Dad's a Marine.

Kubrick. Scorsese. Spielberg. Wynorski. These are the names that make up the Mount Rushmore of film directors. Oh, what's that? You don't recognize Jim Wynorski? The man has been heroically churning out blockbuster movies for three decades. Munchie Strikes Back, Body Chemistry 4: Full Exposure, The Bare Wench Project 3: Nymphs of Mystery Mountain, and Busty Cops Go Hawaiian might not of been the movies we needed, but they were the films we deserved. He is the director that understands that it isn't story or characters that makes the movie, but the size of the breasts.

Chopping Mall is one of Wynorski's most known works of art because at least a thousand people might have seen it. It came out in '86 during the height of American mall consumerism. Have you been to a mall lately? Yeah, it's the fucking worst. Just let me marinate in my shart-stained underwear and order products from Amazon like a civilized human being. Better than to walk among the plebeians with their Auntie Anne's grease stained Under Armour shirts. Chopping Mall makes the mall experience of the '80s look like the best of times, with women in bikinis and people slinging phrases like, "good times to the max" and "bodacious."

This particular mall has a brand new security system made up of robots controlled by a central hub. In that regard it reminded me a little of Death Spa. Doesn't take long before something goes wrong when a group stays after hours and lightning strikes the security system.

Our main group of peckerheads have one of those classic '80s movie parties where about six people get together and have the time of their lives. At least one of them will dance and force everyone into thinking it's a party, around four others will be fucking, and the other two won't be fucking because they're prudes. There's an equal amount of men and women even though every party I've ever been to had about a 30-to-1 ratio of men to women. The best I ever did at a party was receive the world's most uncomfortable tugjob on my buddy's futon. Even then it wasn't really a party as much as it was a gathering.

During one of these make out sessions comes an all-time great line as the guy (who the fuck knows the names--it's pretty much "white person #1-6") drops the panties with, "You smell like pepperoni." Even more bizarrely, after helpfully clarifying that he likes pepperoni, she answers by stripping while humming a melancholy tune. This really isn't sexy. Well maybe...you know what, yeah it's sexy.

On the other side of the furniture story is the busty blond with the oversized areolae of a true star-in-the-making. When her boyfriend is going down on her (and this is in the close proximity of their friends, because nothing says cunnilingus like allowing your buddies to bask in the Dolby Digital stereo sound of your tongue hungrily lapping at your partners slippery ham hock) she rebukes him by reminding that she doesn't allow that. What the? Broad must possess more funk than George Clinton.

"We're here for like...the Battlestar Galactica auditions"

There's not an excessive amount of nudity or anything, but it got me thinking about the attitudes towards it. There isn't really a whole lot of nudity in movies anymore. Instead it seems to have transferred over to premium channels like HBO. Game of Thrones shows beautiful naked women all the time and creeps on the internet piss and moan about how it doesn't "serve a purpose to the narrative" or some such bullshit. Look, I'm fine with them showing more hanging dong if it gets the killjoys off my back. Wieners make me chuckle so it's not like it's a problem for me. But I refuse to apologize for my enjoyment of breasts. Stop trying to turn the world into Demolition Man.

It's worth mentioning that Dick Miller shows up as a janitor who bitches about his job before getting electrocuted by one of the robots. Because when you work a thankless blue collar job, you waste no moment to complain about it even if it's to an inanimate object.

The best death is probably when the blonde with boobs and a haunted vagina gets her head exploded into chunks of styrofoam. They even re-use it for the main actor credits at the end.

The robots themselves are alright. They shoot lasers and are even worse shots than the entire cast of G.I. Joe. They should have at least looked different. It's hard to get a sense of place when all the robots are the same.

What stuck out to me was just how different the mall of the time was compared to modern malls. The mall in Chopping Mall is filled with mom and pop shops that don't exist whatsoever in the malls of today. Instead, independent stores have been shoved to the few dirt malls that remain. There's a gun shop, a hardware store that has gasoline, and the mall itself is carpeted. I'm not sure if you could actually get guns and gasoline in a mall of this time period or if they're using creative liberty, but I want to believe and that's all that matters.

Eventually everyone but the two nerds are killed, and they go off to fuck I guess?