This is “I spit on your Grave” meets “Stripes,” as long as you give Bill Murray some great big mammoth hooters and remove all ability to act from him and all his costars. And add some naked shenanigans. And disembowel the plot, and get the crew drunk before rolling the cameras.

This genre-raping foray under the skirt and into the wide open legs of the United States Military is a penetrating yet ultimately impotent one-eyed glimpse into what’s wrong with our national defense, if by “national defense” I mean “production value of most risqué movies shot in the 80s.” Its come hither skin bare plot can really rev up your engine and cause your flagpole to tent in the post patriotic way. Assuming you are doped up on enough caffeine to give an elephant the shakes.

The deliberate (?) non-acting of the “threes company wannabe” female costars is right up there with Leonard Nemoy’s Strawberry Fields forever performance. I’ll always remember the “toss the groceries 3 inches through the air to your friend” moment. No matter how much therapy I go through.

My favorite moment is when the lead tells the other girls that she was wondering when any actual work got done at her job, all she saw was skirt chasing. And the other two bimboobles cackled.

Oh wait, no, my favorite moment was when I shut the movie off and tried to cut my jugular with a spork from Taco Bell. I owe my pal Dave big-time for stopping me and prying the spork from my hands and talking me down from a bad decision. Anyways that was my favorite moment, the shutting of the movie off. It will be your favorite moment too, no matter when it happens.

The perfect companion-piece to any other movie that needs a movie like this next to it in order to make that movie seem great.