Note: This is the latest entry in a regular MZ column. The rules are simple: The writer has to go to a Redbox automated DVD rental and select a movie. Then he has to watch it and write something funny and/or profound about the experience. The only stipulation? The movie has to be one he’s never heard of.

I have a confession to make: I’d never used a Redbox before this. The very idea of renting a movie from a machine seemed bizarre to me, if not downright scary. Machines are there to sell you things—candy bars, life insurance, used panties—not rent things to you. The very thought is absurd—I can’t rent a car or a tuxedo from a machine; why should I rent a movie from one? Entering into such a transaction means that eventually, I’ll have to return the item to the box—which, of course, makes me beholden to a machine. Is there any denying that these things are yet another step towards the looming robot dictatorship? One moment I’m pulling 2 Fast 2 Furious out of a little slot; the next, Laurence Fishburne will be handing me a little red pill.

And yet—they have such pretty colors…

Gaze with awe on the majesty of Redbox, friends. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and I had just paid for my groceries. The only thing left to do was take them to my car and drive home—and yet—there was a Redbox, glistening in the fluorescent lights.

It was calling to me.

“Luke…come rent a movie…surrender to your robot overlords…”

Okay, I thought. It’ll be another column for MovieZeal. Maybe Evan will even stop beating me. In any case, the frozen popcorn chicken in my cart was rapidly defrosting, and there were two people lined up behind me already, so I had to make a decision fast.

Hmm…too depressing…not depressing enough…too many action figure tie-ins…

Ah! There it was. Blonde and Blonder, starring Pamela Anderson and Denise Richards as two unemployed bimbos who get mistaken for international assassins. It couldn’t possibly disappoint me, since my expectations were already so low. I mean, heck—there was even questionable spelling (and a rather desperate Farrelly brothers reference) in the title. How could I be let down by this one?

You have no idea…

As 'Striperella' proved, Pam has always looked better as a cartoon.

The film opens the most promising way a film can: as a cartoon. We see animated versions of blondes Dee (Anderson) and Dawn (Richards) doing stupid things like forgetting to run when on an operational treadmill and walking under a low ceiling fan. Then the opening credits are over, though, and we find out the two blondes are even stupider in person.

They meet at a flying lesson. Why? Because someone thought it would be funny to open the film with them crashing a plane. But of course, they didn’t have the budget to actually show them crashing the plane, so the camera looks away, we hear a thunk, and we see them emerging from what could be the wreckage of a plane crash (but is probably just some cardboard painted white). Of course, no one who owned the plane bothers to press charges, and the movie proceeds onward.

Look at us...we can still get an acting job! ...sort of.

We’re then introduced to a cacophony of characters: a mob boss and his minions, a couple of dumb cops, and two lesbian assassins: “The Cat” and her protégé “Kit.” The assassins—who are so good, no one knows what they look like!—have been hired by the mob to whack the owner of a strip club known as the Beaver Patch Lounge. Coincidentally, Dee and Dawn are auditioning there at the same moment—but, of course, they both think it’s a wildlife preserve that’s presenting a musical. Riiiiiiight. Some sample inanity:

Dee: So what’s this show about? What’s the driving force?
Another Auditioner: Um…producing erections.
Dee: It’s a musical about architecture?

Needless to say, The Cat shows up and kills the owner; then Dee and Dawn (not realizing he’s dead) accidentally set fire to his head (in a surprisingly grisly scene—I guess they’re reaching out to the Saw crowd).

So now everyone thinks Dee and Dawn are The Cat and her new partner. The mob sends them to Niagara Falls to “take out” a hotel tycoon (guess what they think that means); the cops follow them there; and the mob decides they can’t trust them and follows them there as well. Strangely, everyone decides to go by car. Go figure.

Um...yeah. This one speaks for itself.

So about this time, I (understandably) check my watch and realize that I’m an hour into a 90-minute high-concept film, and they’re just now, finally, getting to the aforementioned high concept. I can’t help but imagine that this one was originally planned as a nine-hour, DeMille-esque opus, but the budget was slashed repeatedly.

This becomes abundantly clear when we reach the climax, which is a boat chase—a slow boat chase—through a harbor. That’s right, a harbor. The movie is set at freaking Niagara Falls, and the climax takes place in a harbor. On a cloudy day. Actually, the only time we get to see Niagara is in some stock footage they use as an establishing shot. So, one wonders, why even bother to set the action at Niagara? Perhaps this is just a cheap travelogue masquerading as a Pam Anderson comedy? Hmmm.

Nothing screams 'action' like a tiny motorboat and a flare gun.

Anyway, the bad guys get caught, the good guys get off, and everyone lives happily ever after—except for myself, since I just spent money on this tripe. Truth be told, though, this one really isn’t that awful of a film. I mean, it’s bad, but it’s not bad bad. It’s true that it’s insanely low-budget, and that it’s cribbed from nearly every comedy of the last ten years (obviously mentions include Zoolander, The Man Who Knew Too Little, and, of course, Dumb and Dumber), but if you’re in the mood for a comedy that aims unbelievably low—and often still fails to hit its target—this one’s really not a bad choice. Word to the wise: it’s at its funniest when it’s not trying to be funny. (Also, if you’re dying to see a flatulent turtle, this is probably a good option for you.)

Virgil the flatulent turtle, exuding charisma.

There’s of course no comparison, but it reminded me somewhat of the first time I watched Yahoo Serious’s magnum opus Young Einstein. My initial reaction was something along the lines of, “What the crud is this?”—but later on, I realized that Serious is Australian, and that knowledge somehow made the whole thing hilarious. Blonde and Blonder was just stupid and annoying—until I remembered that Pam (and pretty much everyone else involved) is Canadian. Suddenly I was filled with nothing but goodwill toward this movie, and all was right with the world.

And now, if you’ll excuse me…my robot wants a foot rub.