Police Academy (1984)
Directed by Hugh Wilson

We pass it sometimes, throw a nervous glance then quickly look away, too frightened to stare for long. Yet strangely it beckons, like the briny Sirens of yore, tantalizing countless sailors, then gleefully sending them to a watery grave. I speak, as you may have guessed, of the Police Academy series. Seven films of such unspeakable terror, few have dared watch them all. Those few fall into three categories: the mad, the drunken, and me – a dedicated servant of the masses. I am the sacrificial lamb, and it is my symbolic blood that must be spilled so that yours, dear reader, need not. I have personally endured, for your entertainment, a screening of all seven Police Academy "films" – and it only took me 9 and a half hours! And I can honestly say that it is my proudest achievement - prouder even than graduating college or giving up fisting.

There are 16 people out there, all guys, who still cling to the belief that Police Academy is a great comedy. Allow me to put that Coors-induced fiction to rest: Police Academy is 100% Grade-A sucky, an epic of suckation, a graduate course in suckology, a first-class one-way no-refunds ticket to Suckyville (Suckyton if you are joining us from loudbasoon.co.uk). It is a stilted Stripes rip-off with Z-grade "actors," cheapo sets, rotten jokes, and complete contempt for its audience. Which is exactly where its sick appeal lies: like that hideous Internet movie where the woman gets hit by the train – the one you got five times from different people – you can cover your face but you cannot look away.

Plot? Steve Guttenberg (as Mahoney) and a bunch of comic misfits join the Police Academy and must train to be officers despite the efforts of a mean instructor. This, of course, is just a set up for a hundred tired gags involving "funny sounds effects guy" Larvell Jones (Michael Winslow), "giant black man" Hightower (Bubba Smith), "crazy gun guy" Tackleberry (David Graf), and "lady with tiny voice who always ends up yelling" Hooks (Marion Ramsey). I can appreciate lazy writing – "Just Shoot Me" is a perfect example – but in this case the complete lack of effort from director to gaffer is astonishing. Even the nudity is lame, for pete's sake.

The only saving grace is the brilliant George Gaynes as Commandant Lassard, who brings a confused dignity to an otherwise thankless role (his famous "someone's under the podium" scene is genuinely hysterical). Everything else is as grating as Steve Guttenberg's asinine cut-rate Bill Murray shtick. Of course this piece of shit did enormous money, so we are subsequently subjected to six sequels. Er, make that I am subjected to them, 'cause sure as fuck no one else is watching them outside of Mexico.

Box Office: $81.2 million

Review by Crimedog