A ★ review of Malibu Express (1985)

Cody Abilene—Darby Hinton’s mustached, aimless himbo in cowboy boots and a DeLorean—stumbles through a “spy” plot that’s basically Scooby-Doo with big guns. Sidaris pretends it’s a techno-thriller about stolen computer secrets, but the narrative exists only to shuttle Abilene from yacht to mansion to hot-tub, each stop punctuated by harmonica solos slick enough to cause an oil spill. The camera’s gaze is so single-minded you can practically hear it panting; every woman is a pliable prop, every bikini a patriotic statement, and any hint of political nuance is drowned beneath Reagan-era pep and cheap champagne. Ideologically the film is a