Ski School (1989)

"Why don't they still make comedy movies like this anymore?"

It's a question I ask myself all the time. Today's comedies suck. Whatever happened to the wacky, witty, R-rated misadventures of yesteryear? That's what I want, dammit! I'm sick of P.G.-13 bullshit and forgettable garbage like MEET THE SPARTANS, PAUL BLART: MALL COP, or anything Adam Sandler is attached to. I want raunchy, rambunctious, no-rules nuttiness supported by multiple layers of beautiful girls, gratuitous nudity, goofball gags, rockin' tunes, colorful clothes, even more colorful characters, festive fun-time blow-outs, explicit sex, ribald antics, rampant buffoonery, and non-stop practical jokes.

I'm talkin' 'bout such madcap motion picture masterpieces as BACHELOR PARTY, THE PARTY ANIMAL, ZAPPED, BIKINI SHOP, FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH, MIRACLE BEACH, HARDBODIES, VIRGIN HIGH, PRIVATE SCHOOL, REVENGE OF THE NERDS, and THE LAST AMERICAN VIRGIN, to name just a handful.

I'm also talkin' 'bout Damien Lee's 1989 production, SKI SCHOOL.

Often overlooked nowadays in favor of the more polite, teen angst-centered comedy-dramas of John Hughes, the motion pictures listed above have largely fallen out of vogue, with only a few of them still retaining some appeal for mainstream audiences. Once upon a time, though, they ruled the roost. Some of these movies were smart, and had a genuinely resonant emotional core that tapped into their audience's memories of adolescence, those formative years defined by first loves n' first lusts. Most of these movies, however, were intentionally dumb, and existed solely to provide some cheap laughs and cheaper titillation. Smart or dumb, resonant or exploitative, one thing was common to all of these films, other than the tropes of their chosen genre. Simply put, they always left you with a sense of elation when you ejected the tape from the V.C.R. If there wasn't a smile on your face (and a woodie in your pantaloons) when one of these bad boys had finished its runtime, then either the movie in question was a total failure, or there was something wrong with you.

It's interesting to note, by the way, that so many of these explosive, in-your-face, pants-down motion pictures were made with conservative asswipe Ronald Reagan in office. Of course, when you look at the kind of art n' entertainment that the 1980's are infamous for contributing to the pop culture lexicon ("feel the wrath of the murderborg!" ...sorry, that's an inside joke), and then you look at the kind of podunk puritanism peddled by the president in that era, it's obvious there's a very strange dichotomy which is not easily understood nor defined. Everyone has different theories on the subject. Some see the indulgent nature of American society in the 1980's as a confrontational reaction to the policies of the Reagan administration. Still others see a symbiosis, drawing cause-and-effect connections between the art and the politics. I'm not going to delve into that discussion here, because there's a time n' a place, and this is neither. But it's certainly worth mentioning, I think.

Regardless, let it be known to all who will listen... that I worship at the salacious satanic altar of the 80's sex comedy. In the name of all that is unholy, by the mark of Baphomet himself, I pledge my undying allegiance to the 80's sex comedy! As Lucifer, Leviathan, and all the other festering, infernal fiends of the stygian abyss below as my witness, I swear there is no genre I adore more, outside of the horror genre, than the 80's sex comedy!!!

Now, dear reader, allow me to regale you with a brief, boring story about Cinnamon Toast Crunch, bagels, and orange juice. Have faith, my child, because all will made clear as crystal in just a moment.

One sleepy Sunday morning in April of 2010, I awoke (presumably from a highly detailed and thoroughly perverted dream involving myself, Amy Yasbeck, ice cubes, and a riding crop), and in astonishingly short order found myself discussing the merits of 80's comedy films and SKI SCHOOL actor Stuart Fratkin's many thespian talents with Low Budget Pictures founder Chris Seaver over breakfast (yes, that is my half-assed attempt at name-dropping). That conversation let loose within my filthy, forsaken soul a serious hankering to revisit this movie once again after not having seen it in many years. I remembered enjoying the movie, and I remembered the plot enough to assure myself that the effects of Alzheimer's disease were still far away from ravaging my youthful brain matter. But it was not a movie I owned on D.V.D. (not because I'd deemed it unworthy, but simply because it's just one of those movies I'd simply yet to get around to adding to my collection), and my conversation with The Seavage had got me itchin' to check it out again. Unfortunately for me, I was broke as hell, to the point where I couldn't even afford to spare the nine dollars and ninety-nine cents it would take for me to finally purchase a copy of SKI SCHOOL to call my own.

Enter Impact On Demand.


I live in a household with Comcast digital cable. I fucking love it. I fucking love it for two fucking lovely reasons. FearNet and Impact On Demand. Both are (as the name implies) "on demand" digital cable services that offer a variety of different movies every month to watch, uninterrupted by commercials, absolutely free, whenever the hell you wanna watch 'em. FearNet, as you may have already guessed, deals mostly in horror movie. Impact, meanwhile, has more diverse offerings. Though Impact ostensibly bills itself as an action movie source, the fact is that, in addition to a heavy focus on lame low budget action movies and classic blaxploitation flicks from the 1970's, Impact always provides a varied mix of pervy women-in-prison pictures, independent dramas (which usually are only a part of the service due to the fact that they feature big stars like Heather Graham engaged in multiple scenes of nudity-baring kinky sex... watch KILLING ME SOFTLY sometime if you wanna see what I'm talkin' 'bout), Charles Band produced sci-fi cheeseballs, and (hallelujah, Beelzebub!) lots n' lots of sexed-up 80's comedy flicks.

I loooove Impact On Demand. And it loves me back. Hence, just as my appetite for half-naked snowbunnies and funny, punny, wisecrackin' cut-ups was reaching a fever pitch, Impact delivered the goods by giving me SKI SCHOOL, "on demand," to watch as many times as needed to satiate my hunger for hyucks.

After watching the damn flick three times in two days, a lightbulb went off above my head, and I realized "Hey, I should write about this movie for Bearded Weirdo Reviews." Thus, here we are now, praising the winter-kissed wacko wonders of this choice li'l slab of infinitely entertaining gonzo comic decadence, a perfect addition to the movie-viewing experience of any nostalgic 1980's fanboy with a hard-on for lecherous laughs n' endlessly quotable one-liners.

SKI SCHOOL is one of those classic "party hearty" comedy films of a sadly bygone era that we often call "the Decade Of Excess". A mixture of ANIMAL HOUSE, THE KARATE KID, and PORKY'S set on the snowy slopes. The film pits a hair gel-dependent gang of wealthy elitist prep school douche bags against a bawdy band of fun-loving party animal misfits. The storyline is admittedly cookiecutter. The self-absorbed jocks want the jovial jokers gone, and they have the support of one of the higher-ups of the titular ski school on their side. With the threat of expulsion from paradise looming in front of them, the film's heroes gotta fight... for their right... to parrrrrtyyyyyy.

Bedecked in brightly colored day-glo snowsuits whilst oglin' barely dressed, big-haired, knocker-wobblin' hussies, the merry, manic members of the lawless squad of smart aleck practical jokers that serve as the picture's troop of heroes bounce from one Spanish Fly-spiked celebration of low brow livin' to the next, drinkin' n' whorin' their way through a steady stream of pranks, parties, and panty-peelin' doffed-top chicas. They're fast-talkin' con artists who can weasel their way into your gal pal's bed before you have the faintest clue as to why your stuff's suddenly sittin' on the front lawn. They rock. They roll. They even start snowball fights. In one scene, they slather pools of "contact cement" all over the slopescapes, causing any skiier unlucky to come in contact with the sticky substance to go flyin' right out of their boots n' off their skis. In another scene, they go as far as tricking two libido-crazed dumbass dudes into almost having sex with one another! How's that for payback?

They came. They partied. They conquered. Why aren't there more heroes like this in today's cinema scene, huh? Somebody wanna tell me where all the good times have gone? Anybody?


Though a minor blip on the greater pop cultural radar, SKI SCHOOL did leave behind a modest legacy. In addition to earning itself a bona fide sequel, SKI SCHOOL also went onto be homaged in an episode of South Park, in the must-see microbudget movie mash-up SKI WOLF, and in just about every last damn ski-centered sex comedy to come out after it. Despite being overshadowed by some of the more widely known flicks in the genre, there's definitely a strong cult following for this movie out there, whose members foster great affection for this silly, chilly, no-frills tale of horny, humorous slackers clashing with joyless, powermad, slicked-back hair yuppies.

Director Damien "ABRAXAS" Lee's uncanny ability to make bikini babes look like a totally natural sight even in the the freezing cold, sub-zero mountainside setting is a big help here, and bushy-browed Dean Cameron (who played "Chainsaw," the Leatherface-lovin' loon in SUMMER SCHOOL, as well as the title character in ROCKULA) n' Stuart Fratkin (of VALET GIRLS and TEEN WOLF TOO notoriety) make it clear to everyone who watches SKI SCHOOL that they are the true stars of this cheerful romp into cult comedy schlocktitude. Unfortunately, Tom Breznahan is mostly a bore as the Average Joe who ends up aligning himself with Cameron and Fratkin after being rejected by the preppy kids. His character is one of the most important ones in the film (and, indeed, he was probably intended to be the main protagonist), as it is he who turns out to be the star athlete in the mountainside ski races that decides the ultimate fate of our heroes (the film climaxes, unsurprisingly, with one last slope race down the most dangerous mountain in the area, with the loser pledging to leave ski school forever n' never come back). It is also he who ends up seducing a super-rich, super-sexy business woman (nothing makes a high class lady's pussy wet like some mad jammin' ski skills, apparently) and convincing her to save our heroes' asses by finally buying the whole damned ski resort and basically giving it to the good guys as a reward for the many orgasms she's received (for the record, the introduction of this story element also added an additional "love triangle" subplot in to the film, involving Breznahan being torn between the high-life hottie who wants him just for his, uh, body... I guess... and the fairhaired sweetheart who really loves him for who he is, ...this seemingly important subplot promptly leads absolutely nowhere... ... ...wha?). In the end, everybody finds a soul mate, everybody's happy, everybody gets laid... except for the villains. Yet, despite his character's crucial contributions to the plot, Tom Breznahan comes off as just plain dull when compared to Dean Cameron and Stuart Fratkin, who positively steal the show with their high levels of energy, their quick-witted, fast-paced dialogue delivery, and their cartoony, over-the-top personalities.

Also of note is Mark Thomas Miller, who plays the villain of the piece with smarmy, slightly subdued, semi-macho relish. He reminds me of What's-His-Name, that guy who played the evil martial arts instructor in KARATE KID. You know the one. The one I'm too lazy to do an internet search for right now. Alongside Miller, raven-haired cutie pie Charlie Spradling (who looks like a living human version of Bettie Boop) plays his girlfriend, who (of course) eventually defects, leaves the douche bag's dick in the dirt, favoring the mischevious charm of the one n' only Stuart Fratkin. She also provides a whoooole lot o' tart, tasty eye-candy throughout the course of the feature. B-movie aficionados will recognize Spradling (and her copious cleavage) from such Full Moon favorites as PUPPETMASTER 2 and BAD CHANNELS (she also had a very small, rather obscure cameo in the 1988 remake of THE BLOB, so keep your peepers peeled the next time you watch that fine flick). Another top-notch helping of T&A comes from the beautiful Ava Fabian, here cast in the role of an affluent sugar mama and convenient plot device used to tie up all the loose story-strings dangling at the end of the film.

When it comes to undressed hotties, make no mistake, SKI SCHOOL does not skimp on the good stuff. The (bra) cup runneth over, as we're gifted with no shortage of titties, tatas, torpedos, honeydews, hooters, knockers, puppies, jugs, cans, milkbags, chesticles, breasticles, love-udders, sweater missiles, mammoth mammaries, boobies, and breasts. There's a bunch of nekkid chicks in the movie, too. Hot-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha!

Whether you're starin' at the snow mounds of some unscrupulous snowboard groupies willin' to whip out their bazooms at a moment's notice just to throw some ski school racin' schmucks off their game, or some jiggly, jacuzzi-dwellin' topless water nymphs boppin' a beachball around in a sinfully snug homina-homina hot tub, there's no mistaking SKI SCHOOL for anything but what it is: crude, politically incorrect sexploitation trash that proudly displays it's dirty, pervy, frat boy mentality right on its sleeve, completely shameless in the way it objectifies women. In other words, SKI SCHOOL is fucking awesome.

Keep in mind, kiddies, that this is not a life-changing experience. This is not some high-falutin art film with some deep sociopolitical significance or anything relevant, poignant, or erudite to say about the human condition. You will glean no great insights about the meaning of life or your place in the universe. And, yet, perhaps, if you pays close enough attention to SKI SCHOOL, there may still be an important lesson learned. A lesson about living life to its fullest, about ignoring the expectations of a largely mechanized n' miserable society, of having a blast with whatever life hands ya, of finding humor in even the darkest corners of existence, of following your bliss, of being yourself, of turning every frown upside down, of making lemonade when life hands you lemons, of finding the silver lining 'round every dark cloud, and a thousand other things that can only be said in the lamest, most cliché ways imaginable, through the kind of weak, hackneyed catchphrases that give the entire bumper sticker industry a reason to be. Or not. Really, who gives a shit?

SKI SCHOOL is a rowdy feel-good funkfest that revels in boobies, booze, belching, hot tub hijinks, corny 80's rock music, garish 80's fashions, upper crust-versus-working class power struggles, historical lessons about the lambada, helium-inflated Shakespeare recititations, no-budget kaiju rampage reenactments, Native American past life evocations, and limbooooo. It relentlessly skewers the pompous windbag culture of the rich n' powerful while reverently proclaiming that the hedonistic, hormonal, carefree lifestyle of the world's slobs, slackers, stoners, tokers, n' jokers as the true path to Shangri-La.


That said, and with my affinity for enthusiastic, hyperbole-laden preaching temporarily set aside, the fact remains that all the pleasures I've thus far described, all these pleasures that SKI SCHOOL can provide, are really standard fare for this particular breed of lusty, lewd, low brow cretin comedy. Still, anyone who digs said kind of comedy filmmaking will surely find SKI SCHOOL to be a primo piece of decadent cinematic excellence. There's not much that sets it apart from similar titles like SNOWBALLING or HOT DOG: THE MOVIE, but that's not a bad thing. It definitely holds its own when placed in such company. The heroes are likeable. The villains are despicable. The jokes are funny. The girls are gorgeous. And the crass, exploitative use of female nudity is plentiful. On top of that, SKI SCHOOL's deceptively simple (almost minimalistic) and ultra-iconic plot keeps things light, fun, n' fancy-free. Meanwhile, the acting here is notably better than in some of SKI SCHOOL's lesser contemporaries. All in all, anyone looking for a good time will find it with this flick. There may be many movies in this particular genre that are more famous and more cherished, but this one manages to be just as memorable and entertaining as the best of 'em

There's a line in the movie that I think sums up SKI SCHOOL, and the genre it came from, perfectly. "To be the best," says Dean Cameron, "you must lose your mind."


That's true. Movies, nowadays, seem unwilling to roll up their sleeves and embrace escapism. They really don't make 'em like this anymore. Contrived pictures like COUGAR CLUB or VAN WILDER are poor substitutions for the authentic, organic, lighthearted teen titty flicks of yesterday. Films like SUPERBAD, THE GIRL NEXT DOOR, and those in the AMERICAN PIE series often have their hearts and hard-ons in the right place, but they all tend to fall far short of the irresistible magnetism that those true classics held.

Casual viewers might not really understand what all the hooplah's about, in regards to just what makes SKI SCHOOL so fantastic, but diehard sex comedy knuckleheads like myself will definitely "get it." The sex comedies of the 80's were absolutely crazy. Completely cuckoo. Constantly throwing curveballs right out of left-field, and showing no restraint or respect whatsoever towards the so-called standards of "good taste" and "classy cinema." The party animals who were their protagonists were themselves representations of the 80's sex comedy philosophy. That philosophy was simple. It was a breezy "carpe diem" philosophy that focused on fun, friends, and good times, with no energy wasted on stress, depression, or pretentiousness. SKI SCHOOL is a prime example of a bygone era of debauchery n' indulgence that some people find revolting, but that I, for one, find inspiring.


SKI SCHOOL was more than willing to lose it's mind. That's why, more than two decades after it was shot in 1989, SKI SCHOOL remains one of the very best.

Until next slime...
Stay sick!
Your pickled pal,
William Weird.



Rating: 4 out of 5 romantic games of Twister
Recommendation: buy it
Best moment: the members of Section 8 pull out all the stops n' use their dirtiest tricks to win the race