(Boon Collins, 1986)
The general cinematic condition this load of hooey illuminates is Viral Gentility, and I doubt I'll find a purer example out there, because this movie is so basic as to be almost elemental. A BC-based stab at the Hick Rape film of the Last House/I Spit On Your Grave/Deliverance tendency, it keeps tripping over the cop in its head: no matter how many times the guy growls about how he's going to beat up/rape/murder the heroine, and no matter how many times she asks politely to be let go, it's never a prelude to anything more than a rock climbing lesson, or instruction on how to prepare a rabbit for cooking. And when we run out of basic survival skills lessons, the guy curls up in a fetal position and starts crying. Then we get a few tourist bureau shots of Kootenay flora and fauna. Then before we know it they're back to growling and whining, defying all logic and motivation. Then, suddenly, GRIZZLY FUCKING ADAMS shows up - the real thing, Dan Haggerty, as the hick's home-schooling dad - but even him leering at this teenage jogger's boobs can't interrupt the Beckett-like rhythm of mind-boggling nothingness. Attempts at a conservation message fit in like Al Gore at a brothel. Imagine Faster Pussycat remade by a frat boy Hal Hartley on downs and you're getting warm.