Desiree Cousteau and Candida Royalle are two of the four titular skateboard-using pizza delivery girls, and there are more than a few known commodities of the industry present on the male end of the equation. That’s pretty much all there is to it.
Well, OK, there are a few things not covered in that brief summary…
“Mamma Mia, pizzeria, blow it out’cher ass”
First, a bit about the cast. Pizza owner Holmes, clearly in the prime of his dubious fame here and sporting a huge diamond studded gold finger ring is the proprietor of this establishment, and has an interesting take on conducting an interview that would probably land him in hot water nowadays. The recipient of said interview is the rather Toni Tennillelike Cousteau, who comes complete with Southern-fried Georgia accent to make the parallels even more obvious.
The final member of our center stage troika is a bit more problematic. Despite coming with a lovely head of silky raven tressed hair (which she swings and flings about liberally during her moments onscreen) and possessed of a sloe-eyed smokiness facially, costar Royalle sports more cellulite than you’d expect for a reasonably “name” porn starlet and like the similarly attractive-till-she-opens-her-mouth Fran Drescher is better seen than heard, though less for her tone of voice than the disgusted world-weariness that drips from every syllable and suffuses each line delivery. Like many a distaff scenester encountered back in my single days, she looks pretty damn good, until you talk to her for a few minutes and get to know the lady…then sheesh! Oy, vey indeed…
That’s the main cast. Sure, there are two further “pizza girls” unaddressed in all this, but to be quite honest, the other two ladies in the cast really aren’t worth mentioning.
Essentially, the idea is that Holmes is running an escort service under cover of a pizza joint, with orders of anchovy and extra pepperoni carrying more subtle and coded meaning for their “special deliveries”. John Seeman dresses up in a goofy knitted beret, old lady glasses and silly mustachio as a bumbling detective who tries to bust the girls for selling pizza without a license, which misses the point entirely…
Paul Thomas comes as one part of a hillbilly sandwich of love with Spender Travis. 80’s hardcore star Richard Pacheco, also playing a hick, takes on Royalle, and Cousteau’s “Ann Chovy” talks her john to death before fulfilling his “order”. Cousteau is all smiles and pleasantries to Royalle’s sardonic bite, but both are reasonably attractive (despite certain reservations noted above) and worth seeing in action. Even director Chinn shows up onscreen as Holmes’ partner in the pizza business, complete with a full slate of eye rolling fortune cookie jokes and tongue in cheek asides. And just to show how ballsy he can be, he even goes by “Bob” throughout!
There’s the barest traces of a plot beyond the base setup, with the hillbilly customers from the first half of the picture trying to eliminate the “competition” to their own failing fried chicken venture (namely, Holmes and the ladies themselves – as patrons of their service, shouldn’t these morons know they hardly qualify as competition on the food front?) and the mystery of the “night chicken” who covers the girls with feathers when they pass through dark alleyways, but it’s all insubstantial and in good fun.
In point of fact, this is one of the lightest toned adult films I’ve ever run across, with a feel far more akin to an 80’s teen sex comedy than the grim and seedy tone poems that comprise what we know today as the era of porno chic. If you crossed, say, Hamburger the Movie with hardcore, the result would probably be quite similar to Hot and Saucy Pizza Girls.
The lone extra is an interview with producer Damon Christian, who talks about how John Holmes tried to burn down the pizza parlor where filming took place and Christian’s dealings with mob bonebreakers that resulted therefrom. It’s a sobering reminder of the seedier connections the industry is and has always been founded upon, and more uncomfortable than amusing. Nonetheless, it’s a fascinating conversation, and one that I’m glad was caught on camera for future historians to raise eyebrows to.
While far from a shining example of 70’s grindhouse, Chinn has certainly provided one of the more amusing and lighthearted films of its type, one that could comfortably sit on the shelf next to such films as Tomboy, Coach, Hardbodies and Porky’s but for it’s slightly more salacious and prurient onscreen elements.
Besides, how can you not get a laugh out of a film boasting a key grip going by the name “Sleaze”?