A sun-soaked sleaze-comedy with equal parts cheesecake, shootouts, and unintentionally hilarious dialogue – “Malibu Express” is dumb fun if you know what you’re in for.
By 1985, writer-director Andy Sidaris had fully committed to his unique brand of cinema: glossy, playboy-inspired spy flicks loaded with action, nudity, and tongue-in-cheek dialogue. Malibu Express marked the real kickoff of his signature “Bullets, Bombs, and Babes” series, preceding his better-known Hard Ticket to Hawaii. The film introduces a template that Sidaris would milk for a decade: a musclebound hero, Cold War intrigue (barely), hot women (mostly Playboy Playmates), and a whole lot of beach-front absurdity.
Malibu Express doesn’t quite know if it wants to be a satire or just a softcore James Bond knockoff, but it’s often entertaining in spite of itself. It’s definitely not good in the traditional sense, but if you’re in the mood for vintage 80s cheese with a lot of boobs and a little bang-bang, it delivers.
The Plot (Kind Of): Spies, Playmates, and Computer Espionage
Our hero is Cody Abilene, played by soap opera actor Darby Hinton, a rich-kid playboy turned private investigator who can’t shoot straight but can definitely charm the ladies. Cody lives on a yacht called Malibu Express and drives a red DeLorean. His hobbies include shirtless jogging, clumsy investigations, and seducing nearly every woman who walks into frame.
He’s tasked with investigating a wealthy family, the Chamberlains, for suspected computer-related espionage (because that was the Cold War buzzword of the day). As he snoops around, people start turning up dead, suspicious family members behave even more suspiciously, and Cody manages to bed half the supporting cast while dodging assassins and firing his pistol like a cowboy in a Saturday morning western.
The plot? Paper-thin. The logic? Nonexistent. But the nudity is plentiful, the action frequent, and the tone just tongue-in-cheek enough to keep things from being mean-spirited.
Darby Hinton as Cody Abilene: A Himbo With a Badge
Darby Hinton is charming in a himbo, mustachioed sort of way. His Cody Abilene is one of the worst private investigators in film history—he can’t shoot, he can’t fight, and he mostly stumbles into sex or danger like a golden retriever with a gun holster. And yet… you root for him.
He’s never smug, always game, and clearly in on the joke, which makes him an oddly likable center for this T&A tornado. Hinton isn’t a great actor, but that almost helps. Cody is supposed to be clueless and clumsy, and Hinton plays it exactly as written.
The Real Stars: The Women (And the Wardrobe Malfunctions)
Let’s be honest: the reason Malibu Express found its cult audience isn’t because of its plot. It’s because it features wall-to-wall nudity and gratuitous softcore romps, featuring Playmates like Lynda Wiesmeier, Barbara Edwards, and Lorraine Michaels. The film doesn’t even pretend to be subtle—every third scene ends in a topless reveal, a hot tub seduction, or a slow-motion walk to nowhere.
In fact, Cody’s so-called investigation seems to serve only as an excuse for him to bounce between beds like a sexed-up pinball. Every woman wants him, and not a single relationship carries emotional weight. It’s pure fantasy—and pure fluff.
There’s also a subplot involving a drag queen assassin and a sexually aggressive stepmother, both of which are played for laughs in ways that haven’t aged particularly well, even by B-movie standards.
Action and Direction: Budget James Bond Meets Benny Hill
Andy Sidaris wasn’t trying to reinvent the wheel here. He delivers what his audience came for: bikini-clad babes, car chases, shootouts, and campy one-liners. There’s a boat chase. There’s a helicopter. There’s a shootout in a junkyard. And there’s even a guy who shoots at Cody with a bazooka while he’s naked in bed.
The action scenes are awkward but oddly endearing. Gunfights are staged like community theater performances of Miami Vice. Cars blow up when barely touched. It’s all part of the charm—or all part of the mess, depending on your tolerance.
The editing is rough, the pacing drags in the middle, and the mystery—such as it is—makes Scooby-Doo episodes look like Hitchcock.
What Works (and What Doesn’t)
What Works:
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Darby Hinton’s goofy charm as Cody
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A surprisingly self-aware tone
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Plenty of nudity and lighthearted sleaze
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1980s fashion, tech, and vibes—pure nostalgia kitsch
What Doesn’t:
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Weak plot and incoherent storytelling
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Misfired comedy, especially with outdated stereotypes
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Action scenes are clumsy and cheap
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Every female character exists solely to sleep with the hero
Final Verdict
Malibu Express isn’t good by any traditional metric—but it’s not trying to be. It’s part erotic fantasy, part spy spoof, and part softcore party tape for the late-night VHS crowd. If you’re a fan of low-rent 1980s sexploitation with a wink-and-nod attitude, it’ll give you exactly what you expect—no more, no less.
Just don’t expect a smart mystery, a coherent thriller, or characters with depth. Expect hot tubs, gunfire, saxophone solos, and the cinematic equivalent of a neon beer sign.
Rating: 5.5 out of 10 DeLoreans full of lingerie
So bad it’s… kind of charming, if you’re in the right frame of mind (and maybe mildly buzzed).
