"Gina Davis... like the wind... never forgets."

2010 was a really rough year for yours truly so imagine my happiness when I learned that director Thomas Edward Seymour and Jon Gorman were ending the worst Christmas of my life with a Bikini Bloodbath. Finishing off their trilogy of trashy slashers, "Bikini Bloodbath Christmas" takes all of the good things about Christmas, destroys it, and instead trades it for a lot of booze, sexy women, bikinis, and a really evil chef Death who likes to kill people with a claw hammer... and stuff. Why is he killing people still? Who knows? But there are big boobs, sexy women and Debbie Rochon returns yet again. The local store that sells bongs and porn (I'm assuming) is competing with the local deli run by the militant Gina Davis and his co-manager the evil alpha bitch William Dafoe in the Christmas rush, and in a bid to bring down the competition, both sales teams agree to meet up at Chef Death's grave and throwdown. Meanwhile recurring sexy heroine Jenny (the lovely Rachael Robbins) is back to engage in some bikini goodness with her sexy sidekick Sharon (Niki Notarile) occasionally checking in on Miss Johnson who is in a coma and under the care of some psychotic doctors (Lloyd Kaufman is great as Dr. O'Masterblaster).

I mean how else can you explain character Jenny's recollection of her first encounter with Chef Death which fades in to grainy film stock and uses the flashbacks as excuses to show drawn out scenes of naked women for minutes on end, only to speed right through Jenny's actual memories that are rendered irrelevant at the sight of gorgeous women? And did I mention the deadpan scene where Gina Davis unclothes and jumps in to the Jacuzzi completely naked showing off his... man parts for his unsuspecting co-workers canoodling together? Compensating for the lack of Debbie Rochon (who only appears in a few scenes, sadly), Dick Boland is hilarious as Mrs. Johnson, the cross dressing brother of Miss Johnson who looks like a character out of Monty Python with a high pitched warble and floral dresses, holding his own against the sexy women and providing some of the most hilarious one-liners of the flick. Much like every Bikini Bloobath thrown by Jon Gorman and Thomas Edward Seymour, the final film in the series is really just an excuse to feature Chef Death on a slay ride while chasing around scantily clad young women barely escaping his claw hammer he uses with efficiency and creativity. The ultimate climax is surprising and about as twisted as you'd expect from the folks who will look for any excuse to show a naked woman. And for that they're American heroes.

It's sad to see the Bikini Bloodbaths come to a close, but directors Jon Gorman and Thomas Edward Seymour provide a hilarious and nonsensical send off for this entertaining horror comedy series, with Christmas cheer, Ol' Saint Nick, and so many hot women in bikinis.