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"This girl said to me: Why are you closing your eyes? I want to see your eyes. Men always close their eyes when they fuck me! - "  -Paul Verhoeven reminiscing
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Michael Delaney (Jerry OíConnell) and Kyle Brenner (Jake Busey) are the exemplar members of the Tomcats: a group of buddies committed to bachelorhood. Sex is high on the Catsí agenda; settling down isnít. To further fortify their anti-marital mettle the group decide on a wager. Each makes a periodic contribution to an investment fund with the spoils going to the last bachelor standing. Time passes and only Michael and Kyle havenít been caught by the nuptial net. Michael, however, is heavily in debt to a Las Vegas heavy; and in order to avoid losing his life, he desperately needs Kyle to lose his single status. Soon. But this seems unlikely, until Michael discovers a secret weapon: undercover cop Natalie (Shannon Elizabeth).

"This is one of those painful sex comedies that will leave you bemused, uncomfortable, or worse yet appalled, when you're plainly supposed to be laughing. A clear waste of time and money (for viewer and filmmaker alike) the only consolations offered by this unfunny film are a nice sound track and, for the voyeur, tons of very beautiful bodies. In fact, the film manages to badly insult both genders. Women are 'empowered,' they are physically and mentally superior, manipulative, violent and devious - not to mention the willing sex objects of other women as much as men - but, of course, that's only if they're beautiful. On the other hand, men are emasculated weak-minded fools who are both terrible and pathetic as they carry on in a sex crazed stupor. Imagine bachelor number one, ugly and off-putting Kyle's only goal is to score with every babe in the world. He enjoys running over dates with a golf buggy and exciting 'surprises' like 'fucking women while they're vomiting'. On route to reaching his goal Kyle develops testicular cancer and undergoes surgery to remove the afflicted 'nut'. Refusing to part with his beloved organ he sends Michael to retrieve it from the medical waste repository. Michael, lead idiot, fumbles, bungles and watches helplessly (as do we) while the swollen 'ball' is kicked and bounced around the hospital before being mistaken for chocolate and eaten by the very surgeon who treated the ailment. And, as I said, the women don't fair much better: they're either talking about love while murdering people or expelling anything from ping-pong balls to bowling balls out of the more delicate parts of their body. Distasteful and unfunny, Tomcats is bad comedy at its worst."
Michael Shane

"Watching Tomcats is like reading an issue of Hustler with the articles dumbed down and the pictures cleaned up. Iím all in favour of some cheap, smutty humour every now and again as long as itís thick on flesh and hilarity, and low on testicular cancer gags. Tomcats fails on all counts. It is just naughty enough to have earned an R-rating in the US ó thus precluding (legally at least) the prurient teenage market it seems so suited for ó but hardly exploits it. Having breached the kinder classification barrier through the suggestive themes of a couple of scenes, it inexplicably baulks at going the whole horny hog. There are lots of buxom babes but not nearly enough bare boobs; while for the girls, five seconds of Jerry OíConnellís butt is the bait. Many young and yearning females may feel this is good bang for their bucks, except for the less-than-cheeky, less-than-funny and more-than-pathetic attempts at comedy and carnal excitement that need to be endured waiting for it. The funniest moments are the outtakes screened in the closing titles. This has all the saving grace of a would-be-Tomcat making a really good tea-for-two after failing in the bedroom the night before. All the actors prepared well for their roles. They went to the gym. Sure there are plenty of well-toned bodies on display, but for a film with this degree of dramatic substance it is absolutely egregious not to push the nude, lewd, crude levels to the extremities permitted in cinemas not principally catering to the raincoat-wearing brigade. Instead, itís about as raunchy as a swimsuit calendar, with a less compelling narrative."
Brad Green

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CAST: Shannon Elizabeth, Jerry O'Connell, Jake Busey, Horatio Sanz

DIRECTOR: Gregory Poirier

PRODUCER: Paul Kurta, Tony Ludwig, Alan Richie

SCRIPT: Gregory Poirier


EDITOR: Harry Keramidas


MUSIC: David Kitay

RUNNING TIME: 92 minutes



VIDEO DISTRIBUTOR: Columbia Tristar Home Entertainment

VIDEO RELEASE DATE: September 19, 2001

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