In 1982, the Ladd Company unleashed the dystopian sci-fi classic, Blade Runner. In 1984, they crapped out the first Police Academy movie. Quite the about turn. Overtly racist, sexist, homophobic, fat-shaming characters populated the hugely popular hit, which spawned six shady sequels ranging from amusing to abhorrent. Believe it or not, they still air on UK telly fairly regularly—albeit with the slurs chopped out. Already, I can feel some righty readers squirming in their seats at my politically correct 2024 hindsight—please hear me out, I’m a sort of fan.
The first Police Academy installment, for better or worse, established an overarching premise that would be regurgitated over and over, birthing the classic catchphrases, “Many, many,” “Move it, move it, move it!” and “Don’t move, dirt-bag!” They had a formula and boy did they stick to it—’til the wheels fell off (for me, to a lesser degree) in the juvenile, barrel-scraping oddity, Police Academy 6: City Under Siege, and then altogether in the monstrosity that is the almost unmentionable, Police Academy: Mission to Moscow. The franchise had sequential, annual releases for episodes 1-6, before Mission to Shitshow crept along a little later in ‘94 like an accidental pregnancy, and subsequently feels like the runt of the litter in a litter consisting almost entirely of runts.
The overarching premise is simplicity itself—under a new mayor, in an unnamed city bubbling with crime, a floundering police academy updates its admittance policy to include all willing applicants—cue the misfit new recruits as they blunder their way through, and then overcoming all odds, ultimately emerge on top. Whether the hapless cadets were rescuing kidnapped captains, foiling serial bank robbers, or defeating rioting street punks, the slapstick giggles, sexual innuendo, and cheap humour made the madcap movies staples in childhoods all over the world. But would the franchise survive a “woke” reappraisal? Is the first film in particular merely a tasteless, flesh-flashing, ‘80s screwball sex comedy in the sordid vein of ’81’s Porky’s? Should we disregard the worrying content, and excuse it on account of its “different time” hijinks? Should we stop being so bloody sensitive, and just enjoy it for what it is? Or do we hold the franchise to rights?
For the uninitiated, here’s a quick sequential rundown of the titles in the series:
Police Academy (1984)
Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment (1985)
Police Academy 3: Back in Training (1986)
Police Academy 4: Citizens on Patrol (1987)
Police Academy 5: Assignment Miami Beach (1988)
Police Academy 6: City Under Siege (1989)
Police Academy: Mission to Moscow (1994)
The majority of the Police Academy films have a uniformity (soz), and are structured pretty much identically—beginning with some bullshit lead-in text before a (sort of) cold open—typically a tentative thematic tie-in to the story, opening on a cityscape and buildings at night alongside Robert Folk’s triumphant, earwormy score. Next, a new recruitment process will usually begin—with Mahoney, Tackleberry, or Nick, for example, meet-cuting their 90-minute love interest. Harris (or Mauser), driven by incurable insecurity and unfounded meanness—with their useless sidekick, Proctor, typically in tow, attempt to kick the insubordinate newbies out, or forge a devious plot to discredit them somehow. Cue a training scenario montage, and some sketch-like, vignette-style set pieces, separated by spinning tile transitions.
Next, the unconvinced senior officers will no doubt gripe about the ineptitude of the bumbling cadets up until a final, fifteen-minute-ish action set piece (e.g. the riot in Police Academy, the zoo punk raid in Police Academy 2, the airshow in Police Academy 4, and the Everglades swamp boat chase in Police Academy 5, in which a (relatively) serious, “someone’s in trouble” rescue attempt is miraculously a success—whether it’s Mahoney saving Kim Cattrall, and Hightower, in turn, saving both Mahoney and Harris in the original, or the rookies rescuing Harris and Lassard in Assignment Miami Beach. This act proves the worth of—or reinstates the chump cops as true heroes, and cements their rightful place at the academy with an approximately five-minute awards ceremony thrown in next, in which select dippy rozzers are rewarded with promotions—freeze frame on a joyous moment over the end credits, and they wrap it up! That’s yer lot!
“It’s dirty work, but somebody’s gotta do it!” blasts the soundtrack as Steve Guttenburg’s shit-eating grin greets us once again in Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment. Decked out in a sleeveless cop uniform with ludicrous, unnecessary, cut-off shorts, cruising boobie beach on his trike of misogyny—this, ladies and gents, is Carey Mahoney—a handsome chancer, who typically finds himself the heroic, girl-getting, male lead in the midst of numbskulls. How this puppy-dog creep didn’t find himself at the wrong end of a sexual harassment lawsuit when—whilst impersonating an officer, he ordered a youthful Kim Cattrall to first show, and then describe her thighs, we’ll never know. The archetypal sex pest protagonist pressed his luck again as he casually drank a Bud whilst peeping-Tomming nubile cadets in the showers—gifting the first movie’s target audience some cheap, Porky’s-style T-and-A. Then in ‘85’s Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment, whilst being fitted for new police issue pants, he pervily wrangled balloon animals into his trousers, and pleaded for the female shop assistant to, “Please be gentle.”
Mahoney is arguably the star of the first four films in the Police Academy franchise—although more colourful characters such as the klutzy, effeminate, Cmdt. Lassard, the Rambo-mad, armed to the teeth and ready for war, Tackleberry, human synthesiser and uncanny mimic, Larvell Jones, the intimidatingly androgynous, Callahan, and the lofty, Globetrotteresque, Hightower, eventually surpassed him as standouts as the shenanigans spiralled over a total of seven films (although I am loathe to even mention the tagged-on seventh installment, and disaster of Biblical proportions, Mission to Moscow). These were simpler times, when cadets all had “Johnsons” and were “the right colour.” Wouldn’t fly commercially in 2024—although I’m positive it still raises suspect chuckles in certain households, and it sure as hell flew in the ‘80s—so much so, that the Police Academy movies grossed over $537 million, with a sequel being produced every subsequent year, from ’84-’89, until Mission to Moscow—which I not only consider non-canon, but also a stain on the previous stain that is Police Academy 6: City Under Siege, excreted itself into existence.
At the risk of some invisible, Internet overlord expelling The Rewind Movie Podcast from your algorithm, I am about to explicitly quote Police Academy’s multiple racial slurs and non-pc terms without redactions, as to illustrate the content—so sensitive readers beware. Please take into account, in the Police Academy universe, all Japanese people are experts in martial arts, would be better suited as sushi chefs, and in all likelihood had family members who were somehow involved in Pearl Harbor. “Spade” and “dumb, fat, jigaboo” aren’t terms you’d typically find in a knockabout ’80s comedy, but they’re all shockingly present and politically incorrect here in the first Police Academy installment, alongside a plethora of homophobic digs—most notably in the many, many, Blue Oyster Bar dance sequences, “Mahomo’s”—I mean, Mahoney’s startling, out of the blue, “Sleeping’s for fags” utterance, and enough “bitches” and “queers” for Tackleberry to shake his sleazy saxophone at.
“You men stop that!” cries the sexually puzzling Commandant Lassard before showing gleeful approval at the male-female kiss that follows. Is Lassard gay? I would’ve bet my life on it. However, he is apparently married—although, so was Oscar Wilde, so all bets are off. I’d personally hazard a guess at latent homosexuality based on an ambiguously-gendered podium liaison, and his ongoing trademark, camp ejaculations. In this particular city, every blind alley appears to lead to a gay bar packed with over-familiar, mustached, leather-clad gents who love dancing. When you consider these Blue Oyster Bar scenes were the first example of on screen homosexuality I’d ever witnessed—my introduction to gay characters in movies, it’s perhaps less than ideal—jovial and lighthearted, sure, but at whose expense? It’s another unfortunate sign of the times that I believe should nevertheless continue to play out in reruns and repeats purely for posterity, historical hindsight, and reflection.
Just to momentarily play devil’s advocate—Mahomophobia aside, the first Police Academy movie is somewhat forward-thinking in the sense that it predominantly paints the racists and bigots as fools, and chooses to favour the city’s minorities as equal representatives of the community by depicting them as people considered worthy of donning the blue of the academy, and shouldering the responsibilities of being a cop. This message is unfortunately buried so low under the imbecilic gags that it rarely has opportunity to surface and resound—but it’s in there somewhere.
The Beatles or The Rolling Stones? Coke or Pepsi? Harris or Mauser? I’m a Harris guy, myself. Granted, he’s despicably mean to poor Hooks, bless her, but G.W. Bailey’s “pissants,” and “numbnuts” leap off the screen and explode like little comedy grenades. No one says, “Dickhead” like Bailey. He’s the king of villainy in these movies—and of course in another child of the ’80s fave, Short Circuit, where he faces off against a goodie Guttenburg once again as the loathsome army baddie, Skroeder—dead set on blowing up Johnny 5 and making him… not alive. G.W. was peculiarly passed up for Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment, making way for Art Metrano’s copycat antagonist, Mauser—but when Art called it quits, Bailey returned triumphantly for Police Academy 4: Citizens on Patrol in ’87, which, to this day, remains my go-to entry as it’s the sole Police Academy get-together to host the entire stable of key characters—Mahoney (not Nick), Jones, Harris (not Mauser), Hightower, Hooks, Zed, and Sweetchuck (plus an enchanting, mid-eighties Sharon Stone).
It’s important to note that a racist character exhibiting discriminatory behavior is not the same thing as a film itself being racist or discriminatory. Without meaning to regurgitate Ricky Gervais’s Twitter feed, we must differentiate between the subject of a joke, and the target of a joke, as a responsible, intelligent audience—something these films perhaps unfortunately failed to attract. Having said that, as dumb as this series gets, it’s still marginally smarter than its target viewer. Are these films harmless? To me, yeah. They’re a product of—and still bear a clear resemblance to, the seedier, bygone traditions of the era, and stood on the puny shoulders of the practical joke-filled, raunchy sex comedies of the time, to perv on nude girls in the locker room. I’ve neutralised the hate speech, and enjoy the majority of them as nostalgic, frisky farces in a similar vein to the British Carry On films—they’re neither respected, nor hold any weight or credibility, but are actually pretty benign. I equate the hankering to view any of these movies with the urge to smoke a cigarette, or eat a McDonald’s. It’s the same every time, ultimately bad for you, but nevertheless quite enjoyable. So if you’re craving a motion picture with witty discourse like, “I could show a movie on your butt, fatso!” or an Asian man mispronouncing “cauliflower” and “broccoli” for apparent comic effect, look no further! Amid the many, many, wonderful memories, you’ll no doubt glimpse the diseased, hamburger-heart of ’80s America, and it’s very, very, strange.
PS To aid you on your next Police Academy quest, I have prepared a user-friendly guide to the crap cop shenanigans—Police Academy: Pulling Rank! 🚓. The following brief reviews and ratings score the franchise, and grade each film out of a possible 10, in order of greatness (or reverse shitness).
1. Police Academy 4: Citizens on Patrol (1987)
The familiar yet amusing premise employed here is the introduction of a C.O.P. program—not, “Collection of Pissants,” as Harris would have you believe, but “Citizens on Patrol,” which sees incompetent civilians of all ages and backgrounds merely acting as police officers after superficial, basic “training.” It is perhaps the best incarnation of that core, repetitious, but comedically functional idea in the series. But nostalgia alone isn’t what cements Citizens on Patrol‘s claim to the top-spot. It’s the perfect Police Academy storm, and notably the sole Police Academy entry to feature franchise OGs and stalwarts, Mahoney, Harris, Zed, Sweetchuck, Hooks, Hightower, and a bonus Sharon Stone—which marks Citizens on Patrol as the only movie with everyone present.
There’s a skateboarding David Spade, Harris calls proctor a “dickhead,” and we hear the unforgettable, deep guttural chant of, “Yama-yama-yama-yama-yaaama!” with a hockey-masked Tackleberry jumbling up his horror antagonists, and emerging from a body bag clutching a chain saw. Bobcat Goldthwait—an acquired taste for sure (just ask Jerry Seinfeld), is absolute gold for his run of three films (2, 3, and 4). Zed getting a girlfriend may be his best plot line, with the charming and quite captivating, Corinne Bohrer puzzlingly finding the cacophonous madman attractive. There’s hope for us all! His guitar-accompanied, “Shut up! No, not you. The ducks” bit under the tree, and their poetry slam meet cute are ridiculous and hilarious in equal measure. Callahan (Leslie Easterbrook), and her returning—still unlikely squeeze, Nagata (Brian Tochi) are reunited to fight ninjas alongside auditory sensation fan favourite, Jones—who is at this stage still a valuable novelty, and enjoyably on top form, new recruit, Mrs. Feldman bungles the C.O.P. program single-handedly, and then rescues it from the clutches of failure with the neat, “Book ’em Tack!” window motorcycle crash sequence.
Despite phoning in the entire movie, the top-billed Steve Guttenberg as Mahoney is sycophantically swooned over by thirsty female basketball fans, and rounds out his series stint sipping champagne with Sharon Stone in a Police Academy air balloon before disappearing from the franchise forever—at its arguable peak, no less. I’d call that a win. Citizens on Patrol‘s final Williams County air show set piece is legitimately ace—and surely influenced Blackadder Goes Forth‘s similar ADR’d death-defying Red Baron sequence two years later, showcasing impressive practical aerial stunts, and for me is good enough to top the Police Academy action denouement leaderboard. Mahoney appropriately rides shotgun in the passenger seat, while Stone heroically pilots a biplane—and despite a somewhat unbecoming Rod Stewart hairdo, the 28-year-old (post-Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold, pre-Action Jackson) is off the charts gorgeous—to quote the ever so wise, Nagata, “Wow! What a woman!” Lance Kinsey as Proctor is an MVP here, Marion Ramsey is warmly welcome as the deceptively demure Hooks, George R. Robertson as Chief (later Commissioner) Hurst has a turn, Billie Bird is a fun addition as daredevil pensioner, Mrs Feldman, and Tony Hawk pops up as a (blink and you’ll miss him) sk8er boi.
As per usual, the blundering Harris and Proctor are heroically saved—this time from a watery grave by the recruits from the program they’ve been railing against throughout and refused to endorse, and now must eat humble pie and learn their lessons. As Zed and Sweetchuck plummet towards certain death with only one parachute between them, Goldthwait’s off the cuff, “Break your fall! Hit the kids!” is one of the funniest, and darkest lines in the entire series. If that wasn’t enough, Citizens on Patrol‘s theme song is performed by Michael Winslow & The L.A. Dream Team, featuring various James Brown and Michael Jackson riffs, parodies, and impressions.
7.4/10
2. Police Academy 5: Assignment Miami Beach (1988)
To quote Kevin Smith, in reference to the lost sequel, Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian—“Must we go tropical?” The answer here is an unequivocal yes! Having said that, the guilt of loving Police Academy 5: Assignment Miami Beach weighs heavy on me. I’ve always felt (incorrectly, mind) that Matt McCoy was the thinking man’s Steve Guttenberg, whereas in reality, he’s kind of an unfunny, chucklehead lame-o. Although, that didn’t stop me pretending to be him when I was little—mimicking his hotel lobby hostage scenario exploits by diving behind our sofa with a plastic cap gun. New king of the pranks, Nick’s sexual harassment poolside massage is met with swift retaliation from the elegant and assertive Gretzky-bride, and slicked-back Playboy bunny, Janet Jones—refreshingly subverting the ordinarily successful Mahoney-style chat-up approach by hoying McCoy into a nearby pool. There’s no Sharon Stone, but at least we have a more proactive female character (albeit one we’re encouraged to ogle at first).
Amid the slapstick-o-rama and bozo bad guys, there’s enough “butt-wipes,” “sleaze-balls”, and “dick-weeds” to comfortably tick your Binge Bingo™ “PG-13 cuss” boxes, there’s a badass fanboat chase through the alligator-infested Everglades with an Apocalypse Now aping “Ride of the Valkyries” swamp rescue, Hightower fights an alligator, fat lad Tab Thacker returns as “little” Tommy Conklin, aka “House,” Proctor inevitably ends up nude—delivering my favourite ever Lance Kinsey throwaway line—“He’s thinking,” MasterChef‘s John Torode has a lookalike in the baddie gangster, “Mouse,” and then there’s “Sugar,” whose standout moment is unfortunately just a fart gag in a lift. We have an oily volleyball montage to rival the shirtless Cruise, Slider, and company in Top Gun—featuring the indelible, “How low can you go?” limbo montage, we take a leaf out of the Thaddeus Harris book of pick-up tekkers as he shoots his shot with a chick at a tiki hut bar, there’s a Jaws reference—”Desist the swimming area now, mister!” and enough spit-takes and squirting donuts to addle our brains throughout. Having said that, Proctor frustratedly throwing the unconscious Harris face-first onto a table in a fit of rage is hilarious—and I’ll have words with any man who says otherwise.
One review simply asked, “Where the fuck was Mahoney?” The thinking-man’s Steve Guttenburg, he may not be, but ol’ Matt McCoy as Nick is sufficient, I suppose. Harris has reached such an exasperated level of hatred, resentment, and frustration with the incompetence of literally everyone around him, but he himself continues to cock up every golden chance offered to him to do any better, and improve his station. The strands of Harris desperately trying to become commandant, the honouring of Lassard in Miami, the police training seminar, and then the actual diamond heist and real kidnapping converge and intersect with comedic benefits.
By 5, presumably even the makers were tired of the formulaic structure, and instead opted for the most movie-like plot so far—with entirely new crooks in the shape of the pencil-mustachioed, surely coked-up, diamond thief villain, René Auberjonois, as Tony the wannabe gangster, and his bungling sidekick henchmen. What works here plot-wise, severely drops off in the next installment, City Under Siege. Here, director Allan Myerson injects a more cinematic approach to the photography and staging. A “MAl-arke-ee Diamonds” sign proves the makers know how silly it all is, and evidently chose to embrace it. It’s such a fun ride, and unlike earlier entries, actually feels good-natured. Lassard can’t help but foil the criminals—even when he’s not trying to be a hero cop, he’s inadvertently knocking them down stairs, and dropping golf balls to maim and injure. In fact, the police procedure demonstration conceit makes for some surprisingly humorous interactions between Lassard and his kidnappers. A chipper camaraderie evolves between them; a mutual respect, and a budding friendship.
The conceit of the police procedure demonstration is innovative for the franchise, and allows Cmdt. Lassard to be both the klutz, the willing hostage, and the hero. The score is gentle and emotive—the kettle drum tunes make me happy—it all sounds like a Mario Kart track, and transports me back to a carefree youth. It feels like a slight recalibration before the overtly slapstick, plot-heavy (sorta) City Under Siege, and following Citizens on Patrol—which for me, was the peak of the first four entries with their somewhat honed, comedy vignette style. Although, this one does, quite novelly employ them during the Miami sequences, alongside the police convention, karate demonstrations, riot control drills, etc. which freshens the presentation a touch. They knew what worked, what they wanted to change, and they did it, so for me this one really delivers, and would also be a terrific introduction to the Police Academy franchise.
Assignment Miami Beach is a pleasant, unabashedly feel-good movie, aspiring to nothing more than it achieves. If you have any rugrats in your household, this is an excellent place to begin because when it’s rude, it’s gently rude. Sure, Callahan is reduced to a strutting boob gag, but fortunately for the film, or unfortunately for feminism, it still works. There are no offensive racial slurs or questionable content, and it relies on a heavy dose of kid-friendly slapstick and pratfalls. Everyone has grown into—as opposed to bored of their roles—I’m looking at you, City Under Siege and Mission to Moscow.
7.3/10
3. Police Academy 3: Back in Training (1986)
There are more laugh out loud moments in the first twenty minutes of Back in Training than the entire first two films combined. Police Academy 3 was perhaps my most-rewatched as a kid. “Warm tonight,” is one of the funniest lines in the whole series, and is something I either say, or think about, perhaps once a month, and is for me, Proctor’s second best ever (after Assignment Miami Beach‘s dumbtastic, “He’s thinking”), as is Tack’s, “Slug shredding your vital organs…” presentation. Influential? I’ll let you be the judge of that—in Back in Training, Nagata and Jones invent Rush Hour. Search your feelings, Brett Ratner—you know it to be true. Sadly, Mauser’s here in place of Harris, so that’s an automatic point off from me—but thankfully Proctor returns! There’s a clear, uncomplicated premise, which I quite enjoy—one of two rival police academies must close, only one can remain—with a stuffy committee making the final call. Brain off, and enjoy!
7.1/10
4. Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment (1985)
Alright, where’s Harris? The memorable hair-glue prank on Mauser soothes this travesty slightly, but G.W. Bailey is always missed. Chief Hurst returns—albeit meaner, and Lassard’s brother—played permanently stressed-out by Flight of the Navigator‘s baddie scientist, Howard Hesseman, is a nice new addition. There are some vandal grannies, and the moronic, hare-brained, walking disaster Fackler is back in full force. Mr Sweetchuck’s opening lock-up has a spoofy tone akin to Police Squad!. Notably, Their First Assignment marks the first appearance of franchise staples, Mauser, Proctor, Sweetchuck, and a scene-stealing Bobcat Goldthwait as the batshit “Zed”—who, as my favourite Police Academy character, brings a much-needed injection of chaos, anarchy, and solvent abuse to the proceedings. This entry showcases some of Zed’s best lines and manic scenes, such as crashing a funfair, and looting a supermarket. It contains both Mahoney’s funniest business in terms of the character, and it’s also Guttenberg’s best turn in the series, stretching his comedy legs as the undercover “Jughead,” not to mention all the fairly effective, filthy, Officer Vinnie Schtulman, new partner/two hander shenanigans. A decent final act climax helps Their First Assignment to climb just a smidge above the first Police Academy film in my personal rankings.
As if, “Nice piece! I was referring to your side arm,” and Tackleberry applying gun oil in lieu of cologne wasn’t enough to endear his and Kirkland’s like-minded coupling to us, the fun, spoofy tone is solidified with Eugene and Kathleen‘s disarming post-date strip down. It feels like a scene ripped straight out of The Naked Gun, but credit where it’s due, precedes it by three years. Having said that, as an example of Roger Ebert’s critical skewering—setups to jokes occasionally go absolutely nowhere. Here, Fackler needs to spend a penny, so stops at a petrol station. The blasé attendant informs him he can use the key but he shouldn’t run off anywhere. We see the bathroom key is tied to a big breeze block, and that’s it—that’s the gag. Nothing happens next. The scene just ends.
Police Academy 2 features the cringeworthy clangers, “I want to get my hands on some healthy young men!/There are bars,” “New recruits, not fruits!” and “Your little butt is mine/I’m straight.” There’s sadly some blatant, and occasionally disturbing racism from Mauser—with his throwaway, yet abhorrent “Jones boys” remark after they’re inadvertently blacked-up in a sooty tunnel. It’s a moment the character never really recovers from, and another example of why I prefer Harris as academy instigator. Mauser is also egregiously, and excessively cruel to Hooks, and dangerously antagonistic with Hightower—of course the film at least exposes racist characters for their idiocy, and they invariably get what’s coming to them. Here, the deserving Mauser does, as per, get his comeuppance, and is left with crap Lego man hair when a poly alloy, liquid adhesive glues his hands to his head in a shower, resulting in some hairy-palmed wanker quips.
Also in bad taste are shocking Asian stereotypes galore, including the phonically bungled, L and R mispronunciations of “Not on broccoli! Not on cauliflower!” Pete Lassard angrily exclaiming, “Is all that crap necessary?” because the Japanese chef with the wok is being a, quote, “stupid bastard,” the boiled fish bit, “Oh, you want stir fry?” exchange, and myriad Bruce Lee business. The undercurrent of racism is strong in this one, too, with Jones’s good ol’ boy partner blurting out, “I got you figured for an asshole. I’ve never taken any shit from you people, and I’m not gonna start now.” He also calls Jones, “boy,” which stings.
6.9/10
5. Police Academy (1984)
Spoof scribe, Pat Proft, of Real Genius, The Naked Gun, Hot Shots, and the Scary Movie series fame, penned this one, with Paul Maslansky producing, and Hugh Wilson (writer of Stroker Ace) on debut directing duties—capitalising on prior sex comedy genre efforts like 1983’s Private School, and attempting to read from the same zeitgeisty memo as the trashy, sexploitationer, Revenge of the Nerds—released the same year. The gently titillating tone is in the vein of, but not as harsh as the genre’s key predecessors—it’s more Meatballs, and Porky’s lite than the full fat Coke version.
It’s the original, and set the template for every sequel—barring the one that shall not be named. Like The Fast Show or something, it’s packed with little comedy sketches, cementing the template for the first four installments, at least. It’s firmly in the nostalgic camp now—corny, yet strangely cinematic at times with its visual gag deployment. The Brian De Palma-aping window gag shot, with girls getting changed, Callahan lifting weights, the Lothario’s bedroom harem antics, and finally, repeat sexual offender, Carey Mahoney, up to his old tricks—smugly kicking back with a brewski, and scoping naked ladies—before Harris predictably gets the blame, is I’m sorry to say, perhaps the most sophisticated cinematic composition the series ever achieved. Police Academy‘s clumsy, clunky jump cuts only enhance the crass comedy.
Never has hitting in your wife in the head with a car door, or whacking her in the guts with a suitcase been as funny. Pratfalls ensue as resident klutz, Fackler inadvertently starts a riot (by throwing an apple out of a car window), during which Harris is taken hostage (the first of many, many times). Mahoney pervs? Check. Tackleberry sax? You betcha. Trivia: David Graf, as the trigger-happy Tackleberry was the first character ever to appear in the series—foolishly shooting up his own surprise party. Amid timid, “butt breaths,” “scuzzballs,” “scumballs,” and “cretins,” the unfortunate, wholly distasteful—yet revealing of the era, use of racial slurs such as “spades,” and a 28-year-old Kim Cattrall describing her thighs, would absolutely not pass muster in 2024’s somewhat illuminated Thunderdome.
George Gaynes as Lassard is perhaps the standout performance here with a genuinely peculiar turn. His, “And what a lovely sight it was” in reference to “Johnson’s” everywhere adds another puzzling layer to the conundrum that is Lassard’s sexuality. Also, Mahoney and Hightower get involved in a slightly under-cranked Benny Hill car chase, and “I’m Gonna Be Somebody” by Jack Mack plays us out with a cut from his new record. Take it away!
6.5/10
6. Police Academy 6: City Under Siege (1989)
City Under Siege features the best pool hustle scene since the late, great James Avery as uncle Phil broke out “Lucille” on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and Jones breakin’ out just about every pop culture reference of the era—from Jimi Hendrix to The Terminator. In the movie’s standout moment, Tackleberry apologises to a cat—which is as funny in writing as it is in the film—very. Also, there’s a truck chase set piece to rival (not really) similar sequences in Con Air, A View to a Kill, and Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines. The cartoony, vertigo-inducing window-washing squeegee sequence—featuring Harris’ desperate, pathetic pleading—“I’ll feed the poor!” always makes me laugh, and the Fred Flintstone nod may keep the little ‘uns chuckling, but they’re running out of steam by this sixth entry, and only the dire depths of Mission to Moscow manage to sink and stoop lower—although this installment still feels like a genuine slice of the series, and not a last, lame tag on.
The Wilson Heights Gang storyline results in a little too much plot reliance. Who cares about the plot? This is a Police Academy movie, right? The masked, Scooby-Doo “Pinocchio test” ending is a real stretch, even for a childhood fan of the franchise. If Assignment Miami Beach “jumped the shark,” or more appropriately—“fought the alligator,” then City Under Siege makes it into a handbag in a borderline embarrassing fashion, with desperate slapstick squeezing the final comedic juice from the ailing franchise. The series was undoubtedly neutered when it went PG-13—the language is softened even more so here with “kick some butt” and “stupid twit” both lamely uttered. As a boy it didn’t bother me, but as an adult, it grates. There’s simply not enough sleaze or edginess to offset a plethora of pratfalls. Also, it’s Matt McCoy again, so…
5.4/10
7. Police Academy: Mission to Moscow (1994)
What a mess. I am not ashamed to say I have attempted 1994’s Mission to Moscow twice in my life, and have failed miserably both times. It just ain’t canon. It’s abysmal; a monstrosity. There’s no Hooks or Hightower, either. 1–6, for all their faults, are the real deal, and the much delayed oddity that is the seventh Police Academy installment is merely—as uttered in the superior City Under Siege—an imposter. It should be reprimanded, and brought up on insubordination charges. The bewitching beauty of Claire Forlani (a year before Mallrats) can’t save it. Not even Dracula and Hellboy can—avoid like the ruddy plague. I’m serious.
0.9/10
Police Academy Drinking Game
PPS Prepare your livers! Here’s a bonus Police Academy Binge Bingo™ (in association with the Scarious Artists Trope-Tote™ collection) I made just for you. In no way am I condoning either excessive alcohol consumption, or any of the behaviour exhibited in the following rule inclusions, or corresponding scenes. Please excuse the juvenile nature of this, and at least try to drink your many, many bevoirs responsibly.
- Prank
- PG-13 cuss, e.g. “cretin,” “scuzzball,” “butt-breath,” etc.
- Training montage
- Sexual harassment
- Dismissed—someone is threatened to be, or is actually thrown out of the academy
- Racism (slur or stereotype)
- Sexual act
- Firearm safety breach
- Street punks
- Homophobia—or gay stereotype, e.g. The Blue Oyster Bar
- Harris says, “Move it!”
- Tackleberry weaponry
- Free
- Unintentional maiming
- Angry Hightower—feat of strength
- Lassard says, “Many, many“
- Promotion
- Film reference, e.g. Rambo, Jaws, Dirty Harry, etc.
- Incoherent Zed
- Jones vocal FX
- Proctor is insulted
- Nudity
- Hooks yells
- Attempt to discredit
- Harris or Mauser is a kiss-ass
Scarious Artists 