Fatal Beauty (1987)

When a deadly (literally) new drug called Fatal Beauty hits the streets of L.A., an undercover narcotics officer (Whoopi Goldberg) makes it her mission to bring down the respectable millionaire (Harris Yulin) behind the drug empire. Typical 80s designer action flick with the standard bad synthesizer score like BEVERLY HILLS COP with Goldberg instead of Eddie Murphy. Eminently watchable but so far fetched that you'll find yourself snickering. It's the kind of film in which a shoot out at a shopping mall with guns blazing, windows shattering, a high body count goes on forever but somehow the police don't arrive until it's all over! The film's drug addled villains (Brad Dourif, Mike Jolly) are so over the top (Jolly munches on glass) that one stops taking them seriously. There's a crack house in L.A. with literally hundreds of junkies waiting in line around the block to get their stash while machine gun guards patrol the area. Yeah, right. In the middle of this nonsense, there's a startling scene that seems to come from a different, better film. Goldberg (the reason to see the movie) has a scene where she talks about her drug addicted adolescence and the death of her daughter that's terrific. Then -poof- it's over and it's back to the exaggerated fireworks. Directed by Tom Holland (FRIGHT NIGHT). With Sam Elliott, Ruben Blades, Jennifer Warren, John P. Ryan, Cheech Marin and James LeGros.