Navigation Menu+


Posted on Oct 8, 2015 by | 0 comments

No, Just No: A Review of The Rosebud Beach Hotel


Blegh. Blegh. Bleghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Not even Fran Drescher as a hotel hooker or Cherie Currie from the Runaways could make me like The Rosebud Beach Hotel.

Clifford King, our dear Christopher Lee, owns the Rosebud Beach Hotel. It’s a mid-sized, waterfront tower that is failing. Miserably. Worth 3 million, but insured for 7…so King hires an arsonist – who uses dynamite rather than fire – to blow the hotel to bits.

Ahh! But love is in the air (or at least bumbling sex). King’s daughter, power suit-wearing Tracy, wants her father to adore her bumbling fiancé, Elliot. Elliot is given the chance to turn the Rosebud around to win King’s affections. Or maybe King just wants to kill the kid along with the hotel. Will the hotel turn around before the arsonist is successful? You’ll have to watch this piece of S to find out…

While yer there, you’ll meet a host of kooky characters!

::hurking sounds::

::lifts head from bucket by desk::

Effin’ ew. This movie. OK. Kooky characters. Let’s get to them.

Yuppies! (Don’t worry! They’re nice!)

Singing maids! (Damn it Cherie…you yowled so many songs in this movie…so many. None were good. ::sighs::)

A beefcake in a speedo who lifts weights by the pool! (He’ll seduce you through his thick neck and robotic dancing!)

A nerd from space! (I shit you not.)

A maintenance dude with an end-of-the-world bunker and moonshine in the basement!

Homophobic, male bellhops!

Female bellhop prostitutes! (Not only do they sleep with you for money, they’ll play Spin-The-Grenade for free! Because of course what every sex worker wants at the end of a long day is to get naked with the other staff in a boiler room.)

Old ladies who sell weed!

And ya know what? Lee is in this flick for less than ten minutes. Probably about six minutes. Six minutes of Christopher is not enough to recommend this bullshit. A couple bits at the beginning – where it looks like the film is gonna be rad (if you ignore the HORRID credit tunes [WTF Jay “Star Trek” Chattaway? Why would you make a banal soundtrack for a half-jack-off-worthy sex comedy???]) Christopher Lee starts the movie FENCING! YES! Good sign! But then he disappears for over an hour. We see him 2 times over phone calls and then a wee bit at the end. HMPH.

Redeeming factors of this movie? I guess if I were an ‘80s teen without the internet I would’ve been more for appreciative of the bunker scenes where boobs ran amuck. But I have Tumblr for porn gifs so when I watch a movie ( . )just seeing boobs( . ) doesn’t make it worth while.

The only way you are gonna get through this one is with booze and a pal who can MST3K it with you. Be warned. I had that and still…a week later, my brain is numb.

Rosebud Beach Hotel pic

We here at Where the Long Tail Ends would like to take this moment to say that we tried to talk Patty out of watching this movie … but not very hard. And, well, it was pretty much a token effort on our part. Patty is making us watch the movie as punishment.


Patty Templeton wants to have a long talk with the ghost of Christopher Lee about this movie. Seriously, Sir Lee, what the hell? If you actually liked this movie, tell her over on her Twitter. Or check out her Instagram, just because. She’s probably gonna spend the next three days writing an ‘80s style sex comedy better than The Rosebud Beach Hotel…because it wouldn’t be hard to do.



The Guest Post
I am the terror that flaps in the night, I am the batteries that are not included. I am the wrong number that wakes you at 3am. I am a special news bulletin that interrupts your favorite show. I am the surprise in your cereal box.

I am ... the Guest post.
468 ad

Would you like to say more?