A mid 1970s example of the mildly popular hicksploitation (also spelled hixploitation) genre which often centered on hillbilly hotties and poor white trash, the contribution of SIX PACK ANNIE came courtesy of American International Pictures, and now makes its digital debut courtesy of the MGM Limited Edition Collection.

In rural Florida, Annie Bodine (Lindsay Bloom, COVER GIRL MODELS) is young, blonde and busty, and when she’s not busy drinking beers, teasing the men, or skinny-dipping with her handsome wooer (future TV star, Bruce Boxleitner, “Scarecrow and Mrs. King”, “Babylon 5”), she’s waitressing at the local diner owned by her Aunt Tess (Danna Hansen, THE WEREWOLF OF WASHINGTON). The diner happens to be struggling, owing over $5,600 to the bank, and Aunt Tess can’t pay up. Annie takes it upon herself to take her equally busty, brunette co-worker and best friend Mary Lou (Jana Bellan, AMERICAN GRAFFITI) with her and drive in her pick-up truck to the big city of Miami to visit her supposedly wealthy older sister, Flora (Louisa Moritz, DEATH RACE 2000), who is making a living as a call girl out of her tiny apartment. Flora suggests to Annie that she go out and find herself a sugar daddy, which hopefully lands her the dough needed to keep her aunt’s restaurant in business.

As far as redneck exploitation goes, the R-rated SIXPACK ANNIE is too cutesy to be truly exploitive, so unless one likes this type of cinema more light-hearted, they should look towards the similar-themed, sexier and much more excessive features released by Harry Novak and Dave Friedman around the same period (though the film does have an extremely cheap look to it, even by AIP standards). Bloom is very attractive and does a charmingly decent job of playing the naive, dimwitted country girl headed for the big city and even bigger thrills (and a few kinky misadventures), and she even does several nude scenes, though most of them are shot from behind her back, either to keep things mild or because the cameraman had no knack for getting a good shot. With an obligatory bar brawl and a twangy country-western number performed, AIP released this to the drive-in circuit, mostly likely in southern territories, and the filmmakers must have thought of their audience as undemanding, as SIXPACK ANNIE can best be enjoyed if you grab the titular choice of libation, forget about political correctness and put your brain on the shelf for a duration of 90 minutes. There’s even a character named “Long John” (don’t ask) and you can also expect a sight gag involving a banana and a cherry, as well as a promient street sign with the word "erection" in it (use your imagination here). Oh, and there's that rampant product placement for Dr. Pepper!

The film goes for the constant dictation of jokes, the kind exchanged by two characters on screen, and they often come off as something you’d hear on a very naughty edition of “Hee Haw” (the butt of the jokes commonly concern an old man’s dissatisfaction with his wife, or the size of male and female body parts). Alas, these jokes are all terribly unfunny and mind-numbing to say the least. Joe Higgins, who practically made a career out of playing, bumbling overweight sheriffs, is here playing just that, and he's usually seen in some messy slapstick predicament or desperately failing to court irresistible Annie. Ray Danton (who by this time in his career was concentrating on directing low budget horror films such as THE DEATHMASTER and HANNAH QUEEN OF THE VAMPIRES) plays a smooth-talking con artist who beds Annie and then robs her. Best remembered as the Nazi general in ILSA: SHE WOLF OF THE SS, Richard Kennedy plays a loudmouthed drunken Texan who befriends Annie and Marie Lou, that is until his rifle-wielding wife catches wind of it. Other old-timers amongst the cast include Doodles Weaver, Stubby Kaye, Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez, Vince Barnett and “Make Room For Daddy” star Sid Melton as a married man who calls on Moritz’s prostitute character, only to get farted on by her (that'll give you an idea of the film’s wit). Moritz is playing the air-headed blonde for the umpteenth time here, and her curvy figure is mostly on display in a see-through negligee, and that’s a good thing. Uncredited “Little person” actor Billy Barty can be seen briefly in the film’s final scene (Barty and Higgins had starred on the Saturday morning kids’ show “Sigmund and the Sea Monsters” together. Higgins played… a sheriff).