If you're related to a secret agent, do their talents transfer over to you when they're inevitably murdered by an hermaphroditic super villain? Of course they do, what a silly question. Even if the person inheriting the talent is just unassuming teenage gymnast with thick, lustrous hair? Yes. And even more so if that's the case. As most people know, the thick-haired gymnast is one of the last vestiges of truth and justice left in this world. In a society overrun by disco punks and their gender ambiguous overlords, a thick-haired gymnast named Lance Stargrove is about to find out that you're never too young to die in Never Too Young to Die, an action-adventure movie where, according to Stargrove's theme song, no one runs away from the danger zone. Filmed smack-dab in the middle of the 1980s, this unqualified crumpet features enough erratic gunplay, heavy metal hoedowns, customized motorcycles, homemade rocket launchers, scene stealing transsexuals and cackling henchmen to fill a moderately priced gunnysack. Having just watched the The Road Warrior on LaserDisc and the memory of the United States of America destroying the competition at the Games of the XXIII Olympiad still fresh in his mind, filmmaker Gil Bettman and his formidable team of writers and hangers-on (a shady collection of drug dealers and mealymouthed sycophants) have wisely chosen to combine the two, and by doing so, have created an entity so righteous, so mystifying, that it resembles an actual movie at times...
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