Grandview, U.S.A.

Director Randal Kleiser follows up Grease, The Blue Lagoon, and Summer Lovers with this lowkey comedy-drama set in a fictional midwestern town populated by a hodgepodge of characters. This first produced screenplay by actor-turned-writer Ken Hixon (Morgan Stewart's Coming Home, Inventing the Abbotts, Welcome to the Rileys) Grandview, U.S.A. isn't an especially compelling picture, but it's not without its charms. First and foremost, the movie features a dynamic and attractive but oddly mismatched cast.

Jamie Lee Curtis stars as demolition derby proprietor Michelle Cody, known as Mike. She, her mom, and her mentally challenged brother are trying to hold onto their family business after the death of Mike's father, who built the local speedway that hosts the derby. Ramon Bieri plays a county commissioner who uses his political connections to make things financially difficult for Mike, as he is eager to buy the speedway and develop it into a country club. His son Tim (C. Thomas Howell), who dreams of getting away from the land-locked town and moving to Florida to become a marine biologist, is starting to rebel against his dad. Though Tim is only just about to graduate from high school, he becomes sexually involved with Mike. This pisses off one of the star demolition derby drivers, Ernie "Slam" Webster (Patrick Swayze), whose own romantic feelings for Mike are just coming into focus now that his slutty wife Candy (Jennifer Jason Leigh) is openly dating the older and wealthier Donny (Troy Donahue). In addition to this series of interconnected love triangles, we get brief appearances by M. Emmet Walsh, Michael Winslow, and John and Joan Cusack.

What's notable and kind of fascinating about the cast of Grandview, U.S.A. is that while the four principals—Curtis, Howell, Swayze, and Leigh—essentially came up during the same era in film, they feel like they come from entirely different cinematic worlds. They are as difficult to group together as the members of The Brat Pack were easy. Even more strange, Hollywood scion Curtis is the only lead cast member who feels like they belong in this ordinary midwestern setting. Curtis, still just breaking out of the scream-queen roles that made her famous, is strikingly gorgeous in ways both butch and feminine playing a tough auto mechanic named Mike. The way she navigates her two unlikely romantic suitors while prioritizing her family business comes across as both credible and sympathetic. Unfortunatly, the central conflicts in this movie feel underdeveloped, and everything comes together in too contrived a manner. The picture is as enjoyably disposable as its jaunty Air Supply title song.