Down Mexico way a deal is being organised in a small town, where two million dollars of drugs money change hands, and the recipient proposes a toast of tequila, but then the Mr Big asks for the whole town in return which he is not prepared to give. That's his loss - of life, that is, when the crooked American businessman and his henchmen open fire and massacre the Mexicans, then escape by helicopter in a hail of bullets. Meanwhile, back on the streets of Hollywood there is a story going around the prostitutes there of a man who is so into sadomasochism that he is willing to beat his hired call girls within an inch of their lives - and sometimes further.
Enter our hero, a tough cop who refuses to play by the rules, one Shotgun Jones! Actually Shotgun's first name is Ian, though the impression you get is that he would rather be called by his nickname even if everyone else in the movie insists on calling him Ian. He probably made up the "Shotgun" part himself, didn't he? Anyway, this modest little action thriller was the product of low budget enterprise PM Entertainment who, noting the moneymaking possibilities of the action flick craze did their best to cash in with a series of works which gathered a small following. Not because they were good, but because they were very bad, quite stupendously so in places, which guaranteed laughs.
This time it's personal, so Ian, sorry, Shotgun is more determined than ever to ensure he gets his man, no, not Hutton, he's happily married, I mean he wants to take down the scum who killed his sister. Which by all that is right in truth, justice and the American way should mean he can kill anyone he suspects until he finds the criminal and then kills him too - it's what civilisation is built upon, after all. However, wouldn't you know it, his chief takes umbrage at this suggestion and threatens to take his badge! Stupid red tape! Which is why the film transforms into a bounty hunter movie two thirds of the way through, since bounty hunters can blow away anyone they damn please and don't have to answer to anyone, the ideal profession for Ian, sorry, Shotgun. With these strains to be sleazy, tough and gritty, naturally it all looks ridiculous because the budget and imagination were not there to back up their big ideas, though what they did have were about a hundred electric guitar solos on the soundtrack, complete with a theme song for the title character as if he was a TV cop. World's worst disco, too.
