The opening to this movie is four entire minutes of two boomers, Tony and Jackson, playing chess, and talking about their chess moves, and chess has absolutely nothing to do with anything for the entire rest of the movie, and you're not even treated to the lavish production values of Queen's Gambit, nor do you get to look at Anya Taylor-Joy. It's four literal minutes of two boomers playing chess and snarkily explaining their moves to each other. But then, in the middle of this chess game, their banter takes a truly wild turn with the following line:
"That reminds me, remember that favor you owed me? You know, a while back, you agreed I'd get to pick out your next wife."
.....wait, what? Where did that come from? Is this something old friends typically do for each other? And what the heck in the middle of this chess game reminded you of that incredibly bizarre, highly specific favor your friend owes you that you're cashing in to pick out their next wife for them? Is it because you just moved your queen and it reminded you your friend hasn't yet found their queen? The segue isn't specified as obvious as it seems.
But I digress, Jackson goes out to find Tony the perfect trad-con wife, and in the very next scene Jackson eavesdrops on a conversation in a restaurant overhearing a couple of younger church ladies talking about their love lives with some older church ladies, with the younger women dropping some truly amazing lines like, "I could handle a bit of ugly, if he could dress my in diamonds and furs, but there's nothin' but slim pickins at our church." It's kind of fascinating to me that in the imagination of Donald James Parker, a girl gold digging this openly would be fishing for her sugar daddy at church. But one of the older ladies piques Jackson's interest when, in response, she begins to speak profusely fondly about how much she loved being a submissive housewife before her husband died. No joke there's an entire thirty second monologue where one character brags about how submissive she was, and then one of the younger girls counters, which leads to another truly fascinating bout of dialogue:
"I just couldn't operate like that?"
"Well why not?"
"I want to be in control of my life."
"That's your problem."
"That's MY problem. Are you serious?"
"Hey Stacie listen, as a Christian, you should have submitted your life to God, and then, in obeying God, you would then, submit to your husband. If you don't follow the principal of submission, you can expect to have more difficulty in your marriage than normal."
You know, as I've been binging through Donald James Parker's filmography, I was actually looking forward to this one, because the previous entry into this trilogy, Best Friends Eternally, was pleasant by the standards of this wretched film studio. But yeah that was an anomaly, Parker is back to romanticizing theocratic fascism and framing it as the only route to true happiness, this time imagining all women as if they can be contented exclusively when they are in submission to a man. One of the younger girls pushes back against this, stating that it's not her fault if her marriage fails because she refused to be a doormat wife, to which one of the older ladies responded, "Stacie, there is a big difference between being submissive and being a doormat wife," But then she doesn't even go on to explain what the difference is, like seriously, she just leaves it there as if it's self-explanatory. What? I need to know? What's the difference between a submissive wife and a doormat wife?
This exchange impresses Jackson and he moves in as soon as the younger girls leave to talk to the older ladies and set one of them up with Tony. They agree to all meet up and what ensues is yet another basic, badly written, boring geriatric biblical romance. But then that romance is abruptly halted by another truly amazing twist that is just too bizarre and out of left field that I really wouldn't feel right spoiling it.
Also, David James Parker, yet again, gratuitously subjects you to hysterically contrived extended sequences that exist for absolutely no narrative purpose other than to show you that he is a physically active old man who is in relatively decent shape. But I'm still just so flabbergasted by what this man feels as though he needs to prove to the world with his physique? He is a very average looking 67 year old who can probably run a mile without getting winded. Sure, that's better than the average old person, but he is so proud of the accomplishment that he's near his 70s and can still briskly jog that he has made three entire movies dedicated to showcasing this slightly above average physical feat and writing dozens of characters complementing his slender build. Is it rooted in insecurity or is he legitimately that proud of himself? I don't understand.
