Ugh. This miserably inept little caper ostensibly aims to reframe the ancient "be careful what you wish for..." plot device for the 1980's, but every aspect of the film is so obtuse and dully executed that "be careful what you watch" ends up being a better moral for the story.
The Faustian narrative revolves around an unlucky computer developer named Bradley Brinkman who creates a program that somehow summons a sultry and cunning demoness, with whom he barters his soul in exchange for a reversal of his fortunes. When he awakens the next morning, he discovers that his Stygian swindler has fulfilled her end of the bargain by making his condo look like an '80s Sharper Image catalog, stocking his closet with a fresh stylish wardrobe, parking a shiny sports car in his driveway, and filling his bank account with enough money for him to afford brunch with Gordon Gekko. But shaping Bradley into a new man isn't merely a metaphorical endeavor, she also gifts him with a whole new identity: the ridiculously-dubbed Hunk Golden, a perfectly-chiseled Jockey ad specimen who makes every woman he encounters lust after him at a glance and is also a karate master (who's powerful enough to stop speeding cars with his bare hands, for good measure). Obviously, this updated persona leads Bradley to adopt some radically amended personal habits, such as bedding a succession of beach bunnies & mermaids and walking around in a Speedo for most of the rest of the movie. Equally obviously, Bradley-slash-Hunk quickly discovers that when you make a deal with the devil, there's always a catch, which leaves him scrambling to find a way out of his pact. While still mostly in a Speedo.
That's a decent set-up, but the failures of Hunk (both the dude and the flick named after him) are so immediate and abundant that watching each phase of the action unfold is an absolute chore. The most obvious and grievous problem is that this movie simply isn't funny, despite its numerous lame attempts to infuse the rote happenings with humor. In addition, since the whole story hinges on the alleged "improvement" of Bradley when he becomes his chiseled revision Hunk, one of the film's other glaring deficiencies is that Bradley is easily way more endearing and likable than his altar ego.
Brinkman's main flaw is being social awkward, but he's otherwise a pretty decent guy and he certainly doesn't come across as the sort of pitiful sad sack who routinely gets squashed by the world. His driving desire for change seems mostly based on a single cruel encounter he has with a quartet of stereotypically superficial '80s yuppies with names like Alexis and Skeet, who mock his clothes and kick sand in his face like high school bullies. It's not abundantly clear why Bradley so desperately wants to be accepted into this particular clique; all four of them are actually much more pathetic mouth-breathers than he is, and they're also such irredeemable d-bags that most viewers will undoubtedly wish this was a horror flick so we'd at least be treated to the sight of each of them being gruesomely murdered. Yet once Hunk takes Bradley's place, we're then tacitly expected to root for someone who's just as vapid and unlikeable as they are, which is a pretty big leap to ask for in a movie that presents every other character who fits that archetype as a villain. Plus, did I mention his name is literally Hunk? It seems worth citing again, since that's by far the most asinine element in a film that reaches Herculean levels of idiocy even without it.
Hunk becomes a celebrity and starts behaving like the very thing he once despised, he's jeered by everyone in town in one scene then the guest of honor at a "Man Of The Year" banquet three minutes later, Satan shows up in various guises such as an obese pirate with Baby Jane curls, while a pre-stardom Brad Pitt shows up as an extra and somehow manages to out-act everyone else in the scene despite merely sitting in the background. Oh, and Bradley learns that life is really hard when you're rich and attractive and live in a condo right by the beach (yep, all of that sounds horrible). That about covers it, so if you're still curious to sit through all 102 minutes of this idiotic mess to find out how everything gets resolved, then you deserve what you get.
It's worth noting that this was reportedly the last film ever launched by Crown International Pictures, a production house with such a storied legacy of low budget B-flick titles that they were practically legendary among fans of movies so awful they're awesome. CID certainly warranted a better send-off than this, but there is at least one appropriate aspect of Hunk serving as their swan song: if any movie has ever been terrible enough to sink an entire company, it's definitely this one. Though Hell is never actually shown on the screen here, slogging through this outing often feels like being there.
The Faustian narrative revolves around an unlucky computer developer named Bradley Brinkman who creates a program that somehow summons a sultry and cunning demoness, with whom he barters his soul in exchange for a reversal of his fortunes. When he awakens the next morning, he discovers that his Stygian swindler has fulfilled her end of the bargain by making his condo look like an '80s Sharper Image catalog, stocking his closet with a fresh stylish wardrobe, parking a shiny sports car in his driveway, and filling his bank account with enough money for him to afford brunch with Gordon Gekko. But shaping Bradley into a new man isn't merely a metaphorical endeavor, she also gifts him with a whole new identity: the ridiculously-dubbed Hunk Golden, a perfectly-chiseled Jockey ad specimen who makes every woman he encounters lust after him at a glance and is also a karate master (who's powerful enough to stop speeding cars with his bare hands, for good measure). Obviously, this updated persona leads Bradley to adopt some radically amended personal habits, such as bedding a succession of beach bunnies & mermaids and walking around in a Speedo for most of the rest of the movie. Equally obviously, Bradley-slash-Hunk quickly discovers that when you make a deal with the devil, there's always a catch, which leaves him scrambling to find a way out of his pact. While still mostly in a Speedo.
That's a decent set-up, but the failures of Hunk (both the dude and the flick named after him) are so immediate and abundant that watching each phase of the action unfold is an absolute chore. The most obvious and grievous problem is that this movie simply isn't funny, despite its numerous lame attempts to infuse the rote happenings with humor. In addition, since the whole story hinges on the alleged "improvement" of Bradley when he becomes his chiseled revision Hunk, one of the film's other glaring deficiencies is that Bradley is easily way more endearing and likable than his altar ego.
Brinkman's main flaw is being social awkward, but he's otherwise a pretty decent guy and he certainly doesn't come across as the sort of pitiful sad sack who routinely gets squashed by the world. His driving desire for change seems mostly based on a single cruel encounter he has with a quartet of stereotypically superficial '80s yuppies with names like Alexis and Skeet, who mock his clothes and kick sand in his face like high school bullies. It's not abundantly clear why Bradley so desperately wants to be accepted into this particular clique; all four of them are actually much more pathetic mouth-breathers than he is, and they're also such irredeemable d-bags that most viewers will undoubtedly wish this was a horror flick so we'd at least be treated to the sight of each of them being gruesomely murdered. Yet once Hunk takes Bradley's place, we're then tacitly expected to root for someone who's just as vapid and unlikeable as they are, which is a pretty big leap to ask for in a movie that presents every other character who fits that archetype as a villain. Plus, did I mention his name is literally Hunk? It seems worth citing again, since that's by far the most asinine element in a film that reaches Herculean levels of idiocy even without it.
Hunk becomes a celebrity and starts behaving like the very thing he once despised, he's jeered by everyone in town in one scene then the guest of honor at a "Man Of The Year" banquet three minutes later, Satan shows up in various guises such as an obese pirate with Baby Jane curls, while a pre-stardom Brad Pitt shows up as an extra and somehow manages to out-act everyone else in the scene despite merely sitting in the background. Oh, and Bradley learns that life is really hard when you're rich and attractive and live in a condo right by the beach (yep, all of that sounds horrible). That about covers it, so if you're still curious to sit through all 102 minutes of this idiotic mess to find out how everything gets resolved, then you deserve what you get.
It's worth noting that this was reportedly the last film ever launched by Crown International Pictures, a production house with such a storied legacy of low budget B-flick titles that they were practically legendary among fans of movies so awful they're awesome. CID certainly warranted a better send-off than this, but there is at least one appropriate aspect of Hunk serving as their swan song: if any movie has ever been terrible enough to sink an entire company, it's definitely this one. Though Hell is never actually shown on the screen here, slogging through this outing often feels like being there.