There are so many great scenes in this movie. The drama that is the rise-and-fall of Marcus Templeton is engaging and believable; Andren Scott hits the nail on the head as the archetype of the good-natured, clueless, pathetic sap. Like Homer Simpson and George Costanza, everyone knows a Marcus, and will probably recognize a little bit of Marcus in themselves.
I can honestly say that this movie has some of the best tragically comic, pathetically poignant one-liners of any movie: "Can I at least touch your breasts? Well can I at least see them for a minute? Would you like to go home now?"
It's unfortunate then, that the bad scenes (i.e. the "sexy stripper" scenes) are so prolific and long. You will ask yourself "were hot girls really that lame and homely in the late eighties?" These seemingly never-ending, awkward strip teases will have the whole room uncomfortable, and the god-awful, noodle-doodle electric guitar accompaniment will serve to heighten the pain.
But then again, that's what the remote control is for...