It’s a simple formula, really, one that appeals to our most base urges. That’s why grind-house movies are so successful. Put nudity, sex, violence and an over-the-top plot in a blender, add some nostalgia and a bit of self-aware humor and you have a movie that people like me love to see. I loved the first Machete, and when I came into the second expecting more of that same winning mix, Director Robert Rodriguez didn’t disappoint. Mostly.

The first clue I had that he had moved away from that winning formula was in the production quality of the opening scene. Machete Kills broke with grind-house trope by having clear, modern production quality open scenes, rather than ones artificially aged in post-production like every other movie in the family so far. My worries were quieted somewhat by the ridiculous nature of the first conflict, and I settled back to enjoy the show.

For the most part, Rodriguez delivered. The violence was gory, gratuitous and, at moments, truly silly. Innuendo and foul language abounded, the plot was creative and interesting while still following closely the conventions of the genre, and the writing and acting were that wonderful mix of good and self-aware awful that is only possible in a grind-house flick.

However, one thing was missing. The original Machete was as infamous for it’s abundant nudity as for it’s gore and minimalist plot. Machete Kills, on the other hand, is bereft of any nudity except for a few scenes of a topless Danny Trejo and a five-second sex scene that might have been enjoyable had I dropped acid first. A lot of acid.

So, if you want to watch a movie with racism, violence, ridiculous plot and plenty of gore, sans boobs, then go ahead and spend your ten bucks. If you’re looking for some skin there are plenty of options elsewhere, and perhaps you should save your money for the unrated DVD.