let's face it : since waterworld floated by , the summer movie season has grown * very * stale . 
with no new eye-candy for four weeks straight , we've had to sustain ourselves on the quasi-nutritional value of cheatin' husbands , traveling chocolate salesmen , and computer- generated serial killers . 
sigh . 
thank god for desperado . 
the freewheeling sequel to el mariachi--director robert rodriguez's notorious $7000 debut--stars a cool antonio banderas as the returning guitarist with no name . 
he's a man in black with revenge on his mind , and an arsenal in his case . 
 ( the woman he loved was killed in the first film . ) 
so , he spends the entire story shooting drug dealers ; sort of a tex-mex version of the punisher , if you will . 
there isn't much of an emotional core to desperado . 
rodriguez is having too much fun finding new and innovative ways to pay homage to john woo . 
 ( and sergio leone . . . 
and sam peckinpah . . . ) 
some may wince at the body count--at least 100 graphic killings is a fair estimate--but it's all played for laughs . 
big , broad , hispanic laughs that , for me , recall the physical comedy of blake edwards and his pink panther films . 
sick , slick fun .