★★★½
“Love, knife-wielding Korean mobsteress style…”
Another slightly clunky Korean title (see also Guns & Talks), but the first forty minutes or so of this are about the driest comedy/action you could ever hope to see. In order to fulfill the wish of her terminally-ill sister, mob boss Eu-jin (Shin), or “Mantis” as she is known, decides she to get married. Of course, she needs an especially stupid husband who won’t realise her true occupation, and finds one in Soo-il (Park), a civil servant with a 0% success rate on his blind dates. Their courtship, pre-nuptials and wedding (the last interrupted by a rival gang – a “martial arts demonstration”, as a fast-thinking sidekick calls it) are executed perfectly, largely thanks to Shin and her expressions of shock and horror at the mating game.
After this, the film does lose its way a bit, drifting without much direction or aim; there’s a bit of humour, a bit of action as her rival White Shark tries to muscle in, and a good chunk of pathos due to the deaths of two major characters, none of which really sit well with each other. A more consistent approach would have helped, and there’s no doubting director Cho’s talent for comedy. However, it perks up again with a rousing finale, pitting Mantis against a large number of thugs, which doesn’t end as you’d expect – though, being honest, neither does it perhaps end as you’d want. Still, you can see why it has reportedly been bought by Miramax, as the concept is great, even if the execution goes mildly off the rails.
Dir: Cho Jin-Gyu
Star: Shin Eun Kyung, Park Sang-Myeon, Ahn Jae Mo, Kim In Kwon
“It was a nightmare to shoot: the producer and director were constantly fighting… It was completely unorganised. Alexis [Denisof] was also in it and he and I would go into each other’s trailers and go, “We’ve made a huge mistake, this is the worst thing ever!” It just went terribly, terribly wrong.” So says Hannigan: wouldn’t say it was 
Based on the director’s novel, Girls on Parole, this prime slice of Juvenile Delinquent nonsense remains endlessly fascinating for students of “bad” movies, not least for its schizophrenic approach. It manages to combine moralistic doctrine – most notably from a parole officer who speaks Entirely In Headlines – and exploitation, with the heroines stripping down to their foundation garments (hey, this was 1956, whaddya expect?) about every ten minutes.
After a couple of less-than-perfect entries in the ‘robbery girls’ subgenre, this came as a refreshing blast, with decent characterisation and a storyline that goes past the painfully obvious. Mind you, the moral remains the same – crime doesn’t pay – but at least the road taken to get there is interesting and complex. These women all have their own reasons for wanting to rob banks: getting back at society for perceived injustice, supporting a child, or simply for kicks. Interestingly, you can see both their point of view and society’s, the latter most clearly in a surprisingly sympathetic cop, Strode (John C. McGinley). The results are more a product of tragic circumstance than anything else.
The Cycle Sluts motorcycle gang roar into town, to the consternation and distaste of locals, who drive them off. This decision is regretted soon afterwards, when they come under siege from the walking dead, raised to work in the local mine – a plot stolen from Hammer’s Plague of the Zombies – by the local mortician (Calfa) and his midget assistant. Luckily, the girls are still near, and can assist the townsfolk, including Billy Bob Thornton, who plays a redneck hick, proving it’s possible to be stereotyped 
With the untimely death of Lana Clarkson (legal advisers suggested we not use “murder by a crazed record producer”), this takes on a certain poignant quality, especially when she uses lines like, “I’ll be no man’s slave and no man’s whore.” Clarkson pioneered sword-swinging feminism well before Xena, and while no-one is going to mistake this for high art, it gallops along at a fine pace – lasting barely 70 minutes, it could hardly do otherwise.
Harley (Esposito) comes out of prison, and links up with timorous video store owner Ray (Patrick), who must impersonate her boyfriend in order to collect $2m stashed in a safe-deposit box. The cash was swindled from mob money-shuffler Gin (Meaney) – understandably he’s keen to get it back before his boss notices. You will not be surprised to hear that hardly anyone in this film is quite what they seem.
Benefiting from a slew of decent performances, A&G manages to surpass most of the competition and become a worthy entry in the “gladiatrix” sub-genre. This is perhaps because the cast have been hired either because they can act or because they can fight, while simultaneously not embarrassing themselves in the other department. Pity poor Hiltz, who is in virtually every scene, yet doesn’t even get her name on the cover.
“Get ready to cheer for the bad girls,” goes the tag-line, and despite an exterior fluffier than candy-floss, the message here is actually extremely subversive: crime 
Certainly not the best high-school studio satire ever (Heathers or Election), it’s likely the only one post-Columbine to feature semi-automatics, albeit in watered-down fashion. According to Mena Suvari, “It was really frustrating, because the movie we all signed on to do was very dark and very offensive, and while the finished movie is still that to a degree, it’s completely different.” One can only imagine what the original would have been like.