Category: Review

Extraction, USA

  By

★★
“Wears its bleeding-heart on its sleeve.”

Marni (Johnson) is stuck in the titular town, where oil fracking is causing problems from earthquakes to poisoning the local water supply. She’s barely scraping by as a single mom to teenage son Jason (Strange), working as a bartender for sleazy owner Daryl (McMahan), who has a bad case of wandering hands, and hustling customers at pool. Her life is upended when Steph (Carpenter) comes into the bar, kicks Marni’s ass on the pool table, and the two end up making out in the back alley. When Steph becomes aware of Darryl’s safe full of cash, she suggests they liberate it, to finance a new life for them and Jason, far away from Extraction.

Naturally, things do not go quite as planned. The first attempt ends in failure, though  do discover the source of Darryl’s unreported income. [There’s a huge plot-hole here, in that they’re seen in Darryl’s office, and end up having to knock the witness out. They would surely have been identified, yet the matter is never mentioned] Realizing her actions could put Jason at risk, Marni regrets her decision and breaks up temporarily with Steph. They reconnect and decide to make a second attempt, this one a higher-risk plan involving kidnapping Darryl and forcing him to open the safe at gunpoint. [Though weirdly, they buy Airsoft guns mail-order for this. Was Walmart closed?] However, getting the cash might not be the end of the matter.

The main issue is, it feels like the makers are more interested in checking off boxes as a good diversity and liberal ally. Fossil fuels, male chauvinism and big business are bad. LGBTQ, people of colour and feminist activism are good. The plot? Secondary, with the robbery not even being suggested until virtually the half-way point in the film. The problem is, it doesn’t quite have the impact intended on me. For example, Marni complaining about her student loans, resulting from her taking a useless degree, is not the sympathetic flex Yonts believes. Choices have consequences, sweetheart. Did she take on this voluntary debt before or after having Jason? Neither inspire pity here.

I found all these elements and questions a distraction from what should be the meat and potatoes of the plot – or given the film’s sensibilities, the tofu and garden salad of the plot. There’s a whole thread where the drugs are being sold to the oil company to make their employees work harder and… I can’t even. Crop the whole thing down to a tightly-focused heist, and we’d all be much better off. The performances are fine, certainly good enough for that,  though I’m trying to work out the ages here too, since Marni seems way too young to have a son of that age. I initially thought she and Jason were brother and sister.  The problems here are very much on the scripting side, with an ending which is as unsatisfying as the rest of it.

Dir: Mike Yonts
Star: Leanne Johnson, Marlee Carpenter, Chase Strange, Derek McMahan

Sheriff Bride, by Teresa Ives Lilly

  By

Literary rating: ★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆

This short (107 pages) novel is the series opener for the Sheriff Bride series. (The latter has more recently been marketed as the Brides of Waterhole, Texas series, which includes additional books; but my interest is just in the original tetralogy.) Each of the four books (all written by different authors) focus on a different one of the four Hardin sisters, whose unique situation is delineated in the first book, set in the later 1870s. (No date is actually given, but there’s a passing reference to a wanted poster for the notorious outlaw Sam Bass, who was criminally active in 1876-78.) Raised in eastern Texas, the sisters were reared in the Christian faith by their devout mother, who’s been dead for years. But their father was a physically abusive drunk, who resented the fact that they were born female. However, he was a tough customer well versed with firearms, and in his sober moments taught them gun skills, hunting and tracking techniques (he lived off the furs from their hunting, though he drank and gambled away most of the proceeds) and wilderness survival. By the time our story opens, his reputation for prowess at shooting has spread to western Texas.

The book opens with the text of a short letter from one Mark Carlin, banker and leading citizen of Waterhole (population 35 in the town proper, all male), accepting John Hardin’s application for their advertised position of first-ever town sheriff. (That’s actually an authorial error, since in most U.S. states sheriffs are elected to serve entire counties; a peace officer hired to serve just one community would be a town marshal, as opposed to a Federal one.) Having celebrated his good fortune with a drinking binge, however, the inebriated Hardin died in a fall from his horse on the way home. But Carlin had sent him a generous amount of cash for traveling expenses. At the suggestion of eldest sister Sam (Samantha), not having any money or other employment prospects, Jo, Dan and Rob, a.k.a. Josephina, Daniella, and Roberta, agree to join her in traveling across Texas to present themselves as willing to share the position. As readers will be well aware, the wild West of that day wasn’t a hotbed of equal employment opportunity ideals, so the prospects for the success of the ladies’ quest in the face of ingrained male sexism are daunting.

While this is an excellent and very original premise for a novella series, though, the execution of it here has to be called somewhat lackluster. Lilly’s prose style tends to be repetitive, both in language (and in using character’s names over again where a pronoun would serve her better) and in ideas, with points often being restated or reemphasized in the same paragraph when it’s not needed; she also has a tendency to tell when there would be more effective ways of showing. Some attempt was made at editing, but the proofreading was poor (there are only a few typos as such, but I finally deduced that the three or four bracketed repetitions of a sentence in different words were vestiges of textual corrections that weren’t edited out in the final draft!).

There are continuity issues that better editing would have corrected; for instance, in one chapter characters continue talking while waiting after knocking at a door, only to arrive at the door and knock after finishing the conversation; and while the sisters arrived in Waterhole by stagecoach, in a late chapter their arrival was said to be by train. (The town has no train station.) These tended to take me out of the story. In one scene, a doctor extracts a bullet from a gunshot wound in a man’s hand; but the average revolver in that setting fired a .44 bullet, which at the short distance involved there would never have been stopped by the relatively flimsy carpal bones of a human hand. ((On reflection, though, given the position of the combatants, this is actually plausible, given that the bullet had to first pass through the target’s clenched fingers and then through the handle of the gun he was holding. But in my opinion, that still should have been explained.)

On the positive side, the story held my interest, and my wife’s (we’re reading the series together –and yes, we do plan to follow it.) The theme of women proving themselves in a demanding and male-dominated profession that requires some combat skill comes through despite the mediocre execution, and appeals to readers (like myself) who admire action-oriented heroines and appreciate an equalitarian feminist message. (In the latter respect, the ending is also particularly good.) Given that the small-press publisher here is Lovely Christian Romance, it won’t be a surprise that Lilly (and the other series writers) is an evangelical author and that Christian faith plays a role in the tale. (One character is a preacher; Christian ethics underlies the discussions about lethal force, and there’s a serious appreciation of the redemptive power of the gospel.) It also won’t be a surprise that one aspect of the story (which doesn’t swallow up the other aspects!) is a clean romance, but for me that was a plus. (Given that the main storyline takes up a bit over two weeks, it could be faulted as a case of insta-love, but I felt it was plausible under these circumstances and in this era.)

A final point that could be made is that while we’re told that Rob, the youngest sister, is only 14, we aren’t told the older ones’ exact ages, and I’d like to have been. (Their mother was married for 25 years, and died when Rob was fairly young; but we’re not told exactly how young, nor how long it was into the marriage before she bore Sam. Sam could be anywhere from her mid-30s to her very late 20s; I picture her as about 29, and the other two ladies in their mid-to-late 20s.)

Author: Teresa Ives Lilly
Publisher: Lovely Christian Romance Press, available from Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Red Sonja (2025)

  By

★★★
“Better red than dead?”

It has been forty years since the first crack at adapting the Marvel comic series, in turn inspired by Robert E. Howard’s character, Red Sonya of Rogatino. The first stab, released in the wake of Conan, starred Brigitte Nielsen, and was pretty bad. There have been rumblings of further attempts over the years, with a Robert Rodriguez version, starring Rose Macgowan, gaining traction in the late 2000’s. Though given the dreck in which Macgowan has appeared, it’s probably for the best this never came to fruition. Instead, we have a lower profile – read, smaller budget – version from director Bassett, who previously gave us mercenary Megan Fox, and lead Lutz, who was totally awesome taking her Revenge. 

Indeed, that would make a fine “Matilda Lutz overcomes impalement to take vengeance” double-bill with this. The reboot isn’t bad at all. It certainly is miles better than the eighties version, mostly because of Lutz. She may not be quite as muscular or buxom as the comic-book version. But she does bring the required intensity, and that goes a decent way to making this watchable. The supporting cast are good too, although I was less convinced by the plot in general, which is little more than a grab-bag of clichés. We begin with the quick slaughter of Sonja’s village, then see the adult Sonja (Lutz) roaming the forests of Hyrkania. These are under threat from Emperor Dragan (Sheehan) and his psycho sidekick, Annisia (Day). 

After being captured, Sonja is made to fight in gladiatorial combat. She helps the other captives escape, and they fight a guerilla war to prevent Drakan from obtaining the other half of a mystical tome which has great power. Sonja is almost killed by Annisia – the impalement mentioned above! – but brought back by Ashera, the forest goddess, to face her enemies again. Pretty rote fantasy stuff, in other words. It’s the stuff around the edges that is more fun and, beyond the lead actress, is where the improvement is biggest over the Nielsen version. 

I enjoyed the arena scenes, which felt like Spartacus with monsters. Always nice to see Rhona Mitra (Doomsday), though her role is briefer than I’d like. I also liked Day, whose portrayal of Annisia is entertainingly unhinged, like a psycho version of Lady Gaga. Her relationship with Dragan doesn’t play out as I thought, and I would have preferred more places where the script confounded expectations in this way. I was a little disappointed by the fights, which aren’t as hard-hitting as I expected. Although they feel workmanlike and competent, the hits only seem to have much impact on a couple of occasions. Some editing might have helped: 110 minutes feels longer than necessary.

On the other hand, for a reported $17 million budget, it looks decent, and Bulgaria offers some impressive backdrops on which to paint things like the largely-CGI arena. There are occasional moments of self-effacing humour which help, such as the scene where Sonja gets her battle bikini. The end clearly wants a sequel: however, the very token cinema release (one midweek screening in theatres!) suggests the studio had little faith in it. A pity. I’ve definitely seen much worse, and would welcome further tales of Hyrkania. 

Dir: MJ Bassett
Star: Matilda Lutz, Robert Sheehan, Wallis Day, Luca Pasqualino

Country House

  By

★★½
“Well, that’s different.”

The title above is the one by which it appeared on Tubi, though everywhere else calls it Aggression. I guess both are appropriate, in different ways. Neither shed a great deal of light on proceedings here. Then again, you could argue, the film itself is largely deficient in the area of enlightenment too. It takes place in rural France, where Sarah (Nicklin) has been reunited with her sister Marie (Duchez), after twelve years living in England. The circumstances are not happy, the visit being the result of their father’s death. However, there appears to be a dark past surrounding the circumstances of Sarah’s departure. Meanwhile, Marie is mute, although this does not play into the scenario which unfolds. 

After a chunk of small-scale family drama, things kick off with a home invasion staged by Chris (Torriani) and his colleague (Jacquet), who doesn’t seem to have a name. As is common in these cases, one of the criminals is “nice”, while the other is a psycho. And similarly, Marie is timid, and inclined to run, while Sarah is… not. I probably don’t want to say much more, even if simply by not saying more, I am in fact… saying more. Let’s just add, the original title becomes considerably more relevant. That, alone, would be something we’ve seen before in the home invasion genre. However, it’s just the start, because things go entirely off the deep end, in terms of motivation especially.

Just do not expect anything orbiting in the same solar system of a coherent explanation. The only other review of this I could find (in French) called this a giallo. After a first half where I was very hard-pushed to spot the similarity, I can see where that’s coming from. It has the same air of unfiltered madness, as well as suddenly switching to a lurid colour scheme, which makes as much sense as the plot i.e. none at all. One second, a scene will be lit in neon blue; the next shot, taking place in the same location, will be mint green. You could say this is a striking and brave choice of artistic palette. Or you could say it’s pretentious bollocks. I’d not argue either way. 

It is, I suspect, the first Lovecraftian home-invasion movie. Admittedly, after watching it, you may well understand why this is the case. I did like Nicklin, who has been seen here previously in Sister Wrath, and does the best she can in terms of selling the insanity inherent in the script. I could potentially have enjoyed the madness, had it bothered at least to attempt an explanation. Instead, the lack of anything close comes over as lazy film-making. I do appreciate a good swerve, and this undeniably ends up somewhere very different from what I was expecting. However, when you unexpectedly pull the rug out from under your audience, you need also to provide somewhere for them to land.

Dir: Rick Jacquet
Star: Sarah Nicklin, Marie Duchez, Cédric Torriani, Rick Jacquet
a.k.a. Aggression

Choppa City Queens

  By

★½
“Black to very basics.”

We return to the prolific well of Jeff Profitt, last seen here with Keisha Takes the Block. And by prolific, I mean that the IMDb lists now fewer than thirteen upcoming projects he is slated to direct. Fortunately for my backlog, most of these do not appear to be candidates for the site: I do confess some curiosity as to what Trap House Pizza is about. Anyway, both Choppa and Keisha are among the six features he directed in 2023, a number he exceeded last year. Quality is clearly subsidiary to quantity, and this has much the same problems as the last film we covered here, In particular, it’s mostly talk and not enough action.

You have three friends: Leah (Robinson), Jada (Alysha) and Shanice (Collins), all of whom are out of work and seeking a way to make money. Leah literally stumbles across a cache of weapons belonging to gun dealer Ricky (Profitt), and convinces him to let her sell his merch in the ‘hood. For the “Choppas” of the title are Kalashnikov AK-47’s, the weapon of choice for the discerning gang-banger. After the initial sale goes well, Leah gets a bigger order, and has to ask for the guns on credit. Which is a problem, first when Leah’s buyer delays paying for the weapons, and then Shanice’s boyfriend Ray discovers what she’s doing, and decides he wants in on the action. That eventually leads to the only bit of AK action this provides.

The skeleton of a decent movie is present here. It’s possible to read the above synopsis and see how it could be done in an exciting manner. For instance, tensions escalate among the group as the lure of the profits from their new, illegal, but hopefully temporary business, drags them over to the dark side, when the trio only wanted to make a living. It’s a classic tale of the slippery slope into criminality, with the net of the authorities closing inexorably around the participants. Unfortunately, the resources here do not allow for anything like that. It’s telling that the women are buying just three (3) guns at a time, and there are absolutely no cops to be found here at all. 

Meanwhile, the script is strictly of the Point A to Point B variety, without real energy. The trio of lead actresses are okay: there are a few scenes where you can believe they genuinely are friends. The main problem on the performance side is Profitt himself, who is a contender for the world’s least convincing gun-runner. Used cars? Perhaps. Cellphones? Certainly. But now illegal firearms. He’s also very white, and I speak as someone whose skin colour is legally classified as “transparent.” If they’d made him an Aryan Nation type… that would have been a wrinkle. That, however, would be too much like hard work for a film which seems to be uninterested in anything except the path of least resistance to an underwhelming ending.

Dir: Jeff Profitt
Star: Tuckeya Robinson, Jasmine Alysha, Chanel Collins, Jeff Profitt

Robbin

  By

★½
“Robbed of two hours of my life.”

I’ve seen worse films, to be quite clear. Technically, this is perfectly acceptable, with an apparently reasonable budget, put to decent use. But I don’t think I’ve seen one which has been more annoying. It manages to hit that sweep spot of being both incredibly stupid, while also congratulating itself for being very smart in its attempts at social commentary. But the annoyance extends beyond that, to purely instinctive reactions like really bad hairstyles sported by some players. I can’t explain these responses, and am not interested in analyzing or defending them. But they certainly played their part in my steadily increasing irritation at the plot, characters and execution, over an excessively long running-time of one hundred and sixteen minutes.

The heroine is Robbin (Serayah) – and, yes, there are two b’s there. She is a former bank employee, who was falsely accused of stealing two million dollars. With the evidence stacked against her, she took a plea agreement rather than risk a long jail sentence. When she gets out, she decides the best way to respond is… by actually stealing from the bank. Yeah. Let that morality and wisdom sink in. She assembles her old crew from the South Central ‘hood where she grew up, and they begin planning their heist. But one theft is deemed insufficient payback, and another, even bigger robbery is planned. This is despite the increasing attentions of the police, including a detective (Lee), who has known Robbin and her friends since they were kids.

Far and away the worst thing here is the script, also by Stokes. It demonstrates a repeated, startling level of ignorance about how banks work, how computers work [authority check: I spent over a decade in IT with HSBC], and how the police work. For example, in the world of this movie, a detective under announced and active investigation by Internal Affairs for corruption, is not only allowed to keep working on the case concerned, she then gets to lead a raid on the suspects’ base of operations. #NotHowCopsOperate Hell, you could possibly also throw how criminals work onto this heaping pile of no-knowledge, since at one point a robber clearly asks a bank cashier for “No unmarked bills.” Um… shouldn’t that be “No marked bills”? 

Then there’s the whole clunky parallels to Robin Hood, beginning with the heroine’s first name. All her team – fresh off robbing a convenience store, I note – suddenly acquire altruistic reasons for their move into big-ticket crime. Add on a nasty racial strand, where just about everyone black is good, and everyone white is malicious and evil, to an almost tiresome degree, and you will perhaps begin to see from where my irritation stems. “Tubi Originals” are well-known for setting a low bar, to put it kindly. This falls short of reaching that bar.  If it weren’t for the fact that Tubi is a free service, I would seriously be contemplating cancelling my subscription.

Dir: Chris Stokes
Star: Serayah, Erica Pinkett, Jadah Blue, Robinne Lee

Overturned Heart, by A.W. Hart

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆

A. W. Hart, the nominal “author” of the Avenging Angels series of western adventures featuring a twin brother-sister pair of bounty hunters in the post-Civil War West, is actually a house pen name; the books are all really written by different authors. (The writer here, Paul Ebbs, though working in a quintessentially American genre, is an Englishman, but a long-standing Western fan.) Barb and I were introduced to the series because the author of one of the books, Charles Gramlich, is one of my Goodreads friends. Before starting on this one, together we’d read and liked three of the books. But, because it’s a long, episodic series (in which the books after the first one don’t have to be read in order), and I was impatient to see whether one romantic connection and another possible one set up in the first book would really come to fruition, I suggested that we make this concluding volume our next read, and she agreed. (To avoid a spoiler, I won’t say whether or not my hopes on that score were fulfilled.)

No exact dates are given here; but since the first book began in 1865 (the next book would have to have been set in 1866) and judging from the number of intervening adventures, I’d guess the main storyline here to be set no earlier than 1870, making co-protagonists George Washington (“Reno”) and Sara Bass in their early 20s at least. But the book opens with three short Prologue vignettes, the first dated “twelve months ago,” from the viewpoint of an unnamed female pushed off of a bridge to a 40-foot drop into a raging river, followed by two more dated, respectively, three and two “months ago.” None of these give us much information; but we are told that she survived, that her brother Robert Stirling-Hamer was a wealthy Arizona copper-mining magnate who has been murdered, and that his accused killer “Don” was in turn killed by bounty hunters (guess who?), but that Don’s brother in New York has now gotten an anonymous letter claiming that his brother was innocent.

Our main story opens with the Bass twins in a tight situation in West Texas, in danger from a psychotic fugitive who’s already murdered his own parents and set fire to a schoolhouse full of kids. But they’re soon to learn that there are now wanted posters out for them, claiming that their killing of Donald Callan eight months previously was an unauthorized murder. From there, the present narrative is periodically interspersed with flashbacks to “eight months ago,” doling out strategic memories of the earlier events (which will finally come together with the present), and at times some short scenes from an omniscient third-person narrator describing present goings-on in Robert’s town of Dry Mouth; but none of these fully explain what actually happened with Robert’s murder. and may at times deepen the mystery.

Ebbs writes very well, with a gift for apt and fresh (but not overdone) similes and vivid turns of phrase. He also brings the varied Southwestern landscape to well-realized life. The publisher and writers have always tried to make this series Christian-friendly; but where it’s clear that some of the authors had only vague knowledge of Christian beliefs, Ebbs actually does explicitly refer to Christ’s sacrificial death for sin in one place. A unique feature here (at least, compared to the other three installments we read) is that all of the chapter titles have biblical or hymnic cadences, and epigraphs that I’m guessing come from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer. Although the book is very violent (as usual for this series), bad language is scanty and not very rough, and there’s no graphic sexual content and little reference to sex at all. (A Catholic priest is a sympathetic character, Reno’s search for God’s guidance here is a realistically-treated and important theme, and the Bible he inherited from his dad plays a big role.) Reno and Sara’s character portrayals are in keeping with the earlier series books we’ve read (except that Sara’s ruthless streak, at one point, cranks up a notch that even startles Reno).

There are a few nits to pick here, mostly with a number of places where typos in the form of omitted words, negative statements inadvertently expressed as positives or vice versa, etc. change the meaning of sentences; but I could always tell what was meant. A statement early in the book seems to suggest that Sara has lost her faith, but Ebbs subsequently back-peddles from that. Reno’s Bible at one point is described as a “Lutheran Bible,” so while the author knew about the Christian gospel, he obviously wasn’t much versed in church history. (Many U.S. Lutherans in the 19th century were still German-speaking, so would probably still have used Luther’s 16th-century translation; but any that were English-speaking used the King James Version, like all other Anglophone Protestants.) But these are minor quibbles. Overall, I found this an outstanding entry in the series! However, Barb did not; she greatly/exclusively favors linear plots, so she was VERY put off by Ebbs’ non-linear storytelling here (and also disliked the ending, though I didn’t), to the extent of being soured on the rest of the series. So, we’ll be abandoning it, at least for a while.

Author: A.W. Hart
Publisher: Wolfpack Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 12 of 12 in the Avenging Angels series.

 

 

Fight to Live

  By

★★★½
“One tough mother.”

Bec ‘Rowdy’ Rawlings is an Australian mixed martial-artist, who fought in the UFC for a bit, and then became the first woman to win a bare-knuckle boxing world title. This documentary covers her life, from growing up as a teenage tearaway, through motherhood transforming her character, her discovery of mixed martial-arts, a disastrous and highly toxic first marriage, and escaping that to become eventually the Bare Knuckle Fighting Championship federation’s Women’s Featherweight World Champion. Phew. That’s quite a lot to get through in less than eighty minutes. The film does a decent job of covering its bases, through interviews with Bec, and her family and friends, plus no shortage of archive footage of Rawlings, both in and out of the ring.

Everyone in it, but Bec in particular, comes over as down-to-earth: it might be an Aussie thing. Certainly, she makes for an interesting contrast to the more… outspoken American and male MMA fighters, like Conor McGregor. Rawlings seems almost humble, speaking of the respect she has for anyone tough enough to get in the ring. Admittedly, this is likely in contrast to her early years when she was very much on the path to delinquency. Particularly awkward, since her sister was a police officer, who remembers getting a radio call describing a suspect, and knowing immediately that it was her sibling. But parenthood flicked a switch, and Bec realized after having her first son Zake, she needed to take responsibility for her actions.

However, life took a darker turn in her relationship with fellow MMA fighter, Dan Hyatt. For three years, he abused her, both physically and mentally. At one point in the documentary, the interviewer asks for specifics of what he did, and… Well, to be honest, it feels unnecessarily invasive, and almost exploitative: I didn’t feel like the details added anything. Eventually, she was able to escape the situation, and it certainly appears to be a case of “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” While the recovery process took a number of years, she can now look back on the horrors of that period in her life, and as Rawlings says, it happened to her, but does not define who she is, an awesome attitude.

To be honest though, I was more interested in the sporting side of the documentary, which follows Bec as she prepares to defend her title belt in Cancun, Mexico, against Cecilia Flores. She won – hey, it’s on her Wikipedia page – although it’s a little odd that this fight took place back in February 2019, but the film basically ends there, with only a couple of captions covering the five years between then and its release. I had, again, to check Wikipedia for more up-to-date information. After spending time fighting for Bellator, she’s now back fighting for the BKFC, winning her last (at time of writing) bout in January 2025. More power to her, both in the ring and as a mother.

Dir: Tom Haramis
Star: Bec Rawlings, Adrian Rodriguez, Mal Van, Jacqui Rawlings

Get My Gun

  By

★★★½
“Inside out.”

You could accuse this film of pulling a bait-and-switch. The first thirty minutes are set up to point emphatically towards one scenario. It then goes off in a completely different direction for much of the final hour – one very clearly inspired by French New Wave of Horror masterpiece, À l’interieur (Inside). Then it circles back around to kinda-sorta tie up the loose ends. Fortunately, I came into this one with almost no preconceptions. A poster of a nun wielding a shotgun? That’s all it took to add this one to my watch-list, and whatever happened thereafter was alright with me. Providing it delivered on the promise of a heavily-armed Sister of No Mercy on the advertising, at least.

It does, somewhat – though I have reason to doubt her nun authenticity. It’s Amanda (Hoffman), whom we first see forcing a man into the trunk of her car at the point of her boomstick. We then flashback to her working as a hotel maid, alongside BFF Rebecca (Casey). One day, Amanda is raped by a hotel guest (Jousset), whom we recognize as the man getting trunked, and ends up getting pregnant. She decides to keep it – that’s a discussion in itself – but to offer the baby up for adoption, and the selected parent is Dr. Catherine Gilden (Rubino), who initially appears perfect. Key word there: initially. Because Catherine becomes too stalkery for Amanda’s tastes, so she breaks off the arrangement. Which is where the film makes a sharp right.

Admittedly, in the annals of poor decisions, Amanda escaping her stalker by going to a remote cabin owned by Rebecca’s dad, is probably not the best idea. Anyone who has ever seen a horror movie can predict how well this works, i.e. not at all. After a brief homage to The Shining, we’re off to the races, with Catherine and Amanda engaged in a no-holds barred battle over the unborn child. Well, some holds barred: Inside, now that was truly no-holds barred, most memorably when Beatrice Dalle tried to excavate the disputed foetus with scissors from its mother. Nothing so extreme here, although this does have its moments. For good reason does Amanda proclaim, “Why won’t you fucking die?”

I would probably have to admit, this is rather more fun than the early going, though the relationship between Amanda and Rebecca feels genuine. You will probably learn more about the process of cleaning hotel rooms than you wanted to know, and it feels as if the makers suddenly realized the movie they originally set out to make wasn’t very interesting. I feel the second half makes up for it, and it’s clear by the end, when we circle round to her assailant, that Amanda has been changed by her experience. I certainly have questions, not least about Rebecca’s fate, and its definitely not as grindhouse as it thinks it is. But as a nasty slice of female empowerment, I reckon this certainly has its moments.

Dir: Brian Darwas
Star: Kate Hoffman, Rosanne Rubino, Christy Casey, William Jousset

True Story Of A Woman In Jail: Sex Hell

  By

★★
“Bad behind bars.”

With that title, you’ll understand why it’s one I opted not to make part of family movie night. I mean, you can’t argue with the forthrightness, though I’ve little doubt it’s as “true” as most films which make that claim i.e. barely at all. However, the bigger problem is that it’s fairly borderline “pinky violence”, being considerably more interested in the pink than the violence: it’s arguably more of a roman porno. It’s as if someone presented a checklist of cliches from the woman in prison genre, and asked the director to cross them off as rapidly as possible. The resulting speed-run lasts barely more than seventy minutes, especially impressive considering the amount of time devoted to soft-core sex couplings, in various combinations.

We begin with the arrival in prison of serial re-offender Harumi Matsunaga (Seri*), a prostitute now on her fourth stay, and the taciturn Mayumi Hojo (Kozue), sent to jail for… Well, the film holds back on that information for a while, so I’m not going to spoiler it. After the obligatory induction into prison life, her silence quickly brings Mayumi into conflict with her cell’s resident top dog, Sadako Nogawa (Hiromi*), and the pair butt heads. Inevitably, eventual mutual respect develops, especially when a key is found, which could give both women the opportunity to escape the hellish environment of the facility. 

The gap between these and the likes of Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion, made three years earlier, could hardly be greater, and its not in this film’s favour. It begins with Kozue’s fairly bland portrayal of the heroine, in sharp contrast to Meiko Kaji. Given the absence of a strong central character, the film subsequently feels more like porn. Albeit porn with decent production values, though an apparently loose grasp on the concept of “informed consent”. Though I was somewhat impressed with the scene in which a guard has sex with an inmate being held in solitary confinement, through a slot in the cell door. The inventive means by which prisoners are checked for contraband – it involves a custom set of stairs – was also momentarily interesting.

But it’s mostly about sex: what else would you expect, from the director of the similarly-imaginatively titled, White Rose Campus: Then Everybody Gets Raped. And a great deal of sex too – in a variety of configurations, be it straight, gay, or solo. Let’s just say, in hindsight, giving the sexually repressed prisoners clay might have been a questionable decision by whoever is in charge of leisure activities.  You’ll be left to tick off the items from your list. Sleazy prison doctor? Check. Extended sequence in the shower? Check. Revenge on the person responsible for incarceration? Take a guess. It’s all extremely formulaic, and doesn’t do it with enough energy to overcome its limitations, despite a funky soundtrack, courtesy of the Downtown Boogie Woogie Band.

Dir: Kôyû Ohara
Star: Hitomi Kozue, Meika Seri, Maya Hiromi, Rie Ozawa
* – There’s discrepancies between who plays who listed in reviews, and those in the IMDb. I’ve gone with the latter.