A League of Their Own

It has been a very quiet year for action heroine films. Here we sit, entering the sixth month of the year, and the only one of the top 100 movies in 2023 at the North American box-office I’ve reviewed here is Everything Everywhere All at Once – and that actually came out in April last year. [I’ll probably add Polite Society to the list shortly] There have been a couple of high-profile streaming titles, such as The Mother, and last week, I discovered the third series of La Reina Del Sur had hit Netflix. It made the top ten shows in the US, which is quite impressive. But it’ll take a few months for me to get through its 60 episodes.

Since there’s nothing new to “feature”, I decided to dip back into the archives and revisit some old reviews, which are in need of updating for one reason or another. I’m starting with League of Their Own. This is partly because it deserves more than the three hundred words it got when originally reviewed 20+ years ago, and partly because of the Amazon reboot into a TV series which came out (as we’ll see, a very apt phrase!) last year. I think my original review (below) was a little harsh, though it may be that I’ve changed since. Baseball is now an intrinsic part of my everyday life, especially during the summer, and I can perhaps appreciate the film that much more.

Indeed, of all the films about baseball – and there have been some classic – I’d rate League behind only The Natural overall. The latter captures the mythic, almost epic quality of the sport, but League simply sparkles in terms of story, characters and dialogue. Virtually everyone involved gives at or near career-best performances, and considering that includes Tom Hanks and Geena Davis, this is a high bar indeed. Hell, even Madonna is good, though it feels more as if the character was written for her, rather than she’s playing a role.

At its heart is the relationship between sisters Dottie (Davis) and Kit (Lori Petty). Kit has been overshadowed by her sister for her whole life, but can at least hold her own in the baseball arena. When the chance comes to play professionally, it’s Dottie the scout wants, but Kit who needs the opportunity, and convinces the scout to take them both. Thereafter, it’s partly about Kit trying to come out from under the shadow of her sister, but also coach Jimmy Dugan (Hanks) rediscovering his love for the game, and all the women proving the game they provide can be every bit as entertaining for spectators as the male version, even if the quality of play is lower]

[Diversion. The distinction between quality and entertainment was made clear to me over the past few months as I’ve followed the battle for Wrexham to get promotion from the fifth to the fourth tier of English football. The talent on view is not of Premier League quality, clearly. But the decisive contest against rivals Notts County – won 3-2 by Wrexham after their keeper saved a penalty in injury time – was the most dramatic and enthralling game of football I’ve ever watched. So, the appeal of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League doesn’t need explaining, even if they’re not the major-leagues]

Writers Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel do a remarkably good job of keeping all the threads of the story moving forward over the course of the season. Events culminate in the final game, where the two sisters face off, on different teams, for the championship. Dottie knows its her last game, since she’s going to quit and start a family. Kit, however, needs the win, for her self-esteem. It is, of course, Sports Cliche 1.0.1, with the title decided on the final play, Kit barreling into Dottie at home-plate. Yet it still works. Even the wraparound segments, which I disliked at the time, now seem to provide a suitable send-off for the characters we have grown to love over the preceding two hours. Hence, its rating is upgraded to a very solid ★★★★.

Then there’s Amazon’s League of Their Own. It’s basically unwatchable. I tried, trust me. But it takes a story that operated at the intersection of sports and humanity, and turns it into one firmly located on the cross-streets of sexuality and race. And that’s fine. It’s certainly a version which could be told about the AAGPBL. But it isn’t what I wanted to see, and it certainly shouldn’t have been called A League of Their Own, because that creates a set of expectations which the film is unable to fulfill, despite forcing in famous lines like “There’s no crying in baseball!” Call it Lesbians in the War Who Occasionally Play Baseball: that’d be a more accurate reflection of the show’s interests.

Even as that, it’s not very good. The CGI used during the baseball games is flat-out terrible: nobody involved here looks even slightly competent (an area where it differs radically from, say, GLOW). It’s also a thoroughly unconvincing rendition of the period. The dialogue, attitudes and even the incidental music, all appear to come from significantly later times, to the point why you wonder why they bothered setting it in in the forties at all. Turning a frothy and subtly empowering comedy-drama into a social commentary sledgehammer, where baseball is an escape from straight society, was never a good decision. At least the largely (and justifiably) forgotten 1993 series, for all its flaws, operated in the same thematic ballpark. Pun not intended.

None of which takes away in the slightest from the joys to be had in the original movie. We watched it last night, and never mind baseball, it has to be one of the best sports movies, regardless of gender, of all time. That’s probably because it’s a rare entity which works both in terms of its sport and without it. You could remove every scene of them playing baseball and you’d still have a thoroughly entertaining, if somewhat confusing, film. About an all-women bus tour of the Midwest, I guess. But the AAGPBL was an entity that certainly needed to be better known too, and A League of Their Own is the telling of their story which it deserves.


★★★½
“A chick flick with balls…and strikes.”

Deserving credit for being about the only female sports film of note, this is actually pretty good, despite a pointless and schmaltzy wraparound, which gives us nothing but some wrinkly baseball, one of Madonna’s least memorable songs and Geena Davis as a thoroughly unconvincing pensioner. Which is a shame; if the bread in the sandwich is stale, the meat is tasty and filling.

From 1943 to 1954, women played professional baseball, a fact largely forgotten until this film. Davis plays the star catcher, taken from the countryside to play ball – giving a new meaning to “farm team”, hohoho – along with her sister (Petty). The movie covers the first season, under a recovering alcoholic coach (Hanks), leading to a face-off between siblings in Game 7 of the championship.

Davis is excellent and entirely convincing (she’d go on to make final trials for the US 2000 Olympic archery team): the interplay between her and Hanks is great, and most of her team-mates are also true personalities. However, Madonna is superfluous, given the similar presence of Rosie O’Donnell [I’m struggling to avoid obvious jokes here]. Jon Lovitz steals the first quarter as an acidic scout, and it’s a shame when he leaves.

If the characters are great, there’s a lack of narrative drive; how can you get excited over playoffs, when it looks like every team qualifies? The friction between Davis and Petty vanishes for much of the movie, in favour of a series of entertaining but – being honest – unimportant diversions. When we reach the finale though, it’s great; ever bit as exciting as any World Series Game 7. And coming from an Arizona Diamondbacks fan, that’s praise indeed.

Dir: Penny Marshall
Star: Geena Davis, Lori Petty, Tom Hanks, Rosie O’Donnell

Family Blood

★½
“Bloody hell.”

Tubi TV has become a goldmine of obscure, weird and, very occasionally, wonderful content for me. When I say “obscure”, I mean their selection includes films like this, about which the IMDb has only the barest of information. No external reviews; no user reviews; not even a rating. The film exists, and at the time of writing, nobody on the Internet has apparently noticed. To be honest, there is  good reason for this: it’s another one of those modern blaxploitation vehicles, which seem to exist mostly for the director’s pals to show up on the soundtrack. Yet even by the low standards of that genre, this is technically inept, with woefully shoddy audio and almost no storyline to speak of.

What there is, occurs ten years after the event – not that you’d know it, if it wasn’t for a caption saying “TEN YEARS EARLIER”.  Det. Lens Smith (Stagger) tells the story of his ultimately unsuccessful efforts to locate a group of women assassins, operating at the time in Las Vegas. There was Dawn (Jaye), Phoenix (Cantrell)… and it then appears the group ran out of proper names, with the others being called Red Death (Douglas), White Tiger and – I kid you not – Yellow Fever. I have to repeat, there’s really no plot here. One of them is married to another LVPD detective. There’s some light bickering among the women. At the end, Det. Smith gets up and walks away, vowing to re-open the case. That’s it. 

Pluses are hard to find. It’s barely an hour long: that’s one. Initially, I thought it might eschew the usual crap rap, with the first murder accompanied by electro-Celtic bagpiping, which was at least different. This didn’t last long, unfortunately. There are occasional moments of droll humour, referencing the Die Hard and Lethal Weapon franchises, and one victim gets an extra bullet, for having had the temerity to touch his assassin’s ass. Though most of the killings are uninteresting or even unintentionally laughable. What assassin worth their salt, would climb to the roof of a building to try and shoot their victim on the sidewalk with a silenced handgun? I know nothing about guns and still realize that’s flat-out stupid.

As is sadly common, the audio is about the worst aspect. The talking head interview of Det. Smith is the only time where this is acceptable. Anything outside is doomed to be muffled; anything inside is equally inevitably afflicted with a tinny echo. I had to keep my finger permanently hovering over the volume button, turning it up whenever anyone was speaking, knowing that at any second the crap rap would burst out and send my ear-drums to Bleeding Town. In the end, I enabled the closed captions instead. Problem solved. The women are reasonably attractive, and keep their clothes on, with nothing more than a bit of cleavage to show for your troubles. It’s all, very definitely, not one of Tubi’s finest moments.

Dir: Bowfinger Stagger
Star: Kevin Stagger, Marlo Jaye, Porsha Cantrell, Ta’Sha Douglas

Paradise Highway

★★½
“Mother trucker.”

I spent much of the first thirty minutes here going “That can’t be Juliette Binoche.” Yet, it is, the French actress looking thoroughly unglamorous and very convincing in her portrayal of white trash trucker Sally. Her brother Dennis (Frank Grillo, whose role isn’t as big as the poster would have you believe) is in prison, and under pressure from even sketchier parties, so Sally has been delivering packages for said parties as she criss-crosses the country. He’s about to get out, so this will be her last run. She’s still shocked to discover the item in this case is a very young girl, Leila (Finley), though she has no alternative but to comply. Except, the hand-off goes violently wrong, the intended recipient ending up dead in the dirt. Sally flees with Leila in tow, and tries to figure out what to do. In pursuit are both the girl’s “owners”, and the authorities, led by federal agent Sterling (Monaghan) and ex-agent Gerick (Freeman), who is now an FBI consultant.

If you’re think this seems like a cross between the various versions of Gloria and The Transporter, you would be about right. Things unfold almost entirely as you’d expect, with the relationship between Sally and Leila going from suspicion and mistrust to affection. Nor will you be surprised to discover that Sally has a background of abuse herself, giving her a particular reason to want to protect the child from the thoroughly unpleasant fate for which she was slated [The film never details it, but a scene where Sterling and Gerick find the traffickers’ den gives you enough of an idea] The problem is we don’t need this justification: wanting to protect a child should be the natural response of any right-minded individual. As a result, this set-up is largely a waste of time, and in a film which runs an overlong 115 minutes, is certainly unnecessary.

Much the same goes for the way the film splits its focus between the two pairs: Sally and Leila, or Sterling and Gerick. I couldn’t help feeling they should have stuck to one or the other, instead of what feels almost like an even split, leaving both somewhat under-served. The agents don’t seem to have a particular purpose, except perhaps to indicate that not all agents of the system are bad – despite the way it has clearly and monumentally failed Leila. It’s always a pleasure to watch Freeman act, and that remains the case here. Indeed, the goes for Binoche: all the performances are good enough for their roles, and make the relationships the best thing about this. They just seem to exist in a vacuum, servicing a plot that doesn’t manage much more than a shadowy antagonist until the very end. There are too many under-developed elements, such as the posse of other women truckers, who exist purely to come to Sally’s aid, as and when necessary. This big-rig looks imposing, yet is running empty in terms of any emotional payload.

Dir: Anna Gutto
Star: Juliette Binoche, Hala Finley, Morgan Freeman, Cameron Monaghan

Sever

★★
“When you order À l’interieur on Wish…”

The French film À l’interieur (a.k.a. Inside) is one of the most ferocious and intense of all action-heroine films. It’s the story of a pregnant woman who has to defend herself and her unborn child from an absolute psycho who turns up on the doorstep of her remote house one night. This film, more or less, has the same plot. It is, however, a pale imitation in just about every single way. Where À l’interieur was spare and taut, this is bloated and meandering. When it had nothing but excellent performances, the ones here are largely poor or worse. And while the French movie delivered on its hellish premise, this possesses almost no impact at all.

The targets here are Cord (Caillouet) and Mindy (Kavchak), an apparently happily married couple, who are having a weekend getaway at their family retreat, deep in the Rocky Mountains. Their vacation is interrupted by the arrival on their doorstep of a stranger, a woman who claims to need help. With the cabin having no phone, and ‐ this is my thoroughly unsurprised face – being out of cellphone range, Cord invites her to stay the night, without even consulting his wife. This is the first of many truly poor decisions the couple will make. For the woman is Martha (Cruz), who recently staged a brutal escape from the psychiatric facility in which she was incarcerated, and is now intent on making her unwitting hosts, Cord in particular, pay for the sins of the past.

Which is part of the issue: the resulting narrative is so convoluted it becomes ridiculous. Though especially in the final act, I actually found myself thoroughly amused by its excesses. The problem is, I think I was supposed to take it seriously. Yeah, that’s gonna be a “No” from me, dawg. The other big flaw are the performances of Kavchak and, especially, Caillouet. The former is flat and thoroughly unconvincing as a woman in peril of her life. She is still Oscar-worthy compared to the oak wardrobe which is her on-screen husband, delivering lines with all the energy of an airport departure announcement. A cord of wood might have made a better Cord.

The only thing which kept this watchable was Cruz (credited as Batya Haynes). Her bible-spouting religious fruitcake was a genuinely scary creature, truly devoted to her philosophy of life. If it may not be one with which you can agree, it is possible to see where she’s coming from. You certainly have to admire the commitment to her chosen purpose, even though such fanaticism is terrifying at the same time. It’s just a shame it’s not a performance in the service of a better movie. I’ve just realized I’m not even sure if Mindy actually was pregnant. If so, it never played much part in proceedings. I suspect I may simply have spliced that plot-point in from another, far superior one. No prizes for guessing where.

Dir: Matthew Ryan Anderson
Star: Batya Cruz, Maia Kavchak, Garret Caillouet, Phyllis Spielman

Black Site (2022)

★★★
“Better Red(box) than Net(flix).”

This has a fair amount in common with the disaster which was Interceptor. Both films were produced for streaming companies, and are about a sole woman in a remote military location, that is attacked by a terrorist or groups of terrorists. She then has to survive, take on the threat, deal with treachery on the inside, and handle a ticking clock scenario. It is fairly basic storytelling, occasionally dumb, and there’s nothing of note in either, we haven’t seen a hundred times before, with male or female leads. However, this is significantly more watchable, perhaps because it doesn’t push the envelope. One problem with Interceptor was its #MeToo messaging. There’s no such soap-box concerns here, and Black Site is better for it.

The heroine is Abby Trent (Monaghan), a CIA analyst whose husband and daughter were blown up in a terrorist attack on an “Istanbul” hospital. I use quotes, because when the camera zooms out to a satellite view, Istanbul has apparently relocated, from Turkey to somewhere down the Red Sea in Saudi Arabia. It’s not the last time the film’s geography is shaky. Anyway, Abby devotes her life to tracking down “Hatchet”, the man responsible, and is currently working at a secret interrogation facility in the Jordanian desert. Two things about it made me go “Hmmm.” Firstly, it doubles as a data storage location: that’s a no from me in IT. Second, a Mossad (Israeli intelligence) agent is wandering about. Seems unlikely.

Anyway, #2. Hatchet (Clarke) is captured and sent to the facility, only to escape almost immediately. A lockdown is put in place, but comms get cut off, and the rules – at least in this movie – are that after an hour, they’ll be deemed compromised, and a drone strike will wipe everyone out. Abby has to figure out Hatchet’s agenda, deal with insubordination and flat-out double-agents on her side, and discover the truth about the hospital bombing before the clock runs out. Despite the various idiocies noted above, it is all kept moving forward at a decent pace. Once things kick off with Hatchet’s Houdini-like escape and particularly vicious stabbing of his first two victims, there’s little slack or down-time until things go boom.

I’d like to have seen Monaghan given more to do on the action front. There is a decent fight against the in-house traitor; otherwise, she is largely limited to creeping about corridors with a gun. There are subplots, such as the team member who thinks his active experience puts him above taking orders from Abby, which ends with him taking on Hatchet hand-to-hand in a decent battle, albeit with an entirely expected outcome. Indeed, the same can be said for the film as an entity. There are no surprises, yet the action is handled in a professional manner, and this helps paper over the obvious flaws. Director Banks does solid work, considering this was her first feature, so we’ll see where she goes from here.

Dir: Sophia Banks
Star: Michelle Monaghan, Jason Clarke, Jai Courtney, Pallavi Sharda

Death Hunt

★½
“What a stupid hunt…”

Despite a striking poster (well played, PR team), for the first hour, you’ll probably be wondering why this is included here. Corporate lawyer Ray Harper (Tucci) is on the road, trying to convince reluctant local farmers to sell their land for development. He’s also taking advantage of the away time to hook up with his bit on the side, Brooke Hamilton (Malcolm). Both these enterprises are rudely interrupted when the couple are pulled over by corrupt cop, Williams (Johnston), and abducted at gunpoint. They are the next “guests” on an island run by TJ (McDonald), where he and his pals can get together to hunt… The Most Dangerous Game. Except, they can’t find any of that, so have to make do with a middle-aged executive and his other woman.

There have been a whole bunch of these in the past, with the results ranging widely in quality. Done correctly e.g. The Hunt, they can be thoroughly entertaining. Done badly, however… Oh, look: here we are. For this gets just about everything wrong. Let’s start with the genuinely terrible audio mix, in which the dialogue is frequently buried entirely. On the other hand, not hearing the dialogue is often for the best. The redneck hunters come off the worst in this department, being given lines which Larry the Cable Guy would reject as stereotypical and cliched. Just to show how evil they are, the director hangs a Confederate flag on the wall of the island cabin. That’s the level of subtlety we plunge into here.

It’s a good 40 minutes before any significant hunting gets going, and when it does, the entire rest of the film is characterized by rank stupidity on everyone’s part. The hunters mention this is the fifth year they’ve done this, and frankly it’s a miracle they haven’t shot each other in that time, such is the level of their incompetence. They can’t even hit a target which is standing still, in the open, in front of them. Fortunately for the trio, Ray is no more blessed in the woodcraft smarts department, and this brings us to the final 30 minutes, where Brooke suddenly turns into Rambolina. This is a surprise to everyone, since there’s absolutely no foreshadowing of this, such as her being ex-army, or even having a concealed carry permit.

It could have become a sly commentary on sexual politics, with “the little woman” ending up being the one best equipped to survive the situation, going from overlooked bimbo to overpowering. However, that’s a transition which would require actual writing skill, something apparently entirely absent in the creators here. Instead, she ends up more or less handed fully loaded automatic weapons, a radio, and all the equipment needed to survive and turn the tables. Do not get me started on the box full of dynamite conveniently stashed in the cabin. At least they do appear to blow things up physically, rather than relying on crappy CGI explosions. That’s a small mercy indeed.

Dir: Neil Mackay
Star: Marlene Malcolm, Terry McDonald, Omar Tucci, Greg Johnston

Bae Wolf

★★
“LARPing for all.”

There is certainly room for reworking of the tale of Beowulf and Grendel, and making the heroines of this version female is what got me interested in it. However, the warning signs were out very quickly. Opening titles which said “Denmark… 500 AD… (-ish)” are a good sign of what to expect, for it’s clear that the makers were not happy to leave their changes at that. Indeed, they consciously embrace anachronism, especially in the dialogue, which is thoroughly modern, and could not be further from the epic poetry of the original if they tried. And I suspect they did try: congratulations on erasing one of the main reasons the story has survived down the millennia.

The basic story is, at least, largely unchanged. The land of Queen Walchtheo (Petsiavas) is under attack from the monstrous Grendel (Kern), and she sends her daughter, Princess Freawaru (Renew) out to find someone who can slay the beast. Freawaru finds a party of Danes led by Beowulf (Hill), who is disgruntled about the legends making her male: “As if you need balls to hold a sword.” They are commissioned for the job, which is where it gets murky, in a variety of ways. The Danes are a bit sketchy, in terms of delivering the contractually required slaughter; Grendel has mommy issues; and the princess falls for Beowulf, because this is 2022, and everyone has to be gay for no particular reason.

This was apparently shot at a Live-Action Role-Playing (LARP) camp, and to be honest, it shows. This is very much at the “running around in the woods” level of fantasy cinema, and at no point even remotely approaches selling its time and place. It leaves the film precariously perched between two stools, neither historically authentic nor modernizing the story. It drops contemporary characters, attitudes and dialogue into the 5th(-ish…) century, and the results don’t typically work, unless you’re playing for comedy. They can’t quite commit to that either, with a jokey tone, that simultaneously feels like it wants its opinions on gender and sexuality to be taken seriously. The net result at points feels like a political lecture delivered by someone wearing a pink pussyhat.

Yet I couldn’t bring myself to dislike this as much as I might. Beowulf and Grendel are both given more complex characters than in some other adaptations, and are helped by decent performances from the leads. I will also admit, the final confrontation between Beowulf and the much-feared dragon is a great example of how you can genuinely yank the carpet from under your viewer. Let’s just say, very little in this world is as it seems, and the film works best when playing on this line between myth, legend and the facts, along with the way they mutate into each other. If they could have developed this aspect more, in lieu of the less successful elements, the obviously low budget and clunky writing would perhaps not have been so glaring.

Dir: David Axe
Star: Morgan Shaley Renew, Josh Kern, Jennifer Hill, Rachel Petsiavas

Flatbed Annie & Sweetiepie: Lady Truckers

★★½
“Hard to give a truck.”

After her truck-driving husband is injured in an attempted hijack, Sweetiepie (Darby) finds herself in a bind. They’re way behind on payments for the truck, to the point that it’s about to be repossessed by C.W. Douglas (Stanton) of Vehicle Retrievals Incorporated. In desperation, she hires experienced driver Flatbed Annie (Potts) to partner with her, working the necessary delivery routes to pay off their debt. However, Douglas is not the only threat the pair face on the highway. The failed hijack was intended to recover a package which has surreptitiously been placed in the truck during a run to Mexico, and its owners remain very keen to recover their merchandise from the new operators,

It’s a TV movie, so you know that means it’s going to be well short of the necessary wallop, especially considering the late seventies era from which this dates. In reality, the mob would have no hesitation in using more direct methods to take their property back, with Annie and Sweetiepie lucky to escape with their lives. Here, the criminals are bumbling, comedic figures who pose no threat and, in fact, are all but forgotten during the middle stages. It’s also remarkable how Sweetiepie picks up the ability to drive a 16-wheeler in only a few hours, considering she was previously a county clerk. Training. It’s clearly vastly over-rated… Mind you, if you’re looking for vehicular mayhem, you’re in the wrong place anyway: an unnecessary citrus avalanche is about as close as this gets.

On the positive side, the case here is better than you’d expect. You may remember Darby from the original True Grit, and Potts would go on to Ghostbusters. The chief delight though is Stanton, playing a repo man a full five years before his iconic turn as a repo man in… um, Repo Man. His character here is an affable sort, considering his profession, who rarely lets anything faze him, playing the guitar as he drives. Indeed, he’s quite the musical talent, at one point whipping out his harmonica to deliver an impromptu rendition of Scotland the Brave, for no apparent reason. The film comes to life any time he’s on-screen, and if this had spun off into a series (as the ending implies was hoped), I’d have watched.

As a stand-alone entity, however, it only barely passes muster as entertainment. The initial set-up is fine, the problem is a script which has no idea what to do with the scenario beyond reaching its end point. Questions such as how the package came to be in the truck, for example, are glossed over in little more than a single sentence, and that entire subplot is not so much resolved as discarded. There are nods to the brotherhood of the road, with other truckers helping out our heroines, an idea likely borrowed from the previous year’s hit movie, Convoy. Like most other elements here, nothing of more than marginal significance results.

Dir: Robert Greenwald
Star: Kim Darby, Annie Potts, Harry Dean Stanton, Arthur Godfrey

Ditched

★★
“No-one is innocent”

Paramedic Melina (Sila) regains consciousness to find herself in the back of her ambulance, along with her patient, Franson (Loranger), and the rest of the crew in various states of health. The vehicle had gone off the road and fallen into a ravine, along with the accompanying police car. It turns out they were transporting Franson and another prisoner to hospital when the crash took place – and it quickly becomes apparent that what happened was far from an accident. A posse of camo-clad hunters close in on them, led by Caine (Gray). Their mission to make all the vehicle’s occupants, both criminal and otherwise, pay for the sins of their pasts. They’ve brought with them the wronged parties in question, to exact bloody revenge.

An interesting idea, undone by a script which never manages to address basic questions, and which relies too much on ridiculous coincidence, necessary so that the film can happen. I mean, what are the odds of every person taking part in the convoy having a lethal secret hidden in their past, for which they escaped justice? I also am impressed with the organizational skills shown by the ghillie-suit wearing vigilantes. We can’t even get half our family to commit to a birthday party venue, never mind everyone trekking out to the middle of nowhere to take vengeance. Then there’s Melina’s concussion, which appears to have no impact at all five minutes later. On the other hand, she miraculously goes from needing to have explained to her, that a gun will stop someone “doing bad things,” to being a thoroughly competent operator of firearms.

The enemy outside are, initially somewhat menacing, at least when they are in stealth mode. Probably inevitably, given the nature of the plot, they eventually switch into unnecessarily verbose, with Caine the biggest culprit in the category of verbal oversharing. [I’m still trying to work out what the “quick and painful” death he orders at one point would be like: surely it’s one or the other?] I did enjoy some messy and vindictive violence, executed in gratifyingly practical ways. For example meted out by a chainsaw, or a shotgun, first to the groin, then to the face. The ending is admirably bleak, if not unexpected – and, again, relies on remarkable happenstance.

Sila does show some promise, and I liked how nothing much is particularly made about her character’s native American heritage. Such normality is exactly how it should be. Melina has a personable nature, and operates in a common-sense way, refusing to panic despite the increasingly bizarre and threatening situation in which she finds herself. There’s hints that unleashing Franson might be the only way to counter their attackers; this might have merited further discussion, though from this site’s point of view, we are happier to let Melina be her own saviour. We would also have been happier to have seen her part of a totally different script:  oh, well, maybe next time.

Dir: Christopher Donaldson
Star: Marika Sila, Kris Loranger, Mackenzie Gray, Lee Lopez

Chained Heat

★★★½
“Peak women-in-prison.”

This may not be the best women-in-prison film, but it’s pretty much iconic. It certainly stamped the template from which almost all would follow. Carol Henderson (Blair) is sentenced to a relatively short 18 months in prison, for her involvement in a fatal car accident, only to find life on the inside is far, far harder than expected. Hazards to be navigated include those on both sides of the bars. There’s the predatory and drug-running warden (Vernon), who has a jacuzzi in his office – bit of a warning sign that. Then there’s his assistant Captain Taylor (Stevens), who is pimping out inmates with the help of Lester (Henry Silva). Meanwhile, a race war is about to break out among the inmates, between the groups led by Ericka (Danning) and Duchess (Tamara Dobson), with Carol caught in the middle.

It’s a stellar cast for an exploitation movie, also including the former Mrs. Russ Meyer, Edy Williams, and the insanely hot Monique Gabrielle as the first inmate to frolic with the warden in his watery play-pen, despite him being more than 30 years older. The nudity is copious, frequent and more explicit than you might expect, especially if you find an uncut version. There is at least one scene of sexual assault which even I found made for uncomfortable viewing. I’d prefer to have had more of the struggle for power between Ericka and Duchess, which is a lot of fun to watch, both women having screen presence to spare.

In comparison, Blair has trouble standing out, choosing to underplay her role, when all around her are going in the opposite direction. This is where the “pinky violence” films from Japan stand out, with their heroines who are prepared to do whatever it takes to survive, and defeat those who stand in their way. Carol doesn’t get there until the very end, if at all, eventually brokering a rather unlikely alliance that sees Ericka join forces with Duchess, when they realize Taylor is the real enemy, rather than each other. Even more unlikely is the way Carol comes into possession of a convenient videotape, implicating Taylor and her crony in murder.

Still, if you are here for the plot, you may have strolled into the wrong review. Blair may have had her regrets, the IMDb saying she “stripped naked because she felt she had no choice.” That seems like a “you” problem, Linda. I’m fairly sure the rest of the cast had no such qualms and, as noted above, she’s likely the weakest link in the characters anyway. Even though it’s twenty minutes before Carol gets through processing and into her cell, it is fairly consistently entertaining, albeit not necessarily for the right reasons, and will likely open your eyes to the important cause of women’s penal reform. Or perhaps just cause you to question certain elements of security procedures in this particular prison. They don’t make ’em like this anymore; especially not with this cast.

Dir: Paul Nicholas
Star: Linda Blair, Stella Stevens, John Vernon, Sybil Danning