I don't know why I bought this DVD, possibly because it was inexpensive, but, having bought it, I felt compelled to see it through. Well, come to think of it, maybe I bought it see Anne Heche take a nude shower. Everyone needs reassurance from time to time that he's not a person of the opposite sex trapped in the wrong body, although, admittedly, any judgment made on the basis of a response to Anne Heche in the nude is problematic.
I can't imagine which audience this was aimed at. There are a couple of shots that are actually in jokes. Every time one of our heroines is sentenced to a prison term there is a whirling newspaper that finally stops and tells us things like, MELBA GETS LIFE IN PRISON! Okay, that is some retro stuff and elicits a smile from the viewer who's familiar with old movie techniques. The problem is that the people who "get" the joke will have a really difficult time sitting through the rest of this seriocomic garbage. And the sorts of minds that enjoy the story of imprisoned girls screaming and rioting are unlikely to be familiar with spinning newspapers from the old black-and-white movies of the 1930s.
You want a hint of what passes for the plot? Aggie -- Melissa Lahlita Crider -- is framed for the murder of a pop music entrepreneur and imprisoned for life. The music man was, in fact, stabbed sixteen times by Heche, who made off with Aggie's sure-fire pop music hit, "Endless Sleep." Aggie acquires a private eye to locate the real killer, not knowing that Heche is the miscreant. Heche hires a "hit girl" to off Aggie in prison. When that fails, Heche disguises herself and arranges for a short term in the same slams, so she can eliminate the noisome Aggie herself. It all goes wrong for Heche. Aggie is released and returns to the prison later to sing "Endless Sleep" for the cheering inmates, while the viewer shakes off that urge to snooze.
It was written, evidently, by Sam Fuller and there's no question that the movie has the kind of zip we associate with his name. The performances are deliberate parodies of real performances although sometimes, as in the case of Melissa Lahlita Crider, it's hard to tell because only the rudiments of a performance are on display. Heche certainly knows what she's doing but I'm not sure about the rest, except for Nestor Serrano as a crime figure who is pure prosciutto. It's a marvelous experience, watching him run off at the hands.
This brief assessment may be a little confusing, so I'll end with one example of what you might expect to see. Melba, played by Bahni Turpin, as in "Where do they get these names?", is a nice girl who is driven mad by a newscaster on television. She runs to the studio, is introduced to the man while on the air, produces a hidden hammer and whacks him repeatedly on the skull. The studio erupts. And a nameless woman rushes up to the camera, her palms against her cheeks, and screams directly into the lens for a long time. We can practically hear Edvard Munch moaning in his casket, "I didn't mean to do it!"
I can't imagine which audience this was aimed at. There are a couple of shots that are actually in jokes. Every time one of our heroines is sentenced to a prison term there is a whirling newspaper that finally stops and tells us things like, MELBA GETS LIFE IN PRISON! Okay, that is some retro stuff and elicits a smile from the viewer who's familiar with old movie techniques. The problem is that the people who "get" the joke will have a really difficult time sitting through the rest of this seriocomic garbage. And the sorts of minds that enjoy the story of imprisoned girls screaming and rioting are unlikely to be familiar with spinning newspapers from the old black-and-white movies of the 1930s.
You want a hint of what passes for the plot? Aggie -- Melissa Lahlita Crider -- is framed for the murder of a pop music entrepreneur and imprisoned for life. The music man was, in fact, stabbed sixteen times by Heche, who made off with Aggie's sure-fire pop music hit, "Endless Sleep." Aggie acquires a private eye to locate the real killer, not knowing that Heche is the miscreant. Heche hires a "hit girl" to off Aggie in prison. When that fails, Heche disguises herself and arranges for a short term in the same slams, so she can eliminate the noisome Aggie herself. It all goes wrong for Heche. Aggie is released and returns to the prison later to sing "Endless Sleep" for the cheering inmates, while the viewer shakes off that urge to snooze.
It was written, evidently, by Sam Fuller and there's no question that the movie has the kind of zip we associate with his name. The performances are deliberate parodies of real performances although sometimes, as in the case of Melissa Lahlita Crider, it's hard to tell because only the rudiments of a performance are on display. Heche certainly knows what she's doing but I'm not sure about the rest, except for Nestor Serrano as a crime figure who is pure prosciutto. It's a marvelous experience, watching him run off at the hands.
This brief assessment may be a little confusing, so I'll end with one example of what you might expect to see. Melba, played by Bahni Turpin, as in "Where do they get these names?", is a nice girl who is driven mad by a newscaster on television. She runs to the studio, is introduced to the man while on the air, produces a hidden hammer and whacks him repeatedly on the skull. The studio erupts. And a nameless woman rushes up to the camera, her palms against her cheeks, and screams directly into the lens for a long time. We can practically hear Edvard Munch moaning in his casket, "I didn't mean to do it!"