Invasion of the Bee Girls

JULIE ZORN:  All right, you might as well know. We went to dinner at the Flamingo Bar and Grill. And by about 10:00 we were playing footsies under the table and having dessert like the good old days. And then we went to the hotel.  And then it happened.

AGENT AGAR: What happened?

JULIE ZORN:  We balled, and we balled, and we balled until he dropped dead.

AGENT AGAR:Touché. Let's go to lunch!

It took me a while to scrub my mind after the rape-fest that was Nude Nuns with Big Guns, and yet for some reason, I still wanted to dive right back into a sexploitation flick. Maybe I just wanted to see one done right. Who knows?

Maybe I just like boobs. Yeah, it's probably that.

Moving along.

Mixing Mad Science and Sex is never a bad thing in my book. What could go wrong?  I mean other than creating an army of sex-crazed killer bee-women. Psychotic sex-crazed-Stepford's aside, you've got nothing to worry about. Following a formula startlingly similar to a sexualized version of Jaws (1975), the film's story unfolds as a group of horny scientists are killed through "sexual exhaustion" until a curfew and forced abstinence is put in place. However, much like for Sarah Palin's children, the abstinence plan works about as well as you would think and the deaths continue until the movie switches gears into a classic 1950's monster movie complete with radiation and mutant bees.

And boobs.

Unlike our previously mentioned heavily armed Catholics, the film's level of misogyny never really rises above the traditional pat on the head of the self-assured male, who is then promptly seduced and killed by a killer bee-woman. Sure, the women here (either innocent and ignorant or seductive and murderous) are nothing more than sex objects, but that's the entire point; what with scenes carefully lit to hide the face but reveal the breasts and buttocks. It's easy to see what the main selling point of the film was (hint: It's not the compound EYES).

But is it any fun?

And the answer is absolutely.

From the opening notes of the insect-rific fa-la-la score by Charles Bernstein, to the closing momentous destruction of the film's doomsday device, there is never a moment where you won't marvel at the cheap 70's take on a b-grade sci-fi monster flick.

Besides, there's bees and boobs.

Nude Nuns with Big Guns

Before we begin, A statement: I both owe Joseph Guzman a debt of gratitude...and a punch in the groin.

While surfing around the interconnected web we call the internet, I stumbled across two things. One: The Cavalcade of Schlock website I'd left in other hands when I moved to New Mexico was now in such a state of disuse, it had actually gone offline for over a week and nobody noticed-and Two: I saw a low-budget sexploitation revenge flick called "Nude Nuns with Big Guns" on Netflix. When a higher power sends a notice as powerful as this, I get the message. After having seen NNWBG, I had to bring the Cavalcade website back, just to talk about it. So for that, Mr. Guzman, I thank you.

Before we get into the details, I'll go ahead and get this out of the way: Yes. The nuns are nude (as are every one of the other 23 women in the picture save three). Yes, two of them do in fact wield guns of the "big" variety. If there's one thing the film gets right, it's truth in advertising. Now to the story, such as there is:

Sister Sarah (Asun Ortega) embarks on a holy path of bloody vengeance (while nude) after being forced into the drug trade (while nude) and prostitution (while nude). Along the way, she rescues another nun (Aycil Yeltan who is also nude), who also happens to be her lover. Along the way she runs afoul of the ultra-rapey biker gang hired to provide muscle for the entire operation.

If imitation is the highest form of flattery, then Robert Rodriguez should be blushing like a school girl. It's as if the director of this picture watched the Mariachi series and said to himself, "You know what these films are missing? Rape. Lots of rape. I can fix that!" and proceeded to do so-only without the kinetic energy, style, or story-telling ability. We've got all the Rodriguez Mariachi tropes on display, down to the gun in the guitar case. Now, I'm not against a good homage here and there, especially considering that much of what Rodriguez does is a tribute to the Grindhouse films of the 70's (like, say...Grindhouse), but he throws in a fun twist here and there. Not so here.

Complaining about misogyny in a sexploitation flick is like jumping in a pool and complaining it's damp, but there are limits. Limits to which this film barrels straight past and then decides, "you know what? Watching this dude rape a woman for five minutes was so much fun the first time, let's do it again, only this time let's have him rape a nun for four minutes of screen time!" The worst bit about this is that there is so much rape in the picture that it has its own musical motif on the soundtrack...which is a ripoff of Cherry Darling's theme from Planet Terror, a movie who's primary theme was one of female empowerment. I am focusing on the rape because a good sexploitation flick (or even nunsploitation-it's a thing, really it is) manages to somehow both exploit the female form while empowering it (see any 70's picture with Pam Grier). Here, the only strong female is Sister Sarah, and even she spends most of the picture being victimized. Not only that, her Mission from God is mostly explained away as insanity brought on by overdose, so the script even undercuts her.

All told, this movie managed to disappoint on all levels. It had sex without excitement, violence without energy, and plodded along miserably from point to point. If you really want to screen this, I'd recommend large doses of tequila and pairing it up with I Spit on Your Grave or Evil Breed: Legend of Samhain for one hell of a miserable evening.

Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai, The

I found this movie while digging through the "Foreign Thriller" section of Netflix.  I dug the poster for this little Japanese sexploitation film, so I didn't really read the description of the plot. This left me totally unprepared for what I was about to see, and as it developed, I took to the Twittersphere to share my utter bewilderment.

  • The Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai (2003) is a weird damn movie.
  • Not only is it borderline porn, but a prostitute becomes a zombie genius after finding the severed finger of George W. Bush and getting ...
  • And by "borderline porn", I mean they show money shots... with Zombie prostitutes... who can now apparently see into the future.
  • Just noticed the second tweet got cut off. She becomes a genius after getting shot in the head..while carrying George W. Bush's finger.
  • Ok, now the Zombie is mumbling points by Descartes and Socrates while performing oral sex on a college professor. This is a NETFLIX movie.
  • Why do all of these men keep having sex with a woman with a bullet hole in her forehead???
  • A vision of George Bush speaking Japanese just appeared in the bottom of a bucket of water. His severed finger is flying now.
  • Oh dear's getting naughty again. The Zombie finger is doing bad things to the Immortal Zombie Psychic Prostitute.
  • I just noticed the finger has an American flag painted on its nail. That MUST mean it's Bush's finger. I'm sorry, CLONED finger.
  • Oh hey, Immortal Zombie Psychic Prostitute (IZPP) is naked again...and the finger just popped out of a naughty place.
  • Wait. You look INTO the bullet hole and SEE THE APOCALYPSE??? And THIS makes you want to sex up the IZPP??? My. Brain. Hurts. Now.
  • Ok. The professor is now running around in his underwear trying to sex up IZPP and discuss philosophy again.
  • And the police in this movie are duuuuuurty.
  • Aaaaaand now the Professor is dead. See? Told you sleeping with Immortal Zombie Psychic Prostitutes is bad for your health!
  • Immortal Zombie Psychic Prostitute says floating cloned finger of George Bush will start the Nuclear Holocaust. Of COURSE it will.
  • And hey, she's naked again. OF COURSE she is.
  • Oh, now this is just wrong. They're sticking the finger in the bullet hole in her forehead? Disturbed people, these filmmakers are.
  • Something's wrong. We've gone 10 whole minutes and nobody's taken their clothes off to have sex with the Immortal Zombie Psychic Prostitute.
  • Ah, there we are. All better now.
  • Wait, Immortal Zombie Psychic Prostitute and Murdering Cop Bad Guy fall in love after violent sex acts??? OF COURSE they do!
  • And yet ANOTHER man wants to have sex with Immortal Zombie Psychic Prostitute!
  • I've never wanted to sleep with a Zombie woman with a gaping bullet wound IN HER FACE. But apparently this is a fantasy of some screenwriter
  • ....and now GI Joe Action figures are running panicked across the screen. And here I thought the movie had already been weird or something.
  • Hey, finger's floating again! I think that's supposed to be ominous...and everybody's dead now. Yep. Ominous indeed.
  • "Farewell to Arms"??? What the hell is THAT supposed to mean? Wait, is it over now? WHAT?
  • Well, at least the bullet fell out of her head...But why is she still alive??? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? Now there's SURFING???
  • Oh hey, and there goes the Nuclear Holocaust. The End. OF COURSE it is. Wow.
  • Credits are over...but the movie keeps going....and getting weirder. WHY WON'T IT STOP?? SHE JUST PUT THE EARTH IN HER BULLET WOUND!
  • ....where it exploded. Now there's smoke coming out of the wound. Seriously. I'm not making this up. I need a drink.
  • Thus ends the Cavalcade screening of The Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai (2003). Thanks for joining us.

I can safely go on record that this movie is, hands-down, the weirdest movie I've ever seen. Even though there are two rape scenes (something I never enjoy seeing in a movie), I'd still recommend it, because it's just too weird to pass up. If I had actually read the plot description, I would have been better prepared:

When call girl Sachiko Hanai (Emi Kuroda) gets shot in the head, she not only survives, she emerges with psychic powers and a genius IQ. Soon, the slut turned brainiac is living a life of danger, having unwittingly walked off with George W. Bush's finger. With the president's fingerprint all that's needed to launch a nuclear missile, just about every spy in the world is after the digit -- and Sachiko -- in this surreal sexploitation romp.

I feel slightly dirty for admitting this, but I ended up giving the movie a 3-star rating in my account. With their recommendation system being based off your reviews of other titles, I'm kinda curious to see what they end up sending my way now.

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