A very early RussMeyer flick. Biker women with vast breasts flog their boy-toys to death with bike chains. Or something like that - I fell asleep. Seriously weird.
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About five years ago, Russ Meyer made a guest appearance at the Valley Art
Theatre in Tempe, Arizona, for the showing of FasterPussycatKillKill. Naturally,
I had to go, taking my future wife and another couple who had no idea about
this film or Russ Meyer's legacy. We had a helluva good time, and at intermission my friend's wife and I took the opportunity to greet Mr. Meyer
and get his autograph - the only autograph I have ever collected. It was
sort of a triumphal return for Russ Meyer, since many years before he had
been harassed out of town with threats of obscenity charges by none other
than Charles Keating III, who, as we were watching the movie, was sitting
in prison for the part he had played in the savings and loan scandal. Obscenity,
it appears, has many guises.

What was most striking about Russ Meyer was his great sense of humor and his
absolute understanding of the place his films occupy in film history, which is
to say ''kitsch''. Since then a friend and I have started a club in which 
membership requires three things: (1) having read OriginOfConsciousness, (2)
having seen TheApprenticeshipOfDuddyKravitz, and (3) possessing Russ Meyer's
autograph. Pretty exclusive, eh? --DonOlson

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CategoryMovie