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The sort of movie where the Native American outfits appear to have come from Woolworth complete with rawhide leather go-go boots. The multiple titles alone tip you off it was hastily made for the bottom half of drive-in bills. It's sort of interesting in how it reflects (or panders to) the spirit of the late 60's/early 70's: protofeminist condemnation of rape, and peacenik condemnation of revenge. Meanwhile the viewers are supposed to get their kicks from the aforementioned acts, though at least the rape happens off-screen. Also typical of movies at the time, the story is bleak and pessimistic but for once mercifully short. Still it's worthy as a vehicle for Keenan Wynn, known for playing endearing cantankerous roles like Alonzo P. Hawk in the Disney Flubber movies. Here he has a scenery-chewing good time as a genuinely nasty bad guy, and he looks radiantly fit in his S & M-tinged nude scene. Another bonus is the theme music by future pina colada songwriter & Broadway director Rupert Holmes.
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