1990: Bronx Warriors

It's the year 1990 and the Bronx is declared a no-man's land and has been boarded off by the authorities. As now murderous street gangs, who see this as a battleground, run the area. An important young lady, Anne who soon will be in control of or more so a puppet of the Manhattan Corporation. Heads for the Bronx to hide out from these figures. On her journey, Anne encounters Trash the leader of the bikers. After a tussle with a hostile gang and she tags along with him. To get Anne back the Manhattan Corps get the aid of a cop, Hammer, to get in there and bring her back.

Oh, this cheap Italian rip off reeks of awfulness and extreme cheese. Despite being poorly done this ridiculously shonky fluff is nothing more than brainless fodder. Entertaining, yeah… kind of. That's if you're in an undemanding frame of mind though. What follows here is a story taken from such great cult flicks like Walter Hills' "The Warriors" and John Carpenter's "Escape from New York". Instead the concept is treated rather nonsensically with an odd assortment of junky ideas with a pitiful script that just lacked any sort of wit and moments in the story that dragged, which you couldn't help but feel it. The style of it is terribly cartoonish and unintentionally goofy. Especially that of some fashionable gangs lurking in the Bronx. Like the tap dancing group who are real a threat and a hopeless bunch of roller hockey nuts. There are a few neat (if unusual) set pieces orchestrated in a gritty and glum setting. Versatile and upfront camera-work and a titillatingly funky grunge soundtrack capture this, but its too overlong and sloppy direction creates unexciting pockets. It's violent, but it's bluntly executed in a laughable and tatty manner. When it tries to get all-emotional between the casts, it gets lost at sea. The clueless looking Mark Gregory who played Trash was unconvincing and extremely wooden and Stefania Girolami was no better, but boasting the likes of Vic Morrow (who's simply larger-than-life in this meaty role as Hammer) and the charismatic shine of Fred Williamson made it easier to swallow this tripe.

What a crappy imitation! That's mildly amusing crap. Oh, and watch for Gregory's femininely "supercool" strutting.