In 19th Century France, a young Bram Stoker is captured by a man-hating, all-female cult of thong bikini wearers. Aided by flesh-eating rats, the warrior women raid the lairs of evil men ...
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In 19th Century France, a young Bram Stoker is captured by a man-hating, all-female cult of thong bikini wearers. Aided by flesh-eating rats, the warrior women raid the lairs of evil men and punish them. Our hero must decide between his wish to escape the dangerous cult and his love for one of its members.Written by
D.A. Kellough <email@example.com>
Bram Stoker and his father are travelling by horse and carriage, when hooded robbers attack them. Mr Stoker manages to escape, but Bram is taken hostage. They take him back to their hidden lair, where they are revealed to be man-hating women who prefer the company of rats than men. After surviving the tortuous ordeal because of one of his captors. Bram is asked to write down their bold exploits, so that they would become a feared bunch amongst men.
T & A, T & A and T & A oh yeah, you got dirty rodents as well (supposedly hundreds, no thousands). This cheap made for TV Corman production is downright seedy and all about showing a stunning flock of women in very revealing outfits. If they're not venting out their anger towards men, they're dancing about topless for their queen's pure entertainment. Oh joy! How true is it to Bram Stoker's short story? I wouldn't have a clue, but I think it would be far from it. What might have been a classy Gothic tale descends into pure b-grade schlock, but like you would hope, it keeps it lively and fun. For this type of film it's mostly well made and has some not so good (rats getting the munchies and gnawing down their meals in no time) eye-boggling scenes mixed in with bloody slaughtering, cheesy combat and titillating bidding's. Sleaze hounds will be in heaven. Cue gratuitous soft-core activity now. The way the kinky story is staged, it feels like a tame porno crossed corny exploitation. Looking at the cast and Adrienne Barbeau's name sticks out like a sore thumb. What's she doing here maybe needed the extra doe? But she tremendously hams it up as the Victorian laced Queen of the vermin. Her divine presence chews up the scenery without losing an ounce of dignity. Hows that?! Though her fashion stylist went bananas with that ever-changing hairstyle! The rest of the performances (made up of mostly Russians) are plain stiff, but there are definite beauties lurking. A fairly tempting Maria Ford is easy on the eyes and Kevin Alber steadily chips in as Bram Stoker. Somewhere there about are Linnea Quigley and Nikki Fritz in extremely minor appearances as rat women. The script was filled with banally leaden dialogues and maybe concentrated on that aspect too much. A standard production is on show, but the clammy sets are well adjusted. Intrusive photography (peeping tom in rat vision) and an overbearing music score lashes out. Dan Golden's direction is simply by the numbers and the absurd screenplay is glaringly feisty and heavily plotted. Plotted? Of course, but you know its still rubbish.
How bad? Real bad. This embarrassingly cruddy and inane trash entertains in a ridiculously senseless sort of way. Only true aficionados of low-grade camp should bother seeking this one out.
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