mp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B003498RD6">Bitch Slap." And if you don't, perhaps we're not meant to be the best of friends.
"Bitch Slap" wears its influences on its torn sleeves, aping the exploitation classics of the 1950s to the 1970s, particularly the cleavage-heaving oeuvre of Russ Meyer. About the only difference is that Meyer never opened and closed a movie with quotes from Joseph Conrad and Sun Tzu.
Meyer's not the only mentor; the rather energetic credits play out and shake their hips over clips of "They Call Her One Eye," Pam Grier in "Coffy" and Raquel Welch in "One Million Years B.C." Absent visually but not thematically are the flick-cribbing antics of Quentin Tarantino (perhaps best represented by the fractured, nonlinear narrative or the supporting character of Kinki, a deadly Asian woman in a schoolgirl outfit); current, tongue-in-cheek, rat-a-tat-tat efforts like "Smokin' Aces"; and the good-old-fashioned American comic book.
As for the story, what, you want a story? You're watching the wrong movie for that. It's "about" three lovely ladies in a whole mess of trouble over diamonds swiped from a criminal overlord, but that's a mere MacGuffin "? as is a later nuclear device and, well, everything "? to set up the three-ring circus of outlandish situations. Those involve crossings, double-crossings, sapphic love, spy missions, explosions a-plenty, heat-packing midgets and the reunited casts of not only "Hercules," but "Xena," too!
The leggy, curvy femmes fatale are Hel (Erin Cummings), a fiery redhead; Camero (America Olivo), a rough-and-tumble kind of gal; and Trixie (Julia Voth), as a stripper so hot, she literally glows. None of the women is exactly a stellar actress, but all deserve credit for being firmly rooted in the spirit of the exercise. Rather than coming off as stupid and exploited, they clearly "get" the material, double-entendre-laden dialogue and all. Clad mostly in a ripped dress of gold lam
