I believe I am developing a reputation on this blog for reviewing some really bad movies, or at least lots of B movies. I don’t resent that reputation; indeed, I embrace it.
Seriously, while playing Ozzy Osbourne’s “Bark at the Moon” at a Christmas gig Friday night (later in the evening John and I started having fun pulling out some incongruously non-Christmas tunes; I also covered “There’s a Light (Over at the Frankenstein Place),” and he played John Denver’s “Calypso“), I caught myself thinking, “I really want to go home and watch a movie about a werewolf at Christmastime.”
I did not do that—I ended up watching Hell’s Kitchen (the television series) with my girlfriend while playing Civilization Revolution on the couch. But that random little thought should give some insight into my attitude towards B movies: I love ’em. The wackier the concept, the better!
That said, today’s movie, 1975’s Switchblade Sisters, is not one I will recommend for anyone but the schlockiest lovers of schlock. This film is the textbook definition of an exploitation film, as I gather it’s basically an excuse to portray teenage girls as alluringly violent criminals.
What I found compelling about that film, however, was that the world it portrayed—one in which a gang of girls takes on the established male gangs of a crumbling city—is so sad for the urban blight and desperation depicted. There’s also a fascinating series of gang power struggles that raises the film slightly above its exploitative tone, as newcomer Maggie eventually takes control of the gang, changing their name from the “Dagger Debs” to “The Jezebels.”
The Portly Politico 