William Bibbiani Reviews Bitch Slap!
As the title suggests, Bitch Slap is the kind of movie that desperately cries out for attention using every immature tool at its disposal, but at the same time also tries to reject critical scrutiny. If it were a high school student it would be the one who spends all 45 minutes of the SAT’s essay section drawing crude pictures of guns, swords and titties. Sure, they did what they set out to do, but can they really blame anyone for grading them down for it?
Granted, Bitch Slap was made with a particular audience in mind. If you’ve ever used the word “brewskie” unironically, you’re in! And the drunken frat boy target demographic will no doubt be appeased by the film’s base sexuality, random acts of ultra-violence, 5th grade sense of humor and so-sexist-it’s-quaint take on feminist theory, provided of course that they are drunk enough. But without some form of mental intoxicant Bitch Slap is a thin exercise in the Russ Meyer/Roger Corman school of exploitation filmmaking: as plotless as Swamp Diamonds, but never quite as crazy as Supervixens, Rick Jacobson’s film is probably the best sexploitation film we’re likely to get in theaters these days, but better suits a party environment than a theatrical one, unless perhaps the theater is packed with raucous, undersexed teenagers.
But… that’s not particularly a bad thing.
The plot of Bitch Slap, such as it is, involves three crazy-hot and over-stimulated babes, including the business-suited redhead “Hel” (Erin Cummings), brunette superbitch “Camero” (America Olivo) and the raven-haired, ditzy stripper “Trixie” (Julia Voth), as they search the area in and around an abandoned trailer somewhere in the middle of nowhere for buried diamonds. (See? Swamp Diamonds.) Along the way sexiness and brutality ensues as people keep showing up either looking for their cut of the loot or just looking to be a sexy piece of man meat for any ladies in attendance. (I’m looking at you, charmingly dorky Ron Melendez. And again… Swamp Diamonds.) Flashbacks attempt to fluff the plot a bit by adding needlessly complicated backstories that involve – naturally – betrayals, conspiracies and lots and lots of green screen. But really, every time any of the (clearly talented) cast opens their mouths, it’s little more than an excuse to get us to the next wacky fight scene, finely choreographed by stunt queen Zoe Bell, or perhaps to an unnecessary but very much appreciated non sequitor water fight between our lovely anti-heroines.
So Bitch Slap is a simple movie playing at complexity to avoid becoming dull. This is fine, as by the time Erin Cummings, who here demonstrates the potential to be this generation’s Beverly Garland (or at least its Joan Severance), starts blowing away idiots with some kind of Rob Liefeld-esque supergun it will be abundantly clear that the film is devoid of lofty ambitions. Still, the film’s take on its female protagonists in particular warrants some kind of lengthy critical study that is perhaps best left to film students looking to make a name for themselves. Empowered but slaves to their own sexuality, smart but only in contrast to a supporting cast who all seem to have been huffing paint fumes, and ultra-violent for little reason other than the fact that they’re in a movie called “Bitch Slap,” it’s unclear whether we’re supposed to admire, pity or simply ogle these women whose lives are clearly too complicated to be enjoyed.
In fact, it is that that distinct lack of mirth that keeps Bitch Slap from offering the same unbridled entertainment experience as its obvious spiritual predecessor Grindhouse, even though Rick Jacobson’s film does embrace the raw sexuality that both Planet Terror and Death Proof sorely lacked. Sadly, that sexuality – though potent and certainly succulent – is surprisingly chaste, pornographically speaking, and audience members seeking much in the way of actual nudity from the curvaceous female cast they are encouraged to eye lasciviously will be forced to find themselves looking elsewhere. Bitch Slap instead turns to giddy, brutal violence to titillate viewers, which ultimately feels a bit disingenuous. How can a movie that dares to call itself “Bitch Slap,” and indeed markets itself entirely on that audacity, dare to hold anything back?
Though energetic and, shall we say, “bountiful,” Bitch Slap is ultimately little more than a tease: a playful stripper instead of the filthy prostitute we were promised. Sure, it’s still fun, but this particular breed of pleasure should have come with a little more guilt… or at least a free bottle of two buck chuck.
Bitch Slap, from Freestyle Releasing, directed by Rick Jacobson, written by Eric Gruendemann and Rick Jacobson, starring Erin Cummings, Americo Olivo, Julia Voth, Ron Melendez and Kevin Sorbo, opens theatrically on January 8th.
