Like any genre, W-I-P films fall surprisingly into reactionary or progressive camps. This one wants badly to be the latter, but Jack Hill is no real transgressive. Bogged down by some of the most virulent homophobia I've seen in exploitation film, and i've seen lots, and unrepentant, unsympathetic misogyny, this movie is every wannabe subversive white boy's wet dream. The political opposite of Caged Heat.
Not only surprisingly good, but kind of impressive. I was anticipated nothing more than a low rent parade of tits, sweat and bad acting and while I wasn't exactly disappointed on those fronts, Jack Hill also delivered a pretty solid story that ended up in places I didn't expect. Pam Grier and Sid Haig (his undercover queen sequence was gold) were great but I couldn't keep my eyes off Anitra Ford. Good God...
There's a sense of economy that's not found in most exploitation films that actually makes Tarantino's comparison between Hill and Hawks kind of apt. Most exploitation films hinge on one or two wtf moments, but Hill has the ability to draw even the most absurd moments/characters together, build a sequence and use locations that you wouldn't expect from a woman in prison film. Surprisingly skillful work.
Jack Hill's sleazy exploitation cult classic lives up to its reputation with everything about it - ham-fisted action, low-budget but still overblown set-pieces, gratuitous nudity, juvenile humor - going gleefully over the top. Vintage 70s Corman, a must for cult movie fans.
Jack Hill's greatest work used his strengths (efficiency, thriftiness, a real ear for dialogue) and turned a product into an unforgettable wonder, the sort of thing you can fall in love with. One of the single most brilliantly sleazy films bearing Roger Corman's name. A revolution in a bottle with charisma to spare.