This is basically a vehicle for Tawny Kitaen's mammary glands. If you don't get this concept, it ain't for you.
The unfeasibly wide-eyed innocent Gwendoline posts herself and her gamine sidekick to Generic Oriental Sleazeville, and engages the services of a rather greasy alpha male (Brent Huff) to find first her missing father. Oh and then she's suddenly looking for a butterfly instead. The plot is easy to follow, as the exposition is delivered as if spoken by lips of purest plywood.
Then, after a few clunky adventures with oily villains and cartoon tribesmen, they end up in a secret underground city of bondage Amazons. This is the point at which the nipple count goes through the roof. The Amazons are captivated by Huff's winkie and that's where all the trouble starts.
In MST3K terms, it is a very "boobular" movie, as might be expected of the man behind the 'Emanuelle' films. Eurosmut with a dash of hair-metal video. You know... classy. Eighties classy. There are also attempts at knowing humour which clunk painfully across the screen.
Kitaen overacts, Huff underacts, but somehow it doesn't balance itself out.
In short, dopey right down to the molecular level. But if you're in the mood to laugh at bad cinema, or just grew up perving over Whitesnake videos, it could be right up your street.
The unfeasibly wide-eyed innocent Gwendoline posts herself and her gamine sidekick to Generic Oriental Sleazeville, and engages the services of a rather greasy alpha male (Brent Huff) to find first her missing father. Oh and then she's suddenly looking for a butterfly instead. The plot is easy to follow, as the exposition is delivered as if spoken by lips of purest plywood.
Then, after a few clunky adventures with oily villains and cartoon tribesmen, they end up in a secret underground city of bondage Amazons. This is the point at which the nipple count goes through the roof. The Amazons are captivated by Huff's winkie and that's where all the trouble starts.
In MST3K terms, it is a very "boobular" movie, as might be expected of the man behind the 'Emanuelle' films. Eurosmut with a dash of hair-metal video. You know... classy. Eighties classy. There are also attempts at knowing humour which clunk painfully across the screen.
Kitaen overacts, Huff underacts, but somehow it doesn't balance itself out.
In short, dopey right down to the molecular level. But if you're in the mood to laugh at bad cinema, or just grew up perving over Whitesnake videos, it could be right up your street.