Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! follows three go-go dancers who hold a young girl hostage and embark on a spree of murder in the California desert when they know an old man living with his two sons is hiding a big sum of cash around.
I guess plunging necklines and tight shorts aren't what they used to be... Not that such a realization will hamper anyone's enjoyment of this, or any other, Meyer endeavor.
This is the ultimate expression of the American cinema's greatest fetishes: big breasts, fast cars, tight jeans, and sudden death. This is, in its own way, one of the great films of the 60's.
Russ Meyer's fetishistic vision of powerful bisexual amazons of mixed nationalities engaged in criminal super action exists in a cartoonish world of black and white humor where anything is possible
What is it about Meyer that spurs critics to this hyperbole? I think it is an intensely personal reaction to the visceral power of Meyer's unusual images.
