snatch.

 

 

Day 23 of this glorious misadventure that is 31 Days of Horror and we've hit the good stuff.

This film is a bit of a lucky charm for the Arena tho' seeing as the first time I ever wrote about it the movies star actually left a comment.

This as you can imagine was a wee bit of a surprise.

Partly because it wasn't a threat of legal action but mainly because it meant someone had actually read it.

Who knows what may happen this time?

Lady Terminator (AKA Pembalasan ratu pantai selatan, Nasty Hunter, The Revenge of the South Seas Queen. 1988).
Dir: Jalil Jackson (AKA H. Tjut Djalil).
Cast: Barbara Anne Constable, Claudia Angelique Rademaker, Christopher J. Hart and dozens of people that the director possibly found in the street.

"I'm not a lady, I'm an anthropologist!"

Somewhere in the exotic south seas, the big of hips and high of hair evil queen of those very waters is kicking back in her cardboard castle, lounging around in a tasteful see-thru nightie and market stall mules, her armpit hair tastefully swaying in the breeze.

Understandably shattered after spending the evening murdering a variety of Burt Reynolds a-likes with her frighteningly poisonous - and serpent filled - vagina, her attempts to catch up with the latest gossip in Heat magazine is rudely cut short when a donkey cocked yet disturbingly scrawny bloke climbs in thru the window.

Wearing his granddad's pants.

Licking his thin sweaty lips he launches himself at (and onto) the queen for a wee bit of the old in and out.

The first of many such hellish moments of uncomfortable intercourse during this film I must add.

Indeed if you're of a weak or nervous disposition turn away now.

What your dad really gets up to on his work trips.

Whilst keeping the Queen occupied with some smooth armpit licking our hero manages to reach up into her fearsome fanny and pull out a huge snake which he then turns into a sword.

No, really.

Shocked (wouldn't you be?) by this turn of events, the Queen angrily orders him to change it back and pop it back up.

Oh and if he doesn't mind can he try and find her car keys whilst he's at it.

Determined to put an end to her fanny-based killings he throws the sword away whilst Queenie, in a perfect example of post sex pouting flounces off out of the window promising that: "In 100 years I will have my revenge on your Great Granddaughter" before promptly disappearing into the sea.

Aye hen.

Don't worry tho', the film isn't actually that short because what we've just witnessed is a 'prologue' that will lead - via some snazzy Letraset titles - to 'the modern day' (well, the mid 80s at least) where the bubble permed and bullet nippled student of things Tania (the frankly fantastic Constable) is spending her vacation scuba diving of the south seas coast.

Bizarrely it seems that her thesis is all about the legend of the Queen's infamous killer vagina and she's determined to find some evidence that it really did exist at any cost.

But - and isn't this always the way? - Tania at one point mistakes scuba-diving for getting tied to a cheap hotel bed clad only in a pair of huge pants meaning that before you know it the Queens snake has re-appeared and made its new home in the poor girls (lusciously maintained) lady garden, meaning our sexy student has transformed into an arse kicking, cock crushing unstoppable vixen of vengeance.

Ladies and gentlemen we present the Lady Terminator!

Or the Nasty Hunter to give Tania her alternative title.

Beware the Perminator.....Peow!

And her mission?

Why, to do bad stuff to that bloke from earliers Great Granddaughter, an up and coming popular music singer named Erica (the hamster cheeked Rademaker from, um, not much else) of course.

Cue copious amounts of man-based beatings and violence as or arse-kicking anti-heroine prowls the streets looking for revenge.

And some shiny lipgloss.

Back in the city - and the plot - the local police are at a loss to explain the huge amounts of half naked, bullet riddled and crush cocked corpses that have suddenly begun to litter the cities streets and cheaper hotel rooms, which is the perfect case for the manly Max (Hart, possibly the same one that's now a close-up magician but who really knows?), aided and abetted by his mulleted Israeli man-friend Snake.

Tania farted...and it smelled of shame.
Oh, and Brexit.

And so begins a race against time - and fashion - to prevent the bewitched Tania from extracting the Queens revenge.

Will Max and Snake succeed?

Or at least have a drunken fumble in the back of a car?

And will there be a failed attempt on Erica's life in a brutal (I say brutal but I meant to type cheap) attack in a discotheque followed by a mid-point fire fight in a police station Ala The Terminator?

You'll have to watch it to find out.

Ooh, I'm such a tease.

Thanks to a lucky economic boom in the late seventies (and an influx of cheap cameras and even cheaper foreign workers) coupled with a relaxation of it's up till now archaic and almost British censorship laws, Indonesia's fledgling film industry exploded in a multi-coloured garishly gory lo-fi exploitation movies that bizarrely mixed current Hollywood fads alongside themes and ideas unique to Indonesian culture creating some of the strangest (and in some cases dodgiest) movies ever to grace the big screen.

And the strangest of all must be Lady Terminator.

Not really stealing from the James Cameron hit The Terminator, more like breaking into its house and tying it spreadeagled to a table before sticking a toothbrush up its arse, H. Tjut Djalil's magnum opus cheekily lifts entire scenes, complete pages of dialogue and even certain camera angles from the Arnie blockbuster yet despite the almost non existent budget, manages to improve on the original by adding liberal doses of sex, nudity (and even some sexy nudity) to the mix creating a psychedelically charge psychotronic melting pot of pure grade A cinematic cheese.

And by God am I grateful to him for that.

Blood, breasts and bubble perms....what's not to love?

But the movies biggest asset (in more ways than one**) must be the presence of the statuesque Barbara Anne Constable, an actress whose range can go from frumpy bespectacled student to leather clad killing machine via a skimpy bikini and big pants without once batting an eyelid or breaking a sweat.

It's a crime against cinema - and teenage crushes - that she never made another movie.

We must hunt her down now and persuade her to returning to acting.

If not in films then at the very least we can all chip in a quid each, hire a camera and an old warehouse and get her to act out all of our leatherette, automatic weapon filled fantasies.

I mean how could she refuse?

Honestly if this isn't in your collection you should be ashamed of yourself.






And after all that you still need a reason to view this masterpiece then maybe, just maybe the fact that the credits feature this vaguely amusing caption may finally persuade you...

*prologue
1. A separate introductory section of a literary, dramatic, or musical work.
"the suppressed prologue to Women in Love"

"the prologue to his book on the harrowing contemporary history of West Bromwich"

2. An event or act that leads to another.
"the events from 1945 to 1956 provided the prologue to the post-imperial era"
Or
(in professional cycling) a short preliminary time trial held before a race to establish a leader.

"I got third in the prologue and eighth on the hardest stage"

You're welcome.




































**And in case you were wondering, the phrase 'in more ways than one' refers to the already mentioned fact that she was lead make-up artist on the film and is in no way a cheap reference to her stunning breasts.

Thank you.