James Bickert may well be the single best filmmaker in the contemporary US microbudget indie exploitation scene. The writer, director, producer and editor certainly isn’t the most prolific in his field, having made three films in the past decade (on top of his four earlier credits from the late 1990s, none of which I’ve seen), but this limited filmography has established a level of artistry and a distinct auteur identity that very few others working on his level have come close to. 2011’s Dear God No! was easily the best film to come out of the glut of neo-exploitation efforts in the wake of Tarantino and Rodriguez’s Grindhouse, and 2016 sequel Frankenstein Created Bikers – while perhaps a little too ambitious for its own good – further cemented Bickert’s uniquely trashy sensibilities. Bickert’s latest film (co-produced by Brian K Williams, writer-director of another of my favourite US indies from the last few years, Space Babes From Outer Space) sees him venture away from the testosterone-driven bikers and Bigfoot world of his last two films and into that beloved and notorious exploitation realm, the Women In Prison movie. The results are about as grounded, understated and tasteful as you’d expect.
Our setting is the South American island state of Rattica (actually Georgia, doing a good job of doubling for the Philippines). Hapless American student activist Penny (Kelsey Carlisle of Headless and Space Babes), only there because she wanted to help save the turtles, finds herself carted off without trial to a remote hell-hole of a prison, alongside seasoned ex-cons and freedom fighters Jade (Janine Cygan) and Ebony (Kris Donta); no prizes for guessing the ethnicity of those characters.
The trio promptly find themselves at the mercy of both sadistic warden Inga Von Krupp and alpha bitch convict Val (Ellie Church and Tristan Risk respectively, both of whom previously worked with Bickert on Frankenstein Created Bikers). However, corruption in the Rattica prison goes beyond human rights violations, as the jail also plays host to one Jett Bryant (the mighty-bearded leading man of Dear God No! and FCB, once again playing under his own name), an American drug smuggler who, through a bizarre series of events, has somehow found himself declared President of Rattica. This has royally pissed off US intelligence, who have sent super-spy assassin Agent Sixx (Jordan Phipps, another FCB alumnus) to take ‘El Presidente’ out. But of course, there’s a lot more going on than meets the eye, including bizarre and immoral experimentation, and something that looks an awful lot like a zombie.
Bickert’s existing body of work has established that he has an affinity for the tone and content of 1970s schlock cinema that goes way beyond the Austin Powers-ish affectations of so many would-be modern grindhouse films. More than this, it has also established Bickert as a genuinely witty writer and director, who delights not only in throwing eye candy on the screen, but also filling the mouths of his characters with deliciously lascivious dialogue. Amazon Hot Box very much continues along this same path. The fact that female characters dominate proceedings may leave you anticipating a somewhat different tone to his biker flicks, but really it’s business as usual. Church and Risk have also long since proven themselves when it comes to tackling larger than life, boundary-pushing characters, and are every bit as wonderfully OTT here as you’d hope; Church in particular is in her element as the obviously Ilsa-esque warden with the extravagant accent and fetishistic wardrobe. Given that we’ve broached the subject of fetishism, it’s worth noting that, yes, Bickert has merrily embraced the sexploitation aspects that the WIP format has always been synonymous with, although this film’s take on that most time-honoured staple of the genre – the catfight in the showers (involving another Space Babes From Outer Space star, Alyss Winkler) – might be a bit harder-edged than expected.
My principle complaint of Frankenstein Created Bikers was that it was a little overstuffed, running upwards of 2 hours with an excess of intertwining story threads that got exhausting. Amazon Hot Box at times seems to be running that same risk, but I think it balances things out a lot better. For one, it comes in at a far more svelte 85 minutes; for another, WIP movies always tended to haphazardly balance multiple threads, with a revolutionary uprising almost always coming into the equation somewhere. Jett Bryant’s scenes, being most heavily associated with the political intrigue elements, might feel a little disconnected from all the women behind bars action, but they also offer a droll commentary on the inherent absurdity of proceedings: Bryant, too, has proven himself a dab hand at delivering Bickert’s dialogue, which I guess explains why the director keeps on bringing him back and casting him as himself; although this particular Jett Bryant is a somewhat nicer guy than his predecessor, given that he makes a point of treating women a whole lot better. The same cannot be said of yet another returning DGN/FCB actor, Paul McComiskey, who plays – would you believe it – a creepy mad scientist.
I realise I’ve spent the bulk of this review comparing and contrasting Amazon Hot Box to Bickert’s earlier films, but anyone who’s as-yet unfamiliar with his work, or indeed the earlier films of any of the cast, shouldn’t feel discouraged. This is simple, accessible, hugely enjoyable trash cinema with a wink in its eye, a tongue in its cheek and a doobie in its lips. If you enjoy trash talk, babes, brawls, blood, and stuff getting blown up (and don’t mind that not all of it looks particularly realistic; this is super low-budget after all), then you’re sure have a blast.
Amazon Hot Box is available on Blu-ray from 11th September; pre-order here.