ANGELS' WILD WOMEN is about the ferocious females of the title, led by the maniacal Margo (Regina Carol), who is kitted out with a halter top, hot pants, and a whip. She later adds gargantuan sunglasses and a floppy hat to her ensemble!
Director / muck maestro Al Adamson is behind yet another clunky, non-epic.
Watch! As bikers battle each other for supremacy, mostly amounting to hooting and riding around aimlessly!
See! Margo and her eeevil grrrl gang on their mission to attack and sexually assault unwary men!
Pointless, directionless, and incomprehensible, Adamson even takes us back to the old Spahn's Movie Ranch, where some new weirdo in a groovy robe seems to have taken Manson's place.
Simultaneously, the bikers are out in the nearby desert, drinking beer and refusing to grow up.
In typical Adamson fashion, nothing really happens, while we wait for an actual movie to take place. It's apparent that he had the skeleton of an idea, and decided that a story would only impede the film from mindlessly elapsing.
Not even the appearance of a Joe Walsh lookalike offers any relief! Of course, who needs a plot when you've got fighting, nudity, and a 7' tall John Bloom running around as a biker named Bigfoot?
Any hope of continuity dissolves as the dire dialogue unfolds, sounding as though street people had been promised donuts if they could learn their lines in 10 seconds or less!
Adamson understood his drive-in audience, knowing that they'd either be romancing in the back seat, or so loaded as to render anything onscreen, irrelevant. Still, even by his standards, this one's a slog! Watching it is akin to walking uphill backwards, in anvil shoes! You might reach the top, but you'll be in agony, wondering why you bothered!...
