In one of his films Woody Allen awoke in a panic gasping "No more Polish women!". He could have had this film - awash with strong Slavic faces - in mind, although the copious quantities of tobacco the sinister coven in wide-brimmed black hats consume betrays it's gallic origins.
It posits that time-honoured fantasy of a future in which only women survive and with the shackles of patriarchy thrown off inevitably turn upon each other.
Awash with hot girl-on-girl action, Freudian symbols like a horse draped in a veil, carnivorous caterpillars, women with hairy arms lasciviously handling guns and lines like "Would you like some purple soup?" it's all so earnest you suspect a leg-pull, and a wanted poster bearing the name 'Kate Bush' certainly indicates that someone's tongue was in their cheek.
It posits that time-honoured fantasy of a future in which only women survive and with the shackles of patriarchy thrown off inevitably turn upon each other.
Awash with hot girl-on-girl action, Freudian symbols like a horse draped in a veil, carnivorous caterpillars, women with hairy arms lasciviously handling guns and lines like "Would you like some purple soup?" it's all so earnest you suspect a leg-pull, and a wanted poster bearing the name 'Kate Bush' certainly indicates that someone's tongue was in their cheek.