She-Devils on Wheels (1968)

With a title like "She-Devils on Wheels," you'd expect an exploitation film, but not necessarily a feminist one.

Okay, it's not really, but it tries hard to convince you it is.

The titular "She-Devils" are an all-female biker gang called "The Man-Eaters," a group of gals who have taken off their aprons in favor of leather chaps, climbed on their hogs and hit the open road.

Their leader is the aptly-named Queen (Betty Connell), who rules with an iron fist, enforcing their rules, the most important of which apparently is that members are not allowed to have relationships with men that are anything other than strictly sexual in nature. These macho chicks aren't some bunch of Betties who need to snuggle when the deed is done.

In fact, they establish their pecking order quickly, racing their bikes for the pick of a harem of men just begging to be picked first. Or second. Or at all.

While the premise sounds fun, director Herschell Gordon Lewis, also known for his ultra-gory series of horror films, takes all of the teeth (and the more fun aspects of the exploitation genre) out of the film. The closest we come to nudity are a couple of bashful bra shots (and on a couple of occasions we're tantalized but for an awkward covering of the naughty bits), and it's hard to recall even a swear word. The raciest things I remember hearing are "let's make it," and "you-know-what," as in "I'm gonna kick you in your you-know-what."

It seems like someone, be it Lewis, the producers, or maybe a Hollywood censor, would just find it too shocking to say something off-color. It's odd considering there are dozens of racier exploitation pictures made during this time, but this plays out like the TV-movie version of those flicks.

And very little happens in the film. It's like a continuous loop of three shots: chicks on bikes (at low speeds on what appears to be an empty airport runway), chicks stopping and talking about how they need some meaningless sex, chicks arguing. They even have this bad transition device with a photo of a biker girl that spins like on a turntable.

There are a couple of subplots sewn in, one involving a member of the gang falling for one of her johns. When the girls find out, they're aghast, and she's presented with a choice: tie him to the back of your bike and drag him, or we do the same to you.

The other revolves around a rival biker gang made of all men who clash with the Man-Eaters. It's tough to have any fear of them after the comically bad sequence where the ladies soundly thrash them in a street fight, but eventually they go for their revenge. The culmination of the feud during the film's climax is the movie's best moment, bursting full of Hollywood cheese. I won't give it away, but let's just say Lewis is known for gore.

The film's best line has to go to the Man-Eaters' motto, which they chant before their first night of conquest: "Sex, guts and blood, and men are all mothers!"

The funniest thing is it plays as if it wants to be a feminist response to the Hell's Angels, but these Man-Eaters are all talk.