The title tells you all you need to know. And yet, I'll also tell you that the latter are also gangsters, so when one of the “exotic dancers” accidentally kills one in the opening scenes, the “vs.” part of the name arises. In the hands of someone like John Landis (An American Werewolf in London), I suppose something like this could work, but even he would know the flimsy concept would be better relegated to a segment or fake trailer within his sketch films, whether Kentucky Fried Movie or Amazon Women on the Moon.
The credits don't say, but the movie reeks of comic-book origins, and director Jonathan Glendening (Night Wolf) has structured it as such, with split screens made to resemble panels and utilizing pieces of illustration. But the art is awful, not up to the level of a Kickstarter-funded DIY comic. It's as if it were created not by pen, but a wholly ineffective Photoshop filter.
I felt actual embarrassment for the unknown — at least on these shores — ladies who parade around in various states of undress for such a piece of trash. A few famous faces pop up, notably Sarah Douglas (Superman II's Ursa), again playing evil; Martin Kemp, formerly of Spandau Ballet; Page 3 staple Lucy Pinder, who does exactly what she's supposed to do (keep quiet and look bosomy); and Robert Englund, who now can make a thematic shit sandwich by putting this along his role in the equally insipid Zombie Strippers.
The hate-yourself ending hints a vampiric sequel. The threat is duly noted. —Rod Lott
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