36 of 42 people found the following review helpful
Bringing Up a Furball
, April 17, 1999
By A Customer
This review is from: Teenage Catgirls in Heat [VHS] (VHS Tape)
It's almost impossible to review this film, as it's in a category that makes Ed Wood's efforts appear almost Speilberg like in comparison. I saw this movie on cable, and this alone is a credit to the film's producers that they got someone to buy it. This is the type of movie that has cult potential, right up there with Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. It's that bad. In fact, it's so bad I watched it twice, enjoying the exquisite awfulness of it all.
Where to start. Without spoiling any of the plot, such as it is, let us just say that the movie involves an Egyptian cat goddess (portrayed by a 60's vintage table piece that was probably picked up in the discount bin at Goodwill), a number of VERY busty young women (where they were picked up is anyone's guess) portraying humanized female cats in search of mates (don't ask), sundry stubble fields in Texas (where the movie was shot), and several very embarrassed looking felines, who if they could talk would be probably be suing their agents (or the ASPCA) right now.
This is the sort of movie where production values don't exist. Most of the movie takes place at night, and to achieve this illusion the world's cheapest blue filter was used. It doesn't make things look dark, but it certainly gives you a good chance to see if you're blue-green colorblind. The various 'special' effects are of such quality that you can almost hear the film's director debating whether to spring for pizza for the crew or buy yet another 'visual' effect. The dialogue defies description, although, at the risk of a small spoiler, the sight of the female lead achieving orgasm while yelling "Meow, Meow, Meow" at the top of her lungs was worth the pain of watching the rest of the film.
The above not withstanding, the movie is a hoot to watch. The young actors give it a good shot, and no one is taking anything seriously. The willingness of the actresses to walk in the nude or semi-nude through those Texas stubble fields takes courage rarely seen in filmmaking. Whether this film was a film school project gone wild, or whether everyone involved in creating the project had one too many Lone Star beers is impossible to determine. The credits at the end of the film list dozens of contributors and supporters, leading me to think that the film was paid for by passing the hat at local bars near Texas A&M. In any event, see the film if you get a chance. It deserves more word of mouth promoting to get it into cult status. After all, few have the courage to make the truly bad nowadays.
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