I have to admit to having a serious soft-spot for this sort of film. Back in the day (around 1988!) it was common for a friend of mine and his lady-friend, and sometimes a lady-friend I might locate, to get together on a Saturday night, order some pizza and rent “bad” movies. The argument always ensued, of course, sometimes we liked movies that were so-called “bad” (I still contend that one of the worst films I’ve ever seen was Top Gun) sometimes one of us would like a film, and the others would roundly hate it or vise versa. Troma films were perennial favorites, but I always loved the post-apocalypse populated with fluffy-haired maidens meting out frontier justice, or whatever. I always loved the effect Mad Max had on the industry, and the ridiculous shoulder-pads and frizzy, wild hair-styles ladies favored back then were always good for spitting out your wine cooler.

I’m not going to give you a play by play on this one, but you can expect evil dudes dressed like pro-wrestlers (especially ahem, the Road Warriors) and frizzy-headed blondes on horseback with mystical powers to talk to falcons, and shoot literal rays out of their eyes, and whatnot. I know what group I wanna hang with! For some reason the doltish future men aren’t impressed with gorgeous ladies and instead spend their time waging a bizarre and meaningless war against them for no bloody profit whatsoever. Well, at least none I could discern as I tried to keep my attention rooted.

You’d think any human being with the power to zap shit just by looking at it would pretty much command the world–following an old Jules Verne axiom that sufficiently high-tech pretty much makes you untouchable and beyond reproach (an old novel of the sci-fi master centers on the god-like abilities afforded a singular individual because he’s the owner of a flying, car-boat-submarine!).

So the ladies are kind of the mystical clan or “sisterhood” if you will, though you don’t get much of a feel for any tenets or cultural ideology maintained by the clan. The boys of course are just all about their guns and steel. Eventually, the ladies end up getting chased around a bit by yet another “race” of human derelicts who appear kind of like future zombies, where’s the love? Huh?, and come upon a serious cache of weapons that put them on “equal” footing with the fellows. I put equal in quotes there because they already have a goddesss with the powers of one! Yet for some untold reason she doesn’t just level the playing field with her pretty eyeballs.

Much of the acting is of the walking away and backs turned variety, causing quite a bit of mumbling. And the finale is a bit of a Deus Ex Machina but, it’s still got some fun moments and plenty of inadvertent laughs.

Another Freebie on Prime, if you’re into the bondage gear. Oh, I entirely neglected to mention the soundtrack which sounds like someone’s buddy noodling on a state of the art 1981 Arp synthesizer. At one point one of the sisters comes across an old–still working–cassette player and the beat-less synthesizer honks that come out are a bit Kraftwerk without the craft or the work. Somehow she likes it!

2 thoughts on “The Sisterhood (1988)

    1. I agree, these sorts of films have a great deal of potential in terms of visual novelty. They don’t always take advantage of that opportunity but . . . Also! I had forgotten to mention the lone synthesizer noodled soundtrack. It’s a hoot in itself.

      Liked by 1 person

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