“Moonlight and love songs
Never out of date
Hearts full of passion
Jealousy and hate
Woman needs man
And man must have his mate
That no-one can deny….”


Women without men? I hear you cry. Ridiculous! Unnatural! As science fiction hero after science fiction hero has declared, no woman is complete without a man – and frankly, I’m inclined to agree. After all, as my colleague, Mr Begg, so rightly says, if a woman doesn’t have a man, how will she ever be able to get a pickle jar open? Or appreciate the sheer futility of ever asking directions? Or know when her butt looks big in something?

On the other hand – since, beyond these three functions, there are no known practical applications for the male sex whatsoever, perhaps it’s not surprising that, over the years, and right across the universe, various Women’s Groups have decided that, like Ms Steinem’s fish, they can manage quite nicely without a bicycle. The B-Masters Cabal has decided to take a look at the societies of these brave pioneer-ettes, and see just how they do get along in the absence of the male sex – and what happens when the male sex does what it does best: turns up uninvited, hogs the remote, leaves the toilet seat up, and ruins everything…

And You Call Yourself a Scientist! reviews Cat Women on the Moon:

“Alpha gives it as her opinion that four of them will be well able to conquer the Earth all on their own. You might be tempted to accuse Alpha of getting overambitious here; but then again, as far as she knows the best that the human race has to offer is represented by Sonny Tufts, Victor Jory and Marie Windsor; so you can’t really blame her for getting carried away.”

The Bad Movie Report reviews H.O.T.S.:

“That, however, takes a very distant back seat to a series of skirmishes between the two sororities, most of which seem to involve nudity of one sort or another (golly, what a surprise!), culminating in a cat fight at a wet T-shirt contest, and the ensuing challenge to settle everything with a game of strip football. That got your attention, didn’t it?”

Jabootu’s Bad Movie Dimension reviews Wild Women:

“Trent explains that he intends to mount another expedition and return to the land of the Ulamas. His shirtless hosts, excited and aroused by his manly tale, insist that they will join him on his quest.
“Are you both serious?” Trent asks, perhaps a bit nervously. “As long as there is women there,” Sparafucile says, perhaps a bit too forcefully, “lead us to them, boy!” After discussing how the women are to be divvied up, the three engage in hearty, manly guffaws. Hard to believe the Ulamas ever decided to live without men.”

Opposable Thumb Films reviews Charlie’s Angels:

“The premise from the original was simple: A reclusive millionaire assembles a trio of brilliant (and awfully purty) women – each unique in background and talents – and together…wait for it…they fight crime! Every week the Angels were presented with the crime du jour, and every week the Angels would kick some criminal ass (all the while wearing revealing clothing and maintaining nearly perfect coiffures). The premise for the recent Charlie’s Angels is the same, with the exception of skin-tight Levis replacing skin-tight Jordache.”

Stomp Tokyo reviews Pagan Island:

“Given the incredibly spare script, threadbare production values, and the bevy of bathing beauties present here, one would think that the film’s main purpose is to titillate. These island girls, however, guard their curves jealously by adorning themselves with leis, which they hold strategically in place whenever they move quickly enough for the flowers to shift. Pagan Island – it’s a movie of complicated contradictions.”

Teleport City reviews Colossus and the Amazon Queen:

“In Colossus and the Amazon Queen it’s the women who perform tasks like hunting and fighting and belching while the men all run around like a bunch of howling fops. It’s also one of the only peplum films to feature a hero who shouts, “Yahoo!” in a high-pitched girlie voice.”

The Unknown Movies Page reviews Dinosaur Island:

“They perform one of their rituals in the opening scene, consisting of them not only tying one of their own up for a sacrifice, but painting another of them blue and having her dance topless. Part of this dance ritual also apparently requires that at one point the fur bikini top of the sacrifice victim gets ripped off. Soon we see who the victim is being sacrificed to – two gigantic chicken feet that step into the camera range!”