Megan (Alicia Watson) loses her job and catches her boyfriend fucking her roommate, all on the same day. With nowhere left to go, she goes to stay with her best friend whose husband works at a strip club. He gets her a job there as a waitress, and before long she’s butting heads with a psycho stripper named Jazz (Misty Mundae). It’s only a matter of time before Megan learns that Jazz, who aided by her loyal kill-crazy stripper cronies, has a nasty habit of killing anyone who gets in her way.
At one-hundred-and-one minutes, Strip Club Massacre suffers from a lot of padding (including an overlong opening credits sequence). Heck, it takes a half-hour before we even get to the strip club. Till then, you have to hear all about Watson’s financial and romantic woes. In fact, it seems like more screen time is devoted to her personal problems than it is Misty and company… you know… massacring people. (The third act revelation about her past is kind of in poor taste too.)
Things take a turn down the homestretch when the film switches gears and becomes a mash-up of Thelma and Louise and a rape ‘n revenge flick. Even though the kills are decent during this section of the flick (brick bashing, throat stabbing, castration, coke straw through the nose, and a crowbar gets shoved into a very uncomfortable place), it all feels a bit rushed. If the editing was tighter in the first two acts and a little looser during the third, it might’ve worked.
Misty is unfortunately saddled with a bad wig, but there is one scene where she sports a John Holmes tee-shirt, so there’s that. At least she looks like she’s having fun while chewing the scenery. I’m glad she’s getting work outside the Alternative Cinema fold, but ultimately, Strip Club Massacre sorely lacks the pizzazz those features had.
AKA: Night Club Massacre.
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