Directed by Zoltan G Spencer
Starring Pat Barrington, Kathy Williams, Karen Thomas
"What a hell of a mess."
From the courageous cat who brought us Terror at Orgy Castle comes this time worn tale of a sap and his errant penis. Middle-aged living wreck Joe finds himself being seduced by a Dolly (Karen Thomas, Suburban Pagans), a bubbly blonde teenager. How he got into this position is unknown. It just happened. So there he is, slurping away on her neck in broad daylight, his car parked not too inconspicuously under a clump of trees. Suddenly, out of nowhere, somebody in a black leather jacket, black hat, shades, and gloves pulls a knife on the dude, shows him a Polaroid of this very tryst, and informs him through gritted teeth that the girl is underage. If he doesn't want the photo getting to his wife/boss/priest/mother, than he'll need to cough up $2000.
"We'll be in touch", sneers the blackmailer, and sends him on his way.
Joe has really fucked up with this one. He already has a beautiful wife back home, Mary (Kathy Williams, The Babysitter), who dutifully waits from clad in skimpy lingerie, ready and willing to satisfy his desires as soon as he gets in the door. Unfortunately he's so shaken up by the shakedown that he cannot properly perform. Men are all scum, aren't they?
Dolly calls him the next day to schedule a rendezvous to get the two grand. He shows up, but loses his cool once again and ends up getting naked with her. This time, the black-clad biker chick bashes him in the head until he's unconscious. Then they take the money and haul ass out of there.
The next day, our robbed and beaten pal decides to do a little gumshoe work. He aims to figure out exactly who these monsters are, and then bring them down. All he's seen so far of the knifer-puncher is a black-clad jacket with a lightning bolt. Properly assuming said jacket belongs to a motorcycle enthusiast, he starts searching around the local biker bars for clues. The first one he walks into features a busty tabledancer (Pat Barrington, The Girl With the Hungry Eyes) shaking her titties, so he watches her for ten minutes. He'll never get to the bottom of things at this rate. Eventually he wanders outside to sniff around the bikes. One of the local toughs tells him he's barking up the wrong tree and demands that he scram. He does.
Meanwhile, the Sisters in Leather of the film's title are not through with our hapless hero yet. While he's out looking for them, they have plans for his lingerie-wearing young bride. They drop by his place to pay Mary a visit, showing her the incriminating photos and convincing her that he's nothing but a lily-livered philanderer. Which is true. Then they take her out for a picnic (!). A picnic that soon devolves into a topless photo shoot, naked motorcycle rides, and girl-on-girl suntan lotion rubdowns.
The picnic is about to reach full lesbo orgy when Mary decides that she's not into this scene. I mean, topless rubdowns are one thing, but kissing girls? Yuck! They give her the photo for safekeeping and let her loose.
Strangely, when she gets home she changes her mind. She leaves the photo for her double-crossing hubby to find, and then heads off to stay with her new girl-happy friends.
Her astute hubby follows her and watches the devious plan unfold through the window.
First, the lezzy bikers just let her go to sleep in the other room while they have champagne sex, but the very next day, her initiation into the Sisterhood begins in earnest. Which, as far as I can tell, involves copious amounts of booze and some light-hearted goofin' off on the couch.
Joe heads over the biker joint to find the lightning bolt gang. He tells 'em he's located the ratfinks that stole their emblem, and even worse, "They're dykes!" Naturally, this means war.
Meanwhile, Mary finally gets a clue as to what this is all about when the girls rip her shirt off and drag her to the floor.
"No!" She screams in protest. "I'm not that way!"
"How do you know until you try it?" Asks Dolly.
But then the bikers bust in and ruin everything. Or they make everything better. Depends on what you're into.
At any rate, a topless knife fight is involved.
A shamelessly skuzzy anti-epic from the height of the grindhouse era, Sisters in Leather is, on one hand, a bit of cheat: despite the title and the tagline ("No man or woman is safe from these love-hungry hellcats!"), this is not really a biker chick movie at all, and only one of the girls actually wears leather. On the other hand, it is relentlessly grimy, and the nudity is pretty wall-to-wall, so let's call it even. As long as you don't mind threadbare production values, fuzzy black and white photography, wooden acting, wobbly overdubbing, and low-rent fake jazz - or even better, if you love all that stuff - there's plenty to like about this kooky sexploitation romp.
PS: Zoltan G. Spencer disappeared at the dawn of the 70's. No one's seen him for 40 years. I suspect lesbian bikers were involved.
Sisters in Leather is available from Something Weird Video.
- Ken McIntyre