Superstarlet A.D. - I don’t speak McCarthy-speak. It is akin to the hip poetry that dominated the 17th Century dripping syrup-like from the lips the intoxicated poet and, to me, most of the time, making little sense. Of course, maybe more effort is required to unravel the hidden meanings trapped in the syntax. Sometimes, art is complex and creates confusion in the lazy; sometimes, confusion is not art, it is just confused.

      It is safe to say, however, that there is something magical about the language employed by filmmaker J. Michael McCarthy in his latest film “Superstarlet AD,” available on video at http://www.bigbroad.com/ and an independent video store in your neighborhood. Almost comically (although it is difficult to determine whether the chuckles are meant to be intentional), McCarthy’s prose shows a great knowledge of sexploitation films making this poetic a romantic post-apocalyptic homage of sorts. At least, I think it is meant as a homage to sexploitation films, it may be a parody, I'm not quite sure.

Man devolved

      Story: It is not be easy for me to give you any quick explanation of the story-line. It is original and complicated. Sometime in the future, man as we know it is eliminated. The “men” that remain or have evolved (or devolved) are something between the Neanderthal Man and the Cro-Magnon Man. Women (kind of like the ones we know and love) rule the earth and are separated by their hair color. The science of the film is weak or too high-brow for me to comprehend. The story follows several heroines as they travel the country-side in search of the films (soft-core classic porn flicks) of their ancestors.

Kerine Elkins gives a big broad performance

      Review: Gosh, I liked the way it looked and admired the way it sounded. It would be a cool little film to reference at a holiday cocktail party and create intrigue in the minds of those actually listening to your voice. Still, “Superstarlet AD” is hard to recommend. Those who are not repulsed by it will really enjoy it.

      First, there is a lot of camp here. Costumes are all revealing and the nudity it not as sexual as it is exploitive. In fact, all the eroticism seems to be purposely drained away hence the homage to the true sexploitation film. You see, sexploitation films may really not be about sex at all, I encourage you to contact JMM (jmm@bigbroad.com) for further analysis.

Nudie Cuties pack a full barrelled punch

      Second, there is a cool false quality to the production, almost cheap but that would be unfair because its planned. One is reminded of “A Boy and His Dog” or “Zardoz” while watching. If you liked either of those films, you will find a place in your heart for “Superstarlet.”

      Third, there is a standout performance by fem-fatale Kerine Elkins who delivers her lines with much bravado belting out a rock opera tune from somewhere deep within the bowels of her being. Her performance is on the level of Dr. Frank-N-Furter’s entrance in that weird movie that’s gained a rather large cult following.

In this world, Blondes have more fun because they carry the biggest guns

      Finally, this film is just plain odd. People drive hot rods and carry machine guns with film reels strapped to their backs. The scantily dressed females hike around in high heels and battle devolved cave men. At times, this is interesting, and would certainly provide suitable background to your next rave party.

Film Reels as family history. Anybody remember "The Last of the Mohican's?"

      One night after prepping for a hearing, I researched on the wonderful Internet and read every review I could find on “Dolores Claiborne” (you know, the one the one featuring a really good performance by Kathy Bates). The next morning while waiting on my opportunity to speak with the judge, I told another attorney that I had read many, many reviews and commentaries about the film the night before. He responded, rather abruptly, “so what, now your an expert on ‘Dolores Claiborne.’”

      J. Michael McCarthy may be an expert on sexploitation films and the corresponding nostalgia. What he does with this information remains to be seen.

Jonathan Hickman