One thing for sure, a wild flick like this won't tax the brain. When the two slinky gals, Candy and Ellie Jo, aren't robbing banks in bra-less outfits, they're seducing random guys, or racing somebody's car, or blowing up whatever gets in their way. Need a cup of coffee, just get some dynamite and find a bank. Yeah, this is early women's lib where the girls give orders, not take them-- so move over John Wayne. And guys, you can expect a hormonal surge from the many bed, body, and nude scenes that for sure ain't the 1950's. Speaking of the 50's, is that little Johnny Crawford of The Rifleman (1958-63), now all grown up and playing Slim one of the girls' chosen male desperados. Good to see him picking up a payday. Anyway, things do move along as the production turns LA's San Fernando Valley into a plausible version of rural Texas, especially the back-roads. And brace yourself for a defiant ending that should have those censors of movies past turning in their graves. But I doubt the ending would have been audience accepted even in the '70's had the dynamiters been two guys instead of two nutty gals.
A movie like this is hard to rate since it only compares awkwardly with more conventional types. But for guys especially, the 90-minutes amounts to a slam-bang time passer, while the slam-bang isn't just limited to dynamite or cars.
