Inara: The Jungle Girl-Is Brain Liquification an STD?
Another one for the stew.
I was given this movie by a fan that insists that it is actually the worst movie ever made. I wouldn’t go so far as to claim that, unseating Troll 2
and Manos: The Hands of Fate
from their porcelain throne, but Inara: Jungle Girl
certainly holds its own in the category of “Sucktacular.”
Of course, it’s indie and not even on Netflix, Amazon, or Hulu. I looked, though feel free if you think I missed it somehow. It was actually given to me in a blank cover with a home-printed insert for the cover and a BD-R (Hey, it’s on a Blu-ray!) with the cover pic Lightscribed onto the label side of the disc.
The cover actually had email addresses for two of the actresses from the film.
Now THAT is what I call indie!!
The film opens with a dude in military fatigues looking down on another dude in fatigues who has apparently just had his ass kicked. A woman is lying on the ground several feet away, holding a baby in her arms.
Dude standing up begins to give a ridiculously long speech about how things are, how great he is, how our POV guy is going to eat it, and how he raped the girl lying off to the side. He explains that she is the Holy Mother, and that “they” worship her.
In other words, it’s a Backstory Word-Vomit.
The guy on the ground shoots the motor mouth, and we then get a musical montage of a redheaded girl eighteen years after the fact. She is mourning the loss of her father and even gives us a couple of scenes of extreme overacting to show us her sorrow.
Like, I don’t think they’re shooting in slow motion. I think she is ACTUALLY doing it in slow motion.
Well, maybe it IS in slow motion.
There is a brief scene between her and an old man in her apartment. He tells her that he has been charged with protecting her. She says that she doesn’t care about him, her father, or “Liam and his boys.” Liam is the son of the motor mouth from the opening.
We get another musical montage of her walking around, drinking, smoking, sulking, more walking around, more drinking, more sulking. Music. Walking. People-watching. Walking.
This movie has been on a good f**king half-hour.
What the hell.
What makes the movie watchable thus far? The lead actress (Cali Danger) playing who, we are to assume by this point, is Inara, is gorgeous. Unfortunately, beauty does not a good actress make.
Inara, drunk as a skunk, wanders into an alley where she is jumped by “Liam and His Boys.” These guys are military and wearing their fatigues while all four of them assault and beat up on a skinny little drunk redhead.
Inara fights back, sobers up a little, and kicks the s**t out of all four of them. What funny is that she isn’t surprised at all by her fighting ability. So, what? Am I to assume she’s done this before?
She’s interrupted by her father’s friend and told about a military operation that he wants her to be a part of. She agrees and shows up the next day in her fatigues…
Wait a sec.
I mean I get that she was wearing them during her father’s funeral. But hell, I’ve known military brats who’ve done the same thing and aren’t actual soldiers. But when the hell did she enlist? And are low-rider pants and a midriff official dress code (not that I’m complaining)?
Oh, they’re mercenaries. I get it.
Liam and his buddies are also part of the platoon, and Liam assaults Inara on the plane while they are flying into the warzone. The plane crashes, killing everyone. Maybe. Possibly. Where the hell is the blood?
Is that dude ACTUALLY dead with his arm perfectly placed under his head?
Didn’t want to get his hair dirty?
Inara meets the Amazons and quickly joins with them and their cause for no apparent reason whatsoever. I had to have it turned down low because people in the house were sleeping, but I could still hear the sparse amount of dialogue.
And then we are treated to the fourth montage this movie features where Inara befriends the Amazons and learns their ways in a matter of twenty-four hours. She even starts to talk like them because, you know, she’s always been an Amazon. We just didn’t know that.
Liam and the crowd from the plane survived after all, and they swarm in and gun down the little girl that Inara befriended during her first day with the Amazons. Inara takes command and rallies the Amazons to fight the Mercs.
The Mercs wander down a creek, guns at the ready, and are stormed by Inara and the Amazons. They throw down their guns and draw swords…
Let’s “In Real Life” for a sec. Crazy b**ch with a sword comes running at me, and I am armed with an AK47. Um…kneecap. Foot shot. Probably the last thing a soldier would do is drop his firearm and go toe-to-toe with a crazy chick wielding a sword. And where the hell did the soldiers get swords?! Where were they keeping them?!
The Amazons drive off the soldiers, and Inara hunts down Liam and kills him with the help of her father’s old friend…okay, WAY out of left field there. She takes over as the Queen of the Amazons since the former Queen was killed…okay, missed that one too. What the hell is in this coffee?
Nope, no liquor. No drugs.
Ooh, the end credits!
VERDICT: AMAZON POOPING IN THE WOODS.
Outside of holding the world record for the most montages in one movie, this film also tries to resurrect a long-dead genre. Barbarian-chick films died out sometime in the late eighties to early nineties, and Xena: The Warrior Princess was really only successful because it redirected the genre to broadcast television with an episodic storyline.
One of the biggest nails in the coffin for this film was the fact that the storyline was almost entirely left to the assumption of the viewer. The dialogue is sparse at best, and even the body language is hammed up for the camera.
I will have to give the crew credit, however. The cinematography is fantastic, and the high-def picture is absolutely on target. A lot of time was put into the costuming and makeup. On the flip, even at the end of the movie after combat scenes and a plane crash, the characters are wearing the cleanest military uniforms and loincloths I’ve ever seen.
While I understand getting into the action quickly, there is a level of backstory that needs to be revealed as well. Inara, The Jungle Girl makes the unfortunate mistake of dumping it all on the viewer at once through montages with all the grace of an open drain on a cistern of s**twater at a waste water treatment plant.
If greater emphasis had been placed on training the actors and actresses in the film, and the writing gone over with a finer-toothed comb, this movie would’ve been a watchable indie. As it stands, it’s not a total a**-biscuit. I’d be more likely to label it a “Fart in the Wind.”