Review of Big Bad Mama (1974) by Kevin M — 01 Apr 2010

"Big Bad Mama" is a heapin' helpin' of sleaze, Southern style, made to order for undiscriminating audiences at drive-ins by our friend Roger Corman. This would be an unremarkable knockoff of "Bonnie and Clyde" by way of his own "Bloody Mama" if not for the grand buffet of ham acting on display here, garnished with one of the shoddiest screenplays Corman ever produced.

Witness the jaw-dropping scene where Angie Dickinson interrupts the shotgun marriage of her knocked-up daughter Robbie Lee (Lace in "Switchblade Sisters", without her annoying accent), which culminates with the preacher screaming "That's Goddamn blasphemy!!" With her other daughter Susan Sennett (Candy in "The Candy Snatchers") at the wheel of a stolen car, they immediately embark on a crime spree in 1930s Texas. For no reason other than the story demands it.

There is a hilarious bank robbery, which is interrupted by Tom Skerritt and a nameless friend, who also have designs on the bank. Shucks! The punchline comes after the horrific bullet-riddled carnage, where Skerritt's buddy gets a pizza-sized hole blown in his chest and Skerritt ventilates a handful of cops with his Thompson. Then he proceeds to casually banter with the women before honing in, with the fluid grace of a 1970s swinger, on Ms. Dickinson and her twins. He also hones in on her two daughters (who aren't twins), who close this scene by giggling like girls at a middle school dance.

No mention of the death defying pursuit, no discussions about cash dispersal and certainly no mentions of Skerritt's forever nameless buckshot-riddled former partner in crime. From here on out it's much sexy time, and when William Shatner comes in for his easy paycheck gig, the plot of "Big Bad Mama" has less to do with crime and more to do with who's shagging who at which moment in time, for which reason. Also some period cars flip over at speeds that sometimes exceed 20 mph.

Look, this is cheap gutter slime passing for celluloid. You knew that the moment you saw Corman's name on the screen. "Big Bad Mama" delivers the requisite amounts of wanton crime, juicy blood squibs and T&A in an episodic fashion. Perfect if you're an intoxicated patron of a drive-in theater, perhaps seeing this as part of a triple or quadruple feature. For discriminating viewers, there is nothing to recommend here.