Trailer Trash: Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death

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WORDS || Tieri Cafe

1989 was a weird year for film. Dead Poet’s Society was snubbed for Best Picture and When Harry Met Sally was only up for a single Oscar, which it didn’t win. But these movies weren’t the only ones tragically overlooked by the Academy, and I’m not just talking about Back To The Future Part II. No, I’m talking about a god-awful action comedy titled – of all things – Cannibal Women In The Avocado Jungle of Death. Yes, the avocado jungle of death. You shocked?

Produced by Guacamole Productions (yes, really), it appears that this film’s budget was funded by the five people on earth whose deepest passions overlap at “scantily clad models” and “smashed avo”. A cast led by a not-so-talented former Miss November is given a little extra star power in the form of Bill Maher. Bill Maher, of yelling at people on television fame, once starred in a film where the climax was based on two tribes of cannibalistic women arguing whether men are tastier with guac or clam dip. Christ, why doesn’t this screenplay come with an air sickness bag?

After the film came out and was – obviously – panned heavily, the director changed his name from J.D. Athens to J.F. Lawton. I didn’t realise the Witness Protection Program offers relocation for the directionally vision impaired, but hey, it worked. Lawton escaped this embarrassment to become the BAFTA-nominated screenwriter for Pretty Woman. So, I mean, now you know where that film comes from. You’ve got to give him credit, he went from working with a Playboy Bunny turned actress to big names like Julia Roberts and Richard Gere in less than a year. He’s kind of like the Pretty Woman of screenwriting.

The only way one could sit through this monstrosity is with a support team, liquid encouragement and three simple rules; drink every time 1) the word ‘avocado’ is uttered, 2) a painfully ill-fitted literary/pop culture reference is made and 3) Bunny wears pink. For any aspiring production designers out there, sorority girls aren’t allergic to colours other than pink. Also, we are obligated to say that this movie is totally NSFW because one needs to be incredibly under the influence to find this movie watchable. Perhaps the intended audience are those who have a 2000-word essay due midnight and it’s mid-afternoon; the perfect time for a crappy movie to remind you that things could be worse – you could be Piranha women’s next meal.

Speaking as a person who has little time for absurd parodies, the effort put into the story is somewhat amusing. So, one may tip their hat to The Director formally known as J.D. Athens.

Yet despite depicting feminists as literal man eaters and proposing an apparently socially dividing debate on condiments, the most ridiculous thing about the C-grade flick is that a horrifically made Eighties film can manage to address an issue still relevant today and define the objective of feminist movements better than the 21st Century individual.