The Pussycat Ranch

When this movie was made, there was either no actual Pussycat Ranch or it wasn't well-known...the setting is a working ranch (if a failing one) that is not, when things start, supposed to be a whorehouse.

Chacun à son goût, but I find the women prettier than the usual run, not all of them made that many movies, one sex-scene was a little unusual for its time (there was very little anal sex in American pornography then, and it was typically the province of B-list actresses crying-out in pain), a socially-redeeming warning about moonshine, and in the year of its making it stood-out nicely.

There was good cinematography, a plot, hilariously bad pseudo-attempts at humour, and both terrible but original music and some stolen from the best.

Obviously pure filler ground out by prolific pornographer John Christopher, PUSSYCAT RANCH fails to deliver on its promised whorehouse premise. It's as bad (and trivial) as the recent Helen Mirren/Joe Pesci mega-dud vanity production on the subject.

Most of the film is about a farm family's antics, warring with the landlord trying to foreclose; dealing with most unlikely outlaws on horseback Eric Edwards and Joey Silvera, and a digression into bank robbing. Seemingly as an afterthought, late in the proceedings Samantha Fox comes up with the bright idea of opening a whorehouse to raise the mortgage money. Way too late to justify the film's moniker.

Chalk this one up in the lowest 10 percentile of its big-name stars' career choices.