Innocent women wrongly convicted when they put too much trust into the wrong man are thrown into a hellish prison, where the only break they get from the sadistic lesbians gleefully conducting cavity searches and psychotic male guards smacking them around is when they're allowed to take a long, steamy showers. Been there, done that, only "Caged Fury" has a twist, one that you'll decipher quickly enough on your own, and spend the rest of the movie wondering why the "prisoners" never catch on (the movie's explanation: women are stupid). Also, it stars Erik Estrada.
Our heroines are a pair of Utah farm girls, Cat (Roxanna Micheals) and Tracy (Elena Sahagan). Tracy is the wild sister, the one who ran off to New York and came back looking like a mad scientist's experiment to transform LaToya Jackson into Pia Zadora, but retaining a country gal's love of baseball caps and acid-wash denim. Despite their father's (Michael Parks) misgivings, Cat wants to follow in her big sister's footsteps, only she wants to go to L.A. instead of New York because she's independent that way. As she heads west in her Taurus station wagon she's flagged down by Rhonda (April Dawn Dollarhide), a hitch-hiker fending off a fat hick rapist. Though Rhonda has no stated itinerary, she has a contact in L.A., "fashion" photographer Buck (Blake Bahner). Girls may go for Buck's studly good looks, but they stay for his charming style, such as when he asks his guest from Utah: "Cat, as in p—sy?" The movie's other conceit: the men of Los Angeles are sleazy pigs — except Erik Estrada and Richard Barathy, who rescue Cat from a biker gang rape at the ersatz metal club Buck takes the girls to (Buck would've saved her, but he was busy sexing up Rhonda in a realistically grimy/unrealistically roomy restroom).
After Cat thanks Estrada for his chivalry with her body (hey, she pretty much HAS to), Buck takes the girls to an audition that's so intentionally cheesy the actors get eyestrain winking at the camera. But just when Cat's about to catch on that she's auditioning for—gasp!—a porn video, she and Rhonda are booked on solicitation charges and sent to prison. Lucky for Cat, her big sister Tracy's got her back. Unfortunately, Tracy's not any smarter than she is, since Tracy's plan entails getting sent to the same prison and, well, she hasn't quite worked out all the details. Guess it's up to Estrada and Barathy, the only decent men in all of L.A., to save them. Uh-oh, Estrada gets shot and spends the last act in an ambulance being tended to by a sexy nurse. So it's Barathy, with his lethal kick-boxing skills and luxurious mullet, who finally takes down the bad guys. But first, how about some lesbianism, hot showers and a cameo from Ron Jeremy?
The issue with "Caged Fury" isn't quality. It's bad, sure, but we knew that going in. But why isn't it more fun? There is evidence it's trying to be a parody in the vein of "Reform School Girls," but its humor makes the women, not the genre, the butt of the joke. What's more, "Caged Fury" has no deliciously campy performances. Ty Randolph, as the dominatrix-outfitted warden, does what she can but she's no Pat Ast or Sybil Danning; and Ron Jeremy and Erik Estrada, who have lent camp cache to other direct-to-video projects, are given little to do here. "Caged Fury" also doesn't cut it as exploitation. Director Bill Milling has several adult video credits ("A Scent of Heather," "Blonde Goddess"), but with "Caged Fury" he stays safely inside the confines of an R-rating, not even daring to push into "hard-R" territory. Yeah, you get your T&A, some full-frontal glimpses and some violence (a fork in the eyeball being the goriest set-piece), but the sex is so tame it's not even worth mentioning. A guy who directed hardcore porn skimps on the sex scenes? Guess Milling wanted people to see him as something other than a porn director, but sometimes it's best to stick with what you know.
