Aimy in a Cage

This is the kind of German Expressionism meets Art-Deco Kitsch that was popular with low-budget guerrilla filmmakers and artsy porn directors in the eighties, and even then not so much. Style-over-substance without any discernible style other than pseudo-fifties-steam-punk, this is what would happen if you gave a first-year film student a six-figure budget. If you attempt to hang on through the first twenty minutes or so hoping that a semblance of structure or cohesion will begin to take hold of what loosely passes for a plot, you'll just wind up more disappointed. You'd be better off digging up an old copy of Meet the Hollowheads or Terrorvision. Even Cafe Flesh would feel like a step up from this.