Barb Wire

1996’s “Barb Wire”, directed by David Hogan.

Starring Pamela Anderson, Udo Kier, Temuera Morrison, Victoria Rowell, Steve Railsback, and Clint Howard.

Set in 2017 America (Oh my gosh, this year!), we learn through the Star Wars-esque crawl that the nation is embroiled in the second civil war, with a fascist government (called the Congressional Directorate and lead by Steve Railsback) poisoning it’s citizens in it’s pursuit for more power, and using martial law. Because it’s the future, retina scanning is the prevalent way to identify residents (and refugees), so contact lenses, to elude the authorities, are all the rage. Employed properly (presumably with the right amount of saline solution), they can be used to escape to the paradise of Canada. Anderson stars as the owner of a bar, who doesn’t want to stick her breasts neck out for no one. Dressing as an S and M escort, she runs the bar and tries her best to not get involved in the politics of the day, while picking up side jobs performing espionage like acts. The resistance (Temuera Morrison and Victoria Rowell) appeals to Anderson to help them instead of just taking the money and running (in slow motion). Will she spend less time having (strategically placed) bubble baths to do the right thing?

For all of those who thought Casablanca wasn’t burlesque enough, Barb Wire is a godsend. Unlike the flat chested and unable to be a chameleon hack, Humphrey Bogart, Anderson here is a master of disguise. First, she imitates a stripper, wowing the crowd with a upside down water show before taking her target. Later, she makes a convincing prostitute, while proving that she can talk low and breathlessly with the best of them, a pouting patina of silicone and leather. Barb Wire is so weird in it’s juvenile adolescent boy masturbatory fantasy that it’s only viable currency is Canadian money. The very embodiment of female oppression, we see a corseted and barely clothed female population here strut around piggish businessmen and human practice targets, who bristle when being called, “babe”. As a film, this is deplorable, convoluted and hacky stuff that showcases just how limited Anderson is, and often feels like a glorified Playboy television commercial (including the painful transitions between scenes). However, as a precautionary tale of a possible future (2017) that is occurring as I write this, it sometimes rings true. We watch our neighbours to the south, with a celebrity distraction obfuscating over an increasingly dysfunctional republic that claims to be a free country, and the xenophobia and tribalism continues to escalate and rot the core of a nation. “Wire”’s ridiculous but dystopian future is only the tip of that lousy iceberg. Unlike barbed wire tattoos, democracy and healthy resistance never gets old.

2.5/5

Trailer: Click Here.