This is one of those movies thats an experience. The opening couldn't be more promising: a braless Linda Blair and her pals hanging out one night in Hollywood to the tune of the cheesiest 80's rock imaginable. All the sudden they start talking and the dialogue is beyond awful. It's like "Grease" gone awry, and this is more like rocky Horror picture show or that horror movie joan Crawford made than "Fast times" or something. You practially expect them to break into song. I would really like to remake this on Broadway, and I'd include some stuff from that roller skating movie Blair made a few years earlier. things are going along pretty well anyway with lots of bare breasts, including a chaotic shower scene, then it happens... the most disturbing rape scene I can rememebr featuring a barely pubescent looking Linnea Quigley. Now we are in a whole OTHER arena of wrongness. ( okay film geek paragraph rap up: Vice Squad, Todd Solondz, Fame, Fast Times, Avenging Angel )
"Savage Streets" is so insanely campy and unflichingly violent you have to respect it, while wondering if the director is some kind of escaped lunatic. I recently road my nephews go cart thing they found in the dump down a big hill and it felt kind of like this. Linda Blair has a great big Perm
