Funny how a largely unsuccessful film can still spawn a trend, isn't it? I mean honestly, how many films – new releases and reissues alike – have been proclaimed "Grindhouse" by their creators and distributors despite the lackluster box-office performance of Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino's eponymous effort? It's doubly unfortunate that so many of said films fail to deliver the grimy goods, but Mike Pecci's new Grindhouse style collaboration with the Suicide Girls is a happy exception.
Clocking in at a lean, mean nineteen minutes, Cold Hard Cash unfolds thusly: Suicide Girl meets Suicide Girl, Suicide Girls run afoul of mobster who gives Suicide Girls a chance to redeem themselves by collecting a debt for him, Suicide Girls collect said debt, go home, have hot, passionate, rough, tongue intensive sex, decide to double cross/beat the crap out of/mutilate each other, then attempt to kill each other. Oh, and one other thing: BOOBIES! BOOBIES EVERYWHERE! Big bouncy ones, li'l wee perky ones, and all points in between! The Occasional vagina, even! (Okay, maybe you're right, officer – I need some quiet time now.) – JWB RUE MORGUE MAGAZINE 2008