Alright fellow tapeheads, settle into that comfy armchair, maybe grab a Tab Cola if you can still find one. Tonight, we're dialing the tracking way back to 1987, popping in a tape that feels less like a single movie and more like a glorious, chaotic zap through the weirdest channels late-night cable had to offer. I’m talking about Amazon Women on the Moon, a flick that landed on video store shelves like a glorious, multi-director fever dream. You didn't just watch this movie; you surfed it.

This wasn't your standard Hollywood fare. Think of it as the spiritual, slightly less anarchic (but only slightly) cousin to 1977's Kentucky Fried Movie. In fact, it shares the same writing duo, Michael Barrie and Jim Mulholland, veterans who honed their comedic chops writing for Johnny Carson's Tonight Show. That pedigree explains the rapid-fire, sketch-based structure, bouncing between parodies, sight gags, and commercials for products you really wouldn't want.
The framing device, the titular "Amazon Women on the Moon," is a pitch-perfect spoof of those wonderfully earnest, unintentionally hilarious 1950s sci-fi B-movies. Directed primarily by Robert K. Weiss (who also produced), it features square-jawed astronauts, cheesy rocket effects, and dialogue drier than the lunar surface. Fun fact: Universal Pictures initially balked at the idea of shooting these segments in black and white, worried audiences wouldn't go for it! Imagine that. It forced Weiss and John Landis (one of the film's other key directors, known for Animal House (1978) and An American Werewolf in London (1981)) to chip in some of their own cash to get it done right. Thank goodness they did – the monochrome look is essential to the gag.

But the real meat, or perhaps the assorted cold cuts, of the film lies in the sketches sandwiched between the space adventure. It's a glorious grab-bag directed by a committee including Landis, Joe Dante (Gremlins, 1984), Carl Gottlieb (who wrote Jaws!), Peter Horton (yes, Gary from Thirtysomething!), and Weiss. This multi-headed approach means the tone whipsaws beautifully, mimicking that late-night channel-hopping feeling perfectly.
Like any sketch anthology, Amazon Women is gloriously uneven, but the hits? They're absolute gold. Who could forget Arsenio Hall's star-making turn in the "Pethouse Video" sketch, delivering a tour-de-force of bewildered reactions? Or the sheer, escalating discomfort of "Roast Your Loved One," featuring the irreplaceable Rip Taylor presiding over a funeral roast that goes spectacularly off the rails? That segment, helmed by Joe Dante, perfectly captures his talent for blending dark humour with absurdity.


Then there’s the genius "Bullshit or Not?" starring a deadpan Henry Silva exposing urban legends with hilariously mundane explanations. And the running gag featuring Griffin Dunne navigating a series of increasingly bizarre and painful hospital scenarios – pure Landis territory, mixing slapstick with a touch of genuine dread. Michelle Pfeiffer shows up looking luminous in the "Reckless Youth" parody, Steve Guttenberg dates himself (literally!), and even Carrie Fisher, post-Leia, makes an appearance. The sheer volume of familiar faces popping up for quick, often bizarre, bits is part of the fun – Rosanna Arquette, Ralph Bellamy, Ed Begley Jr., Sybil Danning... the list goes on. It felt like half of Hollywood dropped by the set for a laugh.
Watching it now, it's undeniably a creature of the 80s. The satire targets video dating, commercials, movie trailers, and the general ephemera of the era. Some jokes land harder than others today, but the overall energy – that slightly subversive, pushing-the-boundaries-of-good-taste vibe – remains infectious. It doesn't rely on complex CGI; the gags are practical, relying on performance, editing, and often, sheer audacity. Remember the "Son of the Invisible Man" sketch? It's a simple concept executed perfectly, finding humour in the mundane reality of invisibility.
The film didn't exactly set the box office on fire back in '87. It reportedly sat on the shelf for a bit before Universal finally released it, perhaps unsure how to market such a strange beast. This was peak VHS discovery territory – the kind of movie you’d grab based on the outlandish cover art or a recommendation from a friend who’d whisper, "You gotta see this weird movie!" It found its audience slowly, surely, becoming a beloved cult favourite passed around on worn-out tapes.

Justification: Amazon Women on the Moon is the definition of a mixed bag, but its highs are incredibly high, showcasing sharp satire and brilliant comedic performances. The multi-director approach leads to inconsistency, and some sketches haven't aged as well as others. However, its pitch-perfect parody of B-movies, the sheer volume of memorable moments, and its status as a quintessential piece of 80s cult sketch comedy earn it solid marks. It perfectly captures that feeling of discovering something wonderfully strange late at night on TV.
Final Thought: For sheer, unadulterated 80s sketch weirdness beamed directly from a parallel cable universe, Amazon Women on the Moon remains a channel worth tuning into, static and all.