Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death
Alright fellow tapeheads, pull up a beanbag chair and adjust the tracking. Tonight, we're digging deep into the bargain bin of memory for a title that practically leapt off the video store shelf and slapped you with its sheer, unadulterated absurdity: Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death (1989). Just saying it out loud feels like uncovering a forgotten relic, doesn’t it? This isn't your slick blockbuster fare; this is pure, uncut, glorious B-movie magic, the kind of discovery that made late-night VHS hunting such a thrill.
### Welcome to the Jungle (We Got Fun and Avocados)
The premise alone is worth the rental fee (remember those?). The U.S. government desperately needs access to the nation's prime avocado-growing land, located deep within the forbidding "Avocado Jungle." The problem? It's inhabited by the Piranha Women, a tribe of radical feminist cannibals (who, naturally, only eat men). Enter Dr. Margo Hunt (Shannon Tweed), a determined feminist studies professor from a local university, tasked with venturing into the jungle to persuade the Piranha Women to relocate. Because obviously, academic negotiation is the first step when dealing with man-eating warriors.
Accompanying her are the hilariously dim-witted student Bunny (Karen Mistal, radiating pure 80s valley girl energy) and the swaggering, relentlessly chauvinistic guide-for-hire, Jim (Bill Maher). Yes, that Bill Maher, years before his HBO pulpit, playing every cringe-worthy male stereotype imaginable with a certain smug charm that’s both amusing and slightly alarming in retrospect. Seeing him wield a machete and spout lines about "chicks" is a time capsule moment all its own.
### Low-Budget Lunacy, High-Concept Hilarity
Let's be clear: this isn't Apocalypse Now (though it lightly spoofs it), nor is it Raiders of the Lost Ark. This is a film operating on pocket change and sheer nerve. Directed and written by J. F. Lawton, Cannibal Women embraces its limitations with gusto. The fearsome Avocado Jungle? It looks suspiciously like a very pleasant public park, reportedly filmed largely in and around Riverside, California. The Piranha Women's costumes seem assembled from leftover craft supplies and swimwear catalogues. There are no grand practical effects showcases here in the vein of exploding squibs or massive car wrecks; the spectacle is the low-budget resourcefulness, the commitment to the ridiculous concept itself.
And speaking of J. F. Lawton, here’s a truly mind-bending retro fun fact: just one year after unleashing Cannibal Women onto unsuspecting video shelves, Lawton penned the screenplay for... Pretty Woman (1990). The journey from feminist cannibals battling Bill Maher in a California park to Julia Roberts and Richard Gere on Rodeo Drive is one of those only-in-Hollywood trajectories that makes you grin. Lawton also later wrote the Steven Seagal classic Under Siege (1992), proving he certainly had a knack for crafting crowd-pleasers across wildly different genres. Knowing the writer’s future success adds a fascinating layer to watching this early, scrappy, and utterly bonkers effort.
### Satire with a Side of Silliness
Beneath the cheap loincloths and avocado jokes, Cannibal Women is clearly aiming for satire. It pokes fun at adventure movie tropes, academic pretension, radical feminism (as perceived through a decidedly 80s male lens, it must be said), and rampant chauvinism. Shannon Tweed, a familiar face for anyone browsing the late-night cable or video store aisles back then, plays Dr. Hunt with admirable seriousness, grounding the absurdity just enough. Maher, as mentioned, leans hard into the obnoxious guide role, serving as the primary target for the film's feminist (and cannibalistic) wrath. Karen Mistal's Bunny provides the ditzy comic relief, often more effectively than the main plot machinations.
Does the satire always land? Not exactly. It's broad, occasionally clumsy, and very much a product of its time. Some jokes feel dated, others were probably never that sharp to begin with. But the film's sheer commitment to its own ludicrousness carries it through. It knows it's silly, and it invites you to laugh along with it, not necessarily at it (though sometimes that happens too, and it's okay). It’s the kind of film where the title promises exactly what you get, no more, no less.
### The Verdict from the Video Vault
Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death wasn't destined for Oscar glory or critical acclaim upon its release. It was prime direct-to-video fodder, the kind of movie you rented based entirely on the outrageous title and lurid cover art. It found its audience among cult movie fans and those looking for goofy, low-budget laughs. It’s a time capsule of late-80s B-movie aesthetics, questionable gender politics played for laughs, and the bizarre early credits of future Hollywood players. I distinctly remember seeing this box on the shelf and thinking, "There's no way this can be real," which, of course, meant I had to rent it eventually.
Is it high art? Absolutely not. Is it technically brilliant? Far from it. But is it memorable? Undeniably. It’s a film powered by a high-concept title and executed with zero budget but maximum audacity.
Rating: 5/10
Justification: It hits the exact middle ground. It's not incompetently made, fulfilling its B-movie parody goals with tongue firmly in cheek. The performances are game, especially considering the material. However, the low budget is extremely apparent, and the humor is wildly hit-or-miss by today's standards. It earns points for its sheer unforgettable title, its place as a cult oddity, and the fascinating trivia surrounding its writer. Loses points for dated gags and looking cheaper than a clearance bin lei.
Final Thought: A gloriously goofy relic from the VHS jungle, proving that sometimes all you needed was a killer title, a future talk show host, and a whole lot of avocados to make B-movie history. Approach with irony, leave your expectations at the door, and you might just find some laughs among the foliage.