Okay, fellow tapeheads, let’s rewind to 1995. Picture this: cruising the aisles of Blockbuster (or your local equivalent, RIP), the scent of plastic cases and worn carpet in the air. Your eyes land on a VHS cover unlike anything else in the Action section. Maybe it’s the sneering punk heroine, the giant tank, or the kangaroo-man looming nearby. Whatever it was, Tank Girl screamed "RENT ME" with the subtlety of a dropped bomb. And popping that tape in? Whoa. It was like mainlining a pixie stick cocktail mixed with gasoline and glitter – a chaotic, defiant blast of mid-90s weirdness that felt beamed directly from another, much stranger, dimension.
This wasn't your standard post-apocalyptic fare. Based on the cult British comic strip by Alan Martin and Jamie Hewlett (yes, that Jamie Hewlett, who would later co-create Gorillaz), Tank Girl ditched dusty solemnity for anarchic punk energy. In a drought-stricken 2033 Australia (though filmed mostly in Arizona and New Mexico), the villainous Water & Power corporation, led by the delightfully scenery-chewing Malcolm McDowell as Kesslee, controls the planet's most precious resource. Our middle finger to this corporate oppression? Rebecca Buck, aka Tank Girl, played with manic, infectious glee by Lori Petty. She's loud, lewd, and lives in – you guessed it – a heavily modified M5A1 Stuart tank.
### Anarchy in the Outback
Director Rachel Talalay, who cut her teeth on horror sequels like Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare (1991), clearly embraced the source material's chaotic spirit. The film careens from live-action absurdity to animated sequences mirroring Hewlett's distinctive art style, held together by sheer attitude rather than narrative coherence. Let's be honest, the plot is thinner than Kesslee's patience, involving Tank Girl's capture, escape, alliance with mutant kangaroo-human hybrids called Rippers, and quest for revenge/water liberation alongside the initially timid Jet Girl (a very young Naomi Watts in one of her earliest major roles).
But plot isn't really the point here. Tank Girl is a vibe, an aesthetic explosion. The costume design by Arianne Phillips is a riot of punk-rock DIY fabulousness, the soundtrack curated by Courtney Love pulsates with 90s alternative anthems (Bush, Hole, Björk, L7 – pure grunge bliss!), and the whole thing feels gloriously unhinged. It reportedly cost around $25 million, a decent chunk for the time, but sadly tanked at the box office, barely making back its budget domestically. Critics were largely baffled, audiences stayed away, and it seemed destined for obscurity.
### Real Grit, Real Grime, Real... Kangaroos?
What makes Tank Girl a quintessential VHS Heaven find, especially for action fans, is its gleeful embrace of practical mayhem. Forget sleek CGI; this is the era of tangible grit. The tank itself is a magnificent beast, rumbling through dusty landscapes with palpable weight. When things blow up, they really blow up – real fire, real debris. The action sequences are scrappy, messy, and feel grounded in a way that often gets lost today. Remember how tactile those explosions felt on a CRT screen, the way the bass rumble shook your cheap TV stand?
And then there are the Rippers. Brought to life by the legendary Stan Winston Studio (the wizards behind Terminator 2 and Jurassic Park), these genetically modified super-soldiers are fantastic examples of practical creature effects. Led by T-Saint, played with surprising cool by rapper Ice-T, the animatronic heads and detailed makeup give them a physical presence that’s both bizarre and strangely believable within the film’s heightened reality. Sure, they look like guys in elaborate suits (because they were guys in elaborate suits!), but there's an undeniable artistry and tangible weirdness that digital creations often struggle to replicate. Seeing Ice-T deliver lines from under that impressive prosthetic snout is pure 90s gold.
### A Troubled Tank Ride
The film's chaotic energy wasn't just onscreen. The production was notoriously difficult. Studio interference was rampant, leading to significant cuts and reshoots that reportedly diluted Talalay's original, even edgier vision. Lori Petty herself wasn't the first choice; rising British star Emily Lloyd was initially cast but allegedly fired early on, paving the way for Petty's iconic, hyperactive performance. You can almost feel the behind-the-scenes struggles bleeding onto the screen, adding another layer to the film's rebellious, anti-establishment vibe. Perhaps this internal conflict is why the narrative sometimes feels stitched together, but it also fuels its frantic, anything-goes momentum. Even the comic's creators weren't thrilled with the final product, feeling it strayed too far from their original intent.
### Does It Still Kick Ass?
Watching Tank Girl today is a fascinating experience. It’s undeniably dated in some respects – the pacing is erratic, the humor occasionally juvenile, and the plot logic requires significant suspension of disbelief. Yet, its defiant spirit, unique visual style, and Petty's fearless performance remain captivating. It feels like a movie made by rebels, for rebels, smuggled out of the studio system before anyone could entirely tame it. It bombed then, but found its tribe on home video, becoming a beloved cult classic precisely because it was too weird, too loud, too female-driven, too punk for the mainstream multiplex of 1995.
VHS Heaven Rating: 7/10
Justification: While the storytelling stumbles and the overall product feels compromised by studio tinkering, Tank Girl scores high on sheer audacity, unforgettable visuals (those Hewlett animations!), Petty's powerhouse energy, and its status as a truly unique 90s cult artifact. The practical effects, particularly the Rippers, are a nostalgic delight, and the soundtrack remains killer. It’s messy, but it’s a glorious mess.
Final Thought: Tank Girl is like that faded band t-shirt you refuse to throw out – maybe a little frayed, definitely showing its age, but still radiating a raw, unapologetic cool that perfectly captures the anarchic static of a well-loved VHS tape. Pop it in and crank the volume.