This is the movie that proves that a woman who has about seventeen poodles worth of hair on her head can walk around naked and go on a shooting rampage in the city just as well as Arnold Schwarzenegger can. She might even be better at it because somehow her Uzi never runs out of bullets even after nine straight hours of blowing away Indonesian police. To your average creep on the street, this film might seem like a low-budget Southeast Asian rip-off of The Terminator that copies the action of the 1984 James Cameron movie right down to the shoot-out in the nightclub, but us film scholars know better. We know that this is completely different because:
a) the Lady Terminator can shoot lasers out of her eyes (Arnold couldn’t do that)
b) the Lady Terminator has a magical little snake that lives in her private parts so that it can kill guys with mullets and hotel bellboys whom she effortlessly lures into spontaneous sex (Arnold, uh, definitely had nothing like that)
and c) the Lady Terminator is NOT a robot. Nope, she’s merely a well-built young anthropologist who gets possessed by an evil Indonesian killer sex demon as the result of an old curse.
So, that settles that.
Also, this film is one blood-splattered hoot. It’s a strong contender for the most bullet-riddled film of the 80s and a likely shoe-in for the most scenes where guys die in the middle of stuffin’ the muffin. The only reason this movie ever pauses its nearly non-stop action is for some great bad acting moments during scenes of awkward police banter and a quick pop song full of disco lights, drum machines and cocaine-caked synthesizer tones.