Almost everyone in this movie either gets naked or dies violently. Or both. In other words, it’s great. The unrestrained sleaze makes up for the clumsy filmmaking. The plot couldn’t be more simple. Somewhere in Spain, a swastika-sporting motorcycle gang in the city harass a slick character who’s out making the nightlife scene in a glistening sports car and with a hot date at his side. The gang pound his face in and rape the girl (director Paul Grau’s camera isn’t shy about getting up close and personal to the details) and then walk away giggling into the night, BUT GUESS WHAT? Our sports car slickster happens to know someone who runs a karate school. All it takes is a phone call and then a bunch of martial artists go find the gang, beat the hell out of them and treat the leader’s private parts like the butcher at Kroger treats a pork loin. They don’t kill the gang though, SO GUESS WHAT? The gang get revenge on Slick by killing everyone he knows. They never manage to kill Slick himself though, SO GUESS WHAT? Slick takes up arms and confronts the gang alone. The memorable ending doesn’t flinch.