It’s a motorcycle gang movie. It’s a rural moonshiner hixploitation movie. It’s a giant mess in the editing room. This low-budget sweat rag of a film is slipshod and barely holds together, in true drive-in style. All that really matters is that the violence and blazing political incorrectness of the motorcycle genre come through—and this brings it. This film guns down old ladies in cold blood and throws around rape as casually as I might throw on a nice Jackie Gleason instrumental record in the background of wine and conversation at my place. That’s part of the appeal of biker movies. They’re crass and ugly and wrong and most of the memorable ones couldn’t be made today. In this one, three creeps on motorcycles roam a rural area doing whatever to whomever they want. Along the way, they get mixed up with three sexy lady whiskey bootleggers who are under covert investigation by the feds. The result: a hostage situation, plenty of gunplay, one death by mountain lion and lots of confusing cutting. The cast is full of actors who spent much of their screen careers on motorcycles in other films, or, in Jody McCrea’s case, on the beach with Frankie and Annette. Look for Casey Kasem as the federal man with Jack Lord-level hair and menacing character-actor Jack Starrett as the sheriff.
All over the internet, the release year for this film is noted as either 1966 or 1970. My best guess is that it’s actually somewhere in the middle. It feels too much like a post-Wild Angels release for ’66 and the lack of nudity (in the cut that I saw, at least) makes me want to go earlier than ’70. My guesses are usually wrong, though.