I'm willing to bet that this little cult favorite film was once a favorite of billionaire redneck Ted Turner, who would later go on to use his mucho dinero to woo the fair Jane Fonda into becoming his bride. I can already imagine them in their big cotton plantation style home, in their master bedroom with Atlanta Braves banners and Confederate flags decorating the walls, as Ted sits under the sheets, full erection (which is put to shame by the can of vienna sausages thawing on the nightstand) as he anticipates the arrival of none other than Barbarella, the Queen of the Galaxy, as she struts from the bathroom in one of her many outrageous space chick outfits! Will it be the near-transparent, black plastic top? Perhaps she'll be wearing her big sasquatch coat? And more importantly, will she be wielding her "laser pistol"? Heh heh. Then, imagine how quickly Teddy's penis goes limper than a slice of thin cut bologna and retreats back into the afro of silver pubic hair adorning his pelvis, when he realizes that it's been a good 30+ years and the Queen of the Galaxy is starting to look like, well, an actual queen... and not the good kind. It wasn't long before Turner divorced Fonda and realized that he'd be spending the rest of his short-lived days simply watching the movie over and over again, just him and his trusty bottles of KY and arthritis cream... hey, he's getting old, he needs that extra little kick to the mix so he can actually FEEL something down there. Anyway, I know where Ted's coming from (no matter how much I hate him... though he pays me well to stay away, so he'll be around a while longer), and I could feel his pain and disappointment as I myself finally put my eyes to Barbarella: Queen Of The Galaxy.

It all looks pretty from the start, attempting to catch the attention of the audience members looking for some foxy lady action (i.e. hetero men, homo women and everybody who likes to dip their chips in both bowls), as our heroine Barbarella (infomercial fitness princess Jane Fonda) twirls and spins and flips through anti-gravity, butt nekkid except for a few unfortunately placed opening credits. Don't be discouraged by the 'PG' rating though kids, look hard enough and you're bound to find a couple nipple glances here and there. Don't thank me kids, just another helpful public service announcement from your pals at G.I. Joe! Because knowing is half the battle! Yo, Joe! Bah, damn nostalgia, occasionally possesses my soul and makes me do horrible things like quoting old cartoons. Here's a REAL safety tip for you kids out there: if I start saying shit like "By the Power of Greyskull!" or "Wonder Twin powers activate!" then I suggest you run as far away from your computer as possible, because once it starts, no mere mortal weapon can put it down... Back to our regularly scheduled program, this blonde bombshell in orbit is Barbarella, our titular heroine (emphasis on the 'tit') who also happens to be an agent of a galactic police force. That's right, not only can everyone travel through space freely (and decorate their crafts with an endless supply of shag carpeting and plastic tubing and blinking lights), but everyone lives together in peace and harmony like some big "Lost In Space" hippyfest love-in. But, this doesn't mean there isn't still evil lurking in the furthest recesses of deepest, darkest space, so we need a peacekeeping force to keep everything lovey-dovey... you can smell the "flower power" people, and it's making me ill.

Bar's latest mission is seek out the mad genius Duran-Duran (yes, this is where they got their name, for all you trivia lovin' brain farts out there) and put an end to his latest creation: a weapon that could bring about war, anger and envy to the universe once again, putting an end to the 24 hour Woodstock it's become... I mean the original Woodstock, not the shit tossing mayhem of Woodstock '94 or the rape and plundering of Woodstock '99. The first stop on Bar's search is an ice planet, where she finds a clan of cannibals children and winds up their prisoner. Before she can be devoured my their collection of razor-fanged playthings though, our ditzy but very hot protagonist is saved by a rather large beardo man in Wookie-wear and his cybernetic accomplice... and here I thought only pimps and drag queens wore that much fur. These two are a couple of mercenaries, who enjoy being paid for their work, which means Bar's gonna be paying up one way or the other, and she opts for "the other". Yes, when you get right down to it, Barbarella's a party girl, loose in the legs, the kind of woman you wouldn't take home to meet mom but you would take back to your place with a case of 40s. Cold Cock Malt Liquor, the malt liquor the ladies can't resist! After revealing himself to be just as hairy as the suit he wears, Mr. Fuzz Nuts takes his reward, bedding Bar in the old fashioned "barbaric" (and much more satisfying) school of lovin', introducing her to a world she'll be exploring much more before this exercise in softcore exploitation and mind numbing cheddar has run it's last reel.

After Chewbacca Von Beardo and his glorified toaster of a partner finish the ships repairs and give Bar a fancy fur coat made of intergalactic weasels, our heroine kinda paws at herself and heads off in search of Duran Squared once more. Her next stop finds her on another planet, where she's almost immediately knocked out thanx to a sudden rockslide. When she awakens, a blind man with angel wings who introduces himself as Pygar before carrying Bar to see his pal Professor Ping... and his wife, Professor Pong... sorry, mandatory movie reviewer bad pun law #387A.6: whenever the name "Ping" is used, it shalt always be followed by a bad joke involving the word "Pong". Hey, I'm Union, can't ignore the rules. Ping and Pygar reside in a strange and unholy realm known as The Labyrinth, where the planet's ruler, Evil Tyrant, exiles the good people to wander about like mindless zombies... and no, Evil Tyrant is not David Bowie... you know, because of the whole Labyrinth thing... law #621X.3... While minding her own business, Bar's attacked by a leather fetisher, whom Pygar defeats. To reward Pygar for his chivalrous act, Bar gives him the same thing she gave Mr. Sasquatch. That's right, the whole "Around The World" kids, and all for saving her from a cousin of one of the Village People. This quickie gives Py the self assurance to use his wings once again (I figured Bar was into protein shakes, always boosts a man's self-esteem) and he flies his new girlfriend to the city of Sogo.

In Sogo, the couple is accosted by some of the more unsavory citizens before escaping into "The Chamber Of Ultimate Solution". Think of it as "Let's Make A Deal!", only behind each door/curtain/box covered with question marks is a different method of the ultimate solution, also known as Death, also known as Me. Before either one has to choose their final destiny, they're rescued by order of the Great Tyrant, an eye-patch wearin' dyke who Bar ran into earlier.. I now hate the Great Tyrant. While the ladies spend a little private time together, Tyrant lets loose a little background on Sogo, such as it's location above a lake of living liquid energy known as the Mathmoss that feeds on evil thoughts and tendencies, hence why she booted out all the goody-goody saps. Tyrant intends to harness the Mathmoss's super negative powers, but before that she's gotta get rid of little miss good girl, locking her in a cage of big flesh hungry parakeets! Her aviary execution is interrupted however, by a group of underground (literally) revolutionaries who are attempting to dethrone the cycloptic bitch. After "thanking" the leader of the freedom fighters (damn, I never realized how big a slut Jane Fonda was!) , Barbarella agrees to join them in their siege, under the agreement that they force Tyrant to give up Duran Duran's whereabouts when they've got her in custody. And if these guys are anything like the NYPD, I see a plunger in the Tyrant's future... During the raid, Bar is captured by the queen's right hand minion, who straps her into his latest invention: an orgasm inducing harpsichord that's meant to destroy her with her own climax!

As with most men in this movie, the goon isn't prepared for the heroine's raging libido, which overloads the machine and frees her. The henchman is then revealed to be Duran x2, the very Duran Duran that Barbarella's been seeking all this time! Just like every other character in the flick though, he too intends to use Bar for his greater goal: to overthrow the one-eyed matriarch himself! The evil genius renigs on his side of the deal of course, trapping Bar and the Great Tyrant in a little place known as the Chamber Of Dreams... two chicks together in a place called The Chamber of Dreams? The fact that there's absolutely NO girl-on-girl here is a serious piece of false advertising! Completely helpless in the Chamber, the girls can only look on in mock horror as DD unleashes the powers of his evil device, the Positronic Ray, on the unsuspecting revolutionaries, whisking them away to the Fourth Dimension. Four more dimensions and they could have a Buckaroo Banzai cameo... Unwilling to lay down and play the bitch to anyone, the butch pulls one last ace from her eyepatch, releasing the monstrous Mathmoss which unleashes it's own destructive wave on DD and his oversized Phallic tool of devastation, taking out both with a bath of digestive juices. Before the beast can destroy the entire city, Bar and Tyrant escape, then locate Pygar and he carries them both to Barbarella's ship, to safety and end credits, oh those precious end credits! After 98 minutes and 7 changes of costume (you know it's a woman film when the heroine can't keep the same damn clothes on for an hour and a half!), it's about damn time, all this repetitive hippy shit was starting to scratch on my frontal lobe like talons on a blackboard! Think of the whole thing as a feminine version of Flash Gordon, lacking in plausible story elements and quality acting and special FX, but attempts to make up for it's lack of endowments with a heavy dosage of cheese. Come to think of it, it's just like that new fucking "Where's the cheese at?" pizza from Pizza Hut: to hide how deplorable the actual product is, the producers decide to just add more cheese and really wow the customers. The difference between "camp" and "cramp"? Flash Gordon is camp, Barbarella is cramp, as in a BIG cramp! We're talking about one of those cramps that wakes you up at 2:30 in the morning and makes you wish you could saw off your leg if it would just end the pain! Get the idea?

Though we all know the film is meant to be light-hearted and zany with a twist if sexual freedom and expression, this is somewhat ruined by the dinghy costumes and settings and the muddy quality of the film, giving it this all around dirty and perverse feeling that just doesn't blend. As for the people, well, we all know what Jane Fonda went on to do after Barbarella, and if you don't know and it's enough to keep you awake in the late hours of the night, covered in a cold sweat and on the verge of all out panic attack until you get the information you so desperately need on another person's personal life, then, well, feel free to type in "Jane+Fonda" on a search engine and see what comes up. If that doesn't work, try "I'm+such+an+ass+Please+shoot+me+now". Otherwise, John Phillip Law, who played Pygar, may be better known by MST3K fans for his work as the title character of Danger: Diabolik and Space Mutiny, and cinemasochist fans of Fred Olen Raye's "work" may also know him from Alienator, as opposed to the Bruno Mattei nightmare known as Alienators (A.K.A. Shocking Dark). He was also a part of the horror rock movie Night Train To Terror, but the only non-embarassing thing he probably ever did was as a voice on the Fox Kids now classic "Spider-Man" series, where he played the father of The Black Cat for two episodes... let's just say Mr. Phillip Law hasn't had an exactly "stellar" career and leave it at that, so as to save him any more embarrassment... what can I say, I'm feeling generous today. As for everyone else, there's not a lot they ever did that I care enough about to exert the energy to type them here. Finally, Frenchie director Roger Vadim died in February 2000 of cancer, after making a steady string of really French movies that I will never watch, even if you propped my eyelids open and tied me down Clockwork Orange style. He will go unmissed here in the Tomb, just as you all shall someday.

Sequels: Nope

If You Liked This Flick, Check Out: Flesh Gordon if you're looking for a sexual space farce that works, or Flash Gordon if you're looking for a campy adventure in the cosmos without the sex.