Forget Charlie’s Angels! If you’re looking for stylish 70’s chicks kicking major ass, The Immoral Three is the real bra-less deal!
“They Love! They Kill! There’s Nothing They Wouldn’t Do!” screams the ad line for this alleged “sequel” to Double Agent 73. But if you haven’t seen the original, don’t fret — this film has nothing to do with it. Aside from the fact that she’s played by someone who bears no resemblance to Chesty Morgan, Double Agent 73, a.k.a. Jane Tournay, is strangled to death right after the opening credits. Once you’ve seen the introductory montage — see Jane sleep with men in Moscow and Munich, slip them mickeys, and stab them with pitchforks! — you’re completely caught up and ready to follow the adventures of her three daughters — Sandy, Ginny, and Nancy — as they attempt to avenge her death and collect their three million dollar inheritance.
But our heroines are not particularly vengeful. On her first trip out to find her mother’s killer, Ginny meets a young stud and proceeds to get so sloppy drunk that she not only spills her guts, she goes into an extended dance/strip tease in his living room! Luckily, the gentleman in question is not only friendly, but claims to know who killed Mom. Sadly, just as he’s about to announce the killer’s name, a hand comes out of the closet and slits his throat, forcing Ginny to quickly split.
After having sex with a stranger in an elevator, Ginny then goes on to confront another possible suspect in LasVegas, who helpfully tells her, “Your mother was nothing but a whore!” Incensed, Ginny throws a drink in his face and promptly falls out of her platform shoe. In the ensuing wrestling match, she manages to stab the man in the head with a goblet, and finally clock him with an ashtray. She tearfully calls Nancy, who soothes her by saying, “Well, we always knew that one of us would have to commit murder.” “Yes,” sobs Ginny, “but I’m not even sure it was the right guy”
Meanwhile, sister Sandy, who can’t be bothered tracking down the killer, sits around sucking provocatively on bananas and harassing the hired help. Nancy, on the other hand, changes into a variety of Diane Von Furstenberg knock-offs, wrestles a grabby ex-beau of her mother’s, and finally gets killed and strung up in the shower. ln the end, the words on Sandy’s rhinestone-studded belt buckle seem to sum it up nicely: “Oh Shit…’
The Immoral Three is another whacked job by director DORIS WISHMAN. Fans of Bad Girls Go to Hell and Another Day, Another Man will be glad to see the Wishman trademarks — bizarre camera angles, violent wrestling sequences, and plenty of lolling around in half-off negligees — are here in full force, and stylishly updated for the swingin’ 70’s with lurid color and judicious use of a fisheye lens. Surreal!