As we gathered in my living room last night over homemade guacamole and glasses of wine, I read off the names of the other movies we had as options, and when I came to Vixen, cries of "We've gotta watch this one!" came with the mention of Meyer's name. I had never heard of the guy before, but I was soon to find out his reputation after a unanimous vote for the night's feature presentation.
If you're like I was and have no real idea of what to expect going in, this movie comes at you like a curveball out of left field, and a mixed metaphor is about the only thing that can prepare you for it.
First we are introduced to the husband, a small plane pilot, and then to his wife, who is galavanting through the Canadian wilderness with a guy we later discover is a Mountie. (Don't make me say it - you know what they did.) There really isn't a plot to speak of, just several scenes which devolve into softcore sexual fantasies. Each time one of my friends arrived late I felt it necessary to answer the door by saying, "I have to warn you about what you're walking into."
With each off-the-wall music cue and hilarious cut I realized that watching this movie was more about the friends crammed into my tiny living room than the unrealistic actors on the screen. This was what B-movie night was supposed to be about: joining together and making fun of absurd films, even as... wait... aren't they... isn't that... her brother!?!?
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