Intrépidos Punks, MEXICAN MAD MAX

NICE VIOLENCE, HARD DRUGS, AND #SSC = SEXY SWINE SEX.

Throw in a couple of lesbian rapes and satanic rituals in the middle of the municipal cornfield, and you’ve got yourself an orgiastic ride through the Mexa interpretation of a punk universe—straight up what we could call the Mexican Mad Max. A gem—no, scratch that—a massive, juicy, delicious gem of what some posers are now calling «Mexican cursed cinema», or even worse, the term «psychotronic cinema» #getouttaherewiththatbullshit. But whatever.

Directed by Francisco Guerrero, an Argentinian dude who apparently loved Australian-style films full of high-speed ultraviolence. Too bad Mexico’s budgets were on the chicharrón taco from the street market level—because if he’d had the time and the money, this film WOULD HAVE been something truly legendary. This guy squeezed blood from a stone, and if you watch this movie with an eye for what could have been rather than just what it ended up being, you’ll see exactly what I mean.

THE PLOT, What’s it about?

The story revolves around the apocalyptic mayhem unleashed by a horde of so-called punk biker warlords who dominate the highway linking a couple of small towns on the way to Valle de Bravo (though, in reality, it’s heading towards Ixtapan de la Sal, in Tenango del Valle).

These punk fuckers, much like Anáhuac kids when they run out of Bacardi Blanco, spread terror and chaos among the simple-minded locals. We also see how, after the capture of the gang’s macho patriarchal leader, his alpha female (not my words—she literally calls herself that multiple times) moves heaven, hell, and even flexes her satanic powers in a bizarre cornfield ritual to rescue him from the corrupt authorities.

And that’s basically it—there’s no deeper plot. Apart from the satanic ritual and a few half-baked attempts at social commentary, this film is more of a performance piece depicting an orgy of destruction before the end of the world. (Watch it, and you’ll see I’m right.)

Protagonists of Overwhelming Sensuality

The leaders of the gang—who, just like the should-have-been father and mother of our national identity—are a luchador and a vedette:

• El Fantasma (Tarzán) – One of the most famous wrestlers in Mexa pancracio, a guy we definitely need to talk about at some point.
• La Princesa Lea (La Fiera) – Who, honestly, I could’ve sworn was Wanda Seux, one of the undisputed queens of vedette and later fichera cinema—a forgotten treasure of Mexican film history. (Wanda, not Princesa Lea—though, to be fair, she’s quite the character too.)

This Diva and Virginal Seed of Proto-Feminist Empowerment

This diva—this virginal seed of the empowered proto-feminism that, decades later, our AMLOver government chose to ignore—is a Canadian actress who started her career the right way: at El Blanquita, under the patronage of the manliest of men, the ultimate Mexican charro, VICENTE “SILK HANDS” FERNÁNDEZ.

She put on a comic-magic-musical show, where she would bathe naked in a giant champagne glass—which, let’s be real, is the height of elegance in a country where pulque was once considered a luxury. She swayed her profane and sinful-looking olives with a hypnotic grace.

A woman who, over the years, captivated the hearts of an entire generation of men, who dreamed of her and immortalized her on the walls of their workshops, butcher shops, poultry markets—and I’ve even spotted her in the confessionals of a few churches, because hey, dreaming is allowed.

In the Words of a Fearless Punk

One of the most fearless and iconic punks, or at the very least, the one with the best damn haircut, Tito Guillén, said in an interview for Milenio:

The Music—Not Punk, But Still Freaking Awesome

When it comes to the music, this film packs a raw and gritty soundtrack with a story to match. It features a banger by Three Souls in My Mind, led by Charlie Haupvoguel, one of the true pioneers of Mexican rock.

Don’t get it twisted—by this point, Alex “chale, qué onda con mi hija” Lora was already out of the band. He either left at the right time or just in time, depending on how you see it.

But for the sake of Mexican rock history, let’s set the record straight: Charlie is an idol, a legend for those who actually know their music. However, since you’re probably just some millennial simpleton, chances are you have no damn clue who he is.

Encore

But hold your horses, ‘cause there’s more—if you enjoyed this first part, you can’t miss the sequel. This time, in a full-blown revenge flick, the hero cop from the first film goes full vigilante mode, beating the living crap out of these fearless EcatePunks, one by one, with nothing but his fists and a baton—just like Bronson in Death Wish.

And yeah, we’ll eventually write about that movie too… if the drugs and the existential abyss don’t take us out first.