Once again, Mike Nelson, Kevin Murphy, and Bill Corbett return to riff a crappy movie, and boy, is this one a stinker! I would love to tell you what Wild Women of Wongo is about. I’d love to be able to go into precise detail about every story element and analyze it with the dry yet biting humor of John Cleese and the wisdom that only years of pretending to pay attention in film school while actually just checking out the chicks can bring.

But I can’t, because I am not Mr. Cleese, though I am fully capable of doing a silly walk. As for the film school thing, I’m an overachiever. I paid attention in class while checking out the chicks!

But the real reason I cannot do all of the above is simple. It’s because this movie eats!

Seriously, I have watched the film repeatedly and I have no clue whatsoever what’s happening, why it’s happening, or what the point of it all is. To ask a person to summarize this movie is to ask the impossible. Unfortunately, I volunteered for this, so I’m in it whether I like it or not.

As far as I can tell, the film is about two island dwelling tribes who are the subject of an experiment by Mother Nature. The tribes are the Goona, where the guys are GQ models and the women are the purest example of “pity fuck” material I have ever seen, and the Wongo, where the women range from ‘50s Hot to Butterface, and the men are average looking dweebs with blue hair that I hope to God is because of a bad print.

The battle between the sexes has never been more dull and unappealing. Well, unless you count “Spock’s Brain”.

“Papa, I see you’re feeling blue. Oh, it’s the hair! Sorry.”

A young man from Goona arrives on Wongo and warns of ape men who are threatening Goona, and possibly Wongo as well. The women are smitten with him, but the men decide to kill him. The attempt fails thanks to the women, and as a form of repentance, they’re sent off to appease the Alligator God they worship.

They meet with their high priestess, an alarmingly mannish gal who implores them to “Dance!” long after they’ve already started their dance.

“Dance!”

And then it’s off to meander in search of a plot. A long sequence ensues, featuring walking, a fight with a three foot long alligator, walking, tension between the main woman and some other chick which culminates in a fight on the beach, walking, an attack by the ape men, and, of course, more walking.

There are also intermittent shots of a parrot that the Film Crew guys take glee in slamming. By the end of this thing, Bill has turned against animals and pirates.

After an amusing geography sketch from the guys, it’s back to the boredom as the women return to their village to find the men gone. They travel to Goona, where the men are engaging in a rite of passage that apparently involves ignoring their women and skinny dipping.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

In all fairness, the women facing the camera are all the women on Goona, so it’s only natural the guys would be more into each other.

We get more walking, a meeting with the women of Goona, walking, a comic twist as the women of Wongo systematically capture the Goona men, walking, the Wongo men falling for the Goona women, walking, and finally the finale on Wongo, where the ugly people and attractive people are divided up accordingly. Well, as far as the filmmakers are concerned, at least. The movie ends here, but I would imagine there’s a whole lot more walking in store for both of these tribes in the future.

By the way, where were the Wild Women of Wongo? Because all I saw was a bunch of relatively animated women who couldn’t act for shit.

And yes, the film is just as boring and static as I have made it out to be. Even more so, since it was apparently intended to be a comedy. To give you an idea of how well that went, allow me to make this comparison.

Remember that Cavemen sitcom from a year or two ago? Well, if it had been done in the late ‘50s, it probably would have been very similar to this movie. I cannot find a worse thing to say about this film than that.

Thankfully, our heroic Film Crew trio is here to make things somewhat tolerable, though even they seem to get beaten down a bit by the sheer awfulness of this movie. There’s still fun to be had at the expense of the high priestess, who may or may not have a dick, and the men of Wongo, who apparently have David Schwimmer and Mr. Burns in their ranks, and the men of Goona, who provoke many gay jokes, and the Alligator God who’s represented by a very puny looking gator, and of course, that damn parrot.

But it’s rough going, because a very good case could be made that Wild Women of Wongo is one of the worst pieces of shit ever crapped out upon the world of cinema. Even the Film Crew guys can’t make it a truly worthwhile experience.

I’d say this is a definite rental, unless you’re feeling especially masochistic.

In closing, if you really want to see a movie about prehistoric women, try and track down Prehistoric Women. It’s shit, yes, but it has Martine Beswick, and that alone makes it worthwhile. And yes, I did just recommend you track down a cheesy Hammer film from 1967.

And before we go, always remember:

“Dance!”