Calling PussyCake (2021) a rock ‘n’ roll movie is a bit like calling Friday the 13th a movie about summer camp. It misses the point. PussyCake embodies the spirit of the music.
The horror movie—firmly entrenched in the grindhouse tradition—is the story of an all-female rock quartet: the titular PussyCake. And if you can’t guess from the name, it has a certain spirit of fun. This is, after all, a movie about a rock group being pursued by zombie-like infected.
The ladies in the band all have the last name “Cake,” much like the Ramones or the Donnas, which is more in keeping with the movie’s vibe. This includes vocalist Elle (Macarena Suárez), guitarist Juli (Sofia Rossi), bassist Sofi (Anahí Politi), and drummer Sara (Aldana Ruberto).
The film is set in an unnamed South American country, though it was shot on location in Argentina.
And though the dialogue is in Spanish, you still get to hear the crowd chanting “PussyCake” with accents after a PussyCake gig. Some things just can’t translate.
About that gig. That show, which occurs in the first ten minutes of the film, is the main thing making this a rock ‘n’ roll film. By the criteria settled on for Almost Famous, this is not a rock ‘n’ roll film. The band plays one song, and it’s not really that good. They have an overall visual vibe of Bikini Kill meets The Warning, but the glossy production and obvious lip-syncing kinda louse it up. This is probably not a song anyone will be seeking on Spotify.
So why watch?
Well, as we watch PussyCake travel to their next gig in an unnamed small town, they somehow seem like real short-time rock musicians rather than generic lambs to the slaughter. They snort drugs. They have romances that will likely derail their success. Their crappy van breaks down, leaving them stranded. They do more drugs. Up-and-coming rock bands, it turns out, really are the same worldwide.
It almost seems like a classic hangout movie, but sped up.
By the time we hit the next town, it’s time for the zombie/infected action. We got a taste of what was to come in the movie’s brief prologue, so we’re wired and ready.
There’s a local promoter spitting milky goo and wearing an Exploited shirt. There’s a Clash poster strategically positioned on the wall next to a PussyCake poster in the house the girls explore to solve the wafer-thin mystery of where the monsters are coming from.
And in a metaphorical sense? Well, the monsters are the men that surround PussyCake, from creepy fans to, um, vaguely defined other guys. While some of the women may become infected, the culprits are pretty clearly male. This also ties in with the reported experiences of many female musicians, including the Donnas. Unfortunately.
The costumes in the movie are eye-catching, including a couple of costumes that Lady Gaga might wear proudly, such as assless chaps. And the sound design also creates some uncomfortable moments, though the soundtrack itself is unfortunately an orchestral number. A few well-placed tunes could really amplify things and up the rock ‘n’ roll feel exponentially.
For anyone worried about horror, this is no Terrifier level of brutality. While it is a horror movie, it’s no worse than any 28 Days Later, etc., installment, and the low-budget effects make it much easier to watch. These infected even move quickly, much like the innovative-for-the-time zombies in 28 Days Later.
And in the end, perhaps that is the real value of the film in the rock ‘n’ roll canon. It feels like something that a director might have dreamed up for an MTV music video in 1983. The golden days of the art form, when no one had any idea, and you just threw a bunch of random cool shit in front of the camera. All style, all attitude, all image. Hell, if you fast forward to the end of the decade, the ladies of PussyCake could very well pass for a South American cousin of Vixen.
You aren’t learning about rock ‘n’ roll or thinking about rock ‘n’ roll. You’re feeling it, all the way to the blood-soaked third act.
One last word: don’t sleep on the post-credits scene, arguably the most rock ‘n’ roll moment of the whole thing.
#PussyCakeForever
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