The Bat Woman (1968) [La mujer murciélago] Review

Since it's día de los muertos I figured we should check out a Mexican production, one that's perfect for both horror movie fans and action film fans as well. The crazy and delirious Batwoman released in 1968 and directed by René Cardona. I first came across this picture years ago on facebook and I have been delving deeper into Mexican films ever since, so it's a classic in my book.

Mexican film company Calderón films, funded by Guillermo Calderón, was known for creating key genre fare in its home country such as the Aztec Mummy series and several wrestling films. Guillermo was approached by his wife, Guillermina Green, who suggested that he should make a wrestling movie with female stars. The idea was genius as it would satisfy all kinds of audiences. This kickstarted the wrestling women series that began with Doctor of Doom in 1963 and ended with The Wrestling Women vs the Killer Robot in 1969 (all of them also directed by René Cardona). Batwoman being among their very last few efforts in the microgenre.

The main role went to actress and model Maura Monti, who appeared in several other genre movies but she was mostly notable for her action roles in S.O.S Operation Bikini (1967), Planet of the Female Invaders (1966), Dangerous Dolls (1969) and With License to Kill (1969).

At first, Batwoman seems like a straight rip off of the 1960's Batman TV series but it has very little to do with it aside from some campy elements and the lighthearted tone, although, it was certainly done to cash in on the success of Batgirl in the Batman show. The same thing can be said for the MST3K icon The Wild World of Batwoman but that one goes for full on comedy. Instead, the Mexican Batwoman mostly follows in the tradition of the typical wrestling superhero movie of its time and place.

The plot involves a mad scientist named Dr. Eric Williams attempting to create a new race of supermen by extracting wrestler's spinal fluid and mixing it up with fish DNA. He sends his minions out to kidnap athletes because he needs his subjects to be in great physical shape but all of them end up dying. As the body count rises, the intrepid and skilled Batwoman is put on the case, helping police detectives to catch the bad guy. However, when the mad doctor realizes his plans could be foiled by the heroine, he attempts to kidnap Batwoman to test the experiment on her, as he claims the procedure might be more effective on females.

A wild ride from beginning to end, this kooky and delightfully entertaining flick is one that every cult movie fan should see at least once. It has all the cheesy fun of the more well-known luchador movies of its kind, but it's greatly elevated by Cardona's carefree and agile direction, with a fast pace and consistent surprises at every turn. Every part of the movie is meant to evoke that B-movie cheese fans love.

We have the powerful heroine, who seems to be good at just about everything, kicking butt at every opportunity she has. The Batwoman is introduced showing off her great gunslinging, scuba diving and lucha libre skills, her great sense of fashion positions her characterization as traditionally feminine but still more than capable at fighting crime. 

We could complain about her going around in a bikini for most of the picture, but there's one thing that fascinates me about it, and that is having a hyper feminine action lead in a wrestling superhero movie. You see, usually these movies present males battling enemies and asserting their masculinity by doing so. This movie asserts the main character's femininity and exalts the female body by putting her in the same position of empowerment, displaying her body to assert her feminine prowess. That's a very clever reconfiguration of the formula and can really only be done by showing her feminine attributes (in the same way male wrestlers show off their bodies too), so her bikini isnt as sexist as it might seem. 

I think the best moment that reaffirms this is when we have a dull scene with some male wrestlers talking casually, only for them to be interrupted by female screams, we then cut to the source: two female wrestlers (Batwoman being one of them) in a harsh training session. Tough femininity steals the show here.

We also see a schlocky but charming rubber suit monster that spices things up and serves as a more direct node to the comic book tone the film is going for. In fact, the overacting, the silly names (the mad doctor having a boat called Reptilicus is a highlight) and the dumb comedy are aspects that cement this campy feeling, one that it manages to achieve. Speaking of bad comedy, the last joke is quite sexist but this is a 1968 movie we are talking about, it's not a fully enlightened era regarding feminism in popular cinema (much less in Mexico), so we just have to appreciate what they got right.

There were no sequels but the film had a strong life among cult movie circles and it eventually became a favorite among fans of this sort of cinema, often being referenced and featured in websites, physical media releases and retrospectives. The Batwoman lives even after all these years.