Amanda Elizabeth Sawyer is Ana Sharp Claws, a white girl raised by Comanche, married to a handsome Indian brave, mother of a baby.
While most of the men at the ranch where she lives are off on a cattle drive, six scoundrels show up, fresh off a four-year stint in prison.
They’re looking for horses. They find trouble because one member of the party is recognized as a horse thief.
Several gunshots later, everyone living at the ranch except Ana is dead, including Ana’s husband and child.
And when she rushes to her husband’s defense with nothing but a knife, she’s caught, staked out and raped repeatedly by three of the men.
Billy “Trooper” Thomas is under orders to kill the girl when he’s finally finished. He wants to “keep her” instead.
That’s when an old frontiersman named Barfly shows up. He knocks Billy unconscious and frees the girl, taking her back to his camp to nurse her wounds.
He encourages her to flee. After all, the ruffians who raped her and killed her family probably want to make sure no witnesses are left alive.
Ana has another idea: Vengeance. Comanche style vengeance.
Okay, anyone who’s familiar with the “I Spit on Your Grave” franchise goes in knowing what to expect. Heck, I’ve never seen the original or any of the sequels, and I knew how this went.
So you’d better settle in for the camp value. And in spite of a limited budget — those scoundrels never do find horses because there simply aren’t any on this movie set — and in spite of some pretty poorly filmed action sequences, this does have a bit of campy appeal.
It reaches its campy zenith when Ana, clad in a tight black Comanche mini-dress, the blood of her victims smeared over her face, launches into a war dance, hopping around, hooping and raising a freshly taken scalp over her head.
Hey, at least she was fortunate enough to wear clothing during that scene. She sets out on her mission of vengeance stark naked because she doesn’t want her body encumbered by clothing borrowed from Barfly.
And this is one tough dame. Later in the film, she’s shot in the side. She winces. Then springs back into action.
Director Bob Cook has a bit part as Lou, one of the older men who live on the ranch. His character dies in the opening massacre.
Directed by:
Bob Cook
Cast:
Amanda Elizabeth Sawyer … Ana Sharp Claws
aka Lizbeth Sawyers
Robert Herrick … Maj. Jeb Sanders
Tony Venture — Chico Vasquez
Gregory Neff … Barfly
Tony Senzamici … Sgt. Sam Harris
Michael Newman … Billy “Trooper” Thomas
Lee Perkins … Jim Simmons
Kevin Brassard … Two Crow
Aaron Zoldan … Bart Wilson
Bob Cook … Lou
Carlos Guity … Abe
Debra Cassano … Maria
Patrick Ah-wong … Benny Longbow
Runtime: 92 min.
aka:
Scalped!
Injun
Memorable lines:
Ana Sharp Claws, sitting astride her husband: “Heap big brave.”
Two Crow: “Always!”
Major Sanders, to a ranch owner he’s just killed for recognizing his friend: “You should learn to forget a face.”
Chico: “I buried Bart by an old oak tree.”
Jim Simmons: “He would have liked that. His daddy was hung from an oak tree.”
Barfly, after rescuing Ana: “Now, normally, this is where I would throw you over shoulder and ride you to safety on my (mule) Daisy. But that’s a perfect world. And, unfortunately, I’m old and lame and that world has passed. Can you run?”
Ana Sharp Claws: “I’m going to kill them. All of them.”
Barfly: “Just like that?”
Louzanna: “No, not just like that. Slow. They’ll be a long time dying.”
Ana Sharp Claws, catching one of her rapists: “Surprised to see me, cowboy? Or just surprised to see me alive?”
Major Sanders, as his gang dwindles: “We just may have underestimated this woman.”
Ana Sharp Claws: “Stop. Hand me that wood.”
Billy Thomas, handing her a log: “We gonna need firewood, Miss Injun?”
Ana smacks him up aside the head with the piece of wood: “Don’t ask stupid questions.”
Major Sanders, after a fellow gang member has taken an arrow to the side: “Chico, you all right?”
Chico: “Si. But she is one pissed off, loco woman.”
Barfly, complaining to Ana Sharp Claws about her nighttime activities: “It’s hard to sleep at night when all you hear is, ‘God, I don’t want to die.'”
Mr. Cook: In the last scenes, I had flashbacks of the Mexican played by Frank Silvera, in Hombre (1967) with Paul Newman.
Good job on the script and screenplay!