Movies
[BD Review] ‘Ms. 45’ Is An Angry and Defiant Genre Classic!
Abel Ferrara and writer Nicholas St. John’s first film, The Driller Killer, subverted the sexism found in most slasher flicks by offering a madman who targets derelicts rather than busty teens. In their 1981 follow-up they took on the rape-revenge film with their own feminist reading of the genre, Ms. 45 (aka Angel of Vengeance). The film follows the standard path in which a woman is raped, then turns inward, starts training for physical combat or gun play, and then exacts furious revenge. What separates Ms. 45 from the rest of the pack is how it depicts the consequences of a life devoted to vengeance. Rather than feel triumphant in the end like most rape-revenge films, Ms. 45 is more somber. That’s one of the reasons it’s such a crucial film in the genre.
The stunningly beautiful Zoe Tamerlis stars as a mute teenager named Thana (from the Greek word for “death”). She works as a seamstress in Manhattan’s garment district and one day on her way home from work, she’s assaulted not once but twice (Ferrera himself plays a masked thug). The second time she manages to kill her assailant with an iron. She disposes of his corpse piece by piece in trash cans around town, but hangs onto the man’s .45.
Traumatized, Thana becomes more withdrawn at work as she constantly flashbacks to the event. She doesn’t want to be touched and is wary of people’s intentions. Because of her mute handicap, co-workers treat her like a child. Thana realizes that she has to survive on her own in this city, so she transforms herself into an avenging angel. She’s no longer a victim, she’s the hunter.
Deliberately venturing into dangerous places inhabited by male scum, Thana dishes out revenge one shell at a time. Street gangs, a manipulative photographer, a violent pimp – she intentionally encounters the swine. Thanks to Tamerlis’ incredible screen presence, Thana’s power over her victims isn’t her pistol. It’s her ability to destroy their sexuality and deny them their fantasies. And shoot them in the face, yeah.
As Thana’s warpath continues, she further withdraws from her everyday life. Her mission of revenge leads to unemployment and the loss of what female support she would’ve gotten from a group of co-workers. This aspect of the film, in which the allure and sensationalism of vengeance is wiped away, is what makes Ms. 45 transcend the rape-revenge genre. Typically, these films end on an epic victorious note (the amazing end of Savage Streets comes to mind), but Ms. 45 couldn’t end any different. And along the way, Thana destroys any chance of reclaiming a normal life – a feeling that many rape victims must share. The revenge may be absurd, but the psychology of Ms. 45 is more accurate than most films in the genre.
Tamerlis’ performance also helps elevate the film above standard genre fare. She begins the film a fragile, terrified woman. After her attack she’s traumatized. By the end of the film, she’s a stone-cold psycho. This diverse range of emotions is perfectly embodied by Tamerlis. Although she only speaks one word in the film, her thoughts are expressed by composer Joe Delia’s abrasive score. The music in Ms. 45 is fantastic and apparently Death Waltz is releasing the soundtrack sometime next year, so eyes peeled for that one. Tamerlis would go on to co-write and star in Ferrera’s Bad Lieutenant. She passed away from drug-related issues in 1999.
Ms. 45 is a bold and angry classic that defies the rape-revenge genre. And now, Drafthouse Films has remastered the film in HD and will be releasing it in theaters in mid-December, followed by a home video release.
Movies
‘Dante’ Review – A Paramedic’s Night Shift Turns Into A Blood-Soaked Nightmare [Tribeca 2026]
There’s something very special about horror stories that depict a single night that gets progressively out of hand and covers a lifetime of woe by the time the sun rises.
It’s a difficult balancing act, but one that’s magical when it’s properly executed, and this claustrophobic structure connects. Hugo Ruiz (One Night with Adela) rises to the challenge with Dante, a chaotic experience that’s pumping adrenaline, burning rubber, and snorting drugs from frame one and then rarely lets up. It feels like it starts in the middle of a film’s third act and then pushes itself to go to even more radical and exciting places.
Ruiz’s Dante is even more confident and accomplished than his freshman feature. It feels like a spaghetti western that’s trapped in a slaughterhouse. It’s Bringing Out the Dead by way of Quentin Tarantino after he’s come off a giallo binge session. It’s a white-knuckle, blood-soaked ride into hell that keeps its audience on edge until the credits roll.
Ruiz accomplishes something quite remarkable with Dante, a subversive take on Dante’s Inferno in which a paramedic ambulance driver, Eduardo (Chino Darin), gets embroiled in a vicious crime caper that pushes everyone involved closer to salvation. Dante, as its title suggests, isn’t exactly subtle with its allusions to Dante’s Inferno. That being said, none of the film’s efforts to match its source material’s themes and tone ever feels forced. It’s a bold, risky adaptation of the classic 14th-century epic poem, but it’s also a distinct film that stands on its own and becomes an incredibly satisfying sophomore entry in Ruiz’s career.
Eduardo innocently responds to a standard emergency call, only to find himself tending to a crime boss’s wounds and caught in the middle of a deadly feud between two erratic rival kingpins. Dante digs into an impossibly tense situation with a small cast of larger-than-life characters who really feel like they’re trapped in some layer of hell. Every minor victory is met with yet another physical trial and morality test for Eduardo to overcome. It also distills this harrowing encounter down to its most exciting elements so that Dante is a fast, easy watch that’s beautifully paced and always finds the right moment to heighten its mayhem.
There’s a shocking brutality here. It’s a visceral, gross, oozing horror film that’s often hard to look at. It’s a movie that lingers on not just pain, but how the human body can become such a disgusting mess. Ruiz lingers on gross visuals that reduce people to raw meat and emotion. However, this screaming, bloody mess is also an intimate chamber piece and character study. All this extreme subject matter serves a grander purpose and builds to a sweeping salvation rather than purely existing to be sensational. Dante is vicious, but it’s the film’s heart that stands out the most when everything is said and done.
Among the criminal capitulations is a deeper commentary on faith, passion, and identity. Eduardo is repeatedly confused for a doctor throughout, which is just one of several instances that reflect its themes regarding duality and labels. Eduardo’s wild night highlights life’s transactional nature and how everyone is the same in death. It’s the ultimate equalizer. Alternatively, Dante looks at the weird, unpredictable places in which people can find humanity, connection, and purpose in life, even if it’s surrounded by death and darkness. Everyone is looking for that spark and light that helps us heal.
In a film full of strong performances, Darin’s work as Eduardo is really spectacular. It’s a performance that’s so deceptively layered that it makes you want to immediately watch the film again as soon as it’s ended. Ruiz’s film is also really smart in response to when it digs deeper into Eduardo’s life and personality. It’s easy to picture Dante beginning with Eduardo carrying out several normal rounds to get a better sense of who he is before danger strikes with Mario. The film also excels as it asks the audience to make their own conclusions on this blank slate before the film begins to pull back the curtain on him.
Eduardo is a compelling moral compass throughout this dark night of the soul, albeit a character who is hardly infallible. Some of Dante’s strongest moments are when Eduardo’s mental state is unclear, and the audience is left to wonder if he’s actually getting a rush from this on some level. Eduardo is left to process many heightened emotions on his own. However, there’s also a real camaraderie between Eduardo and Mak (Ester Expósito) that’s genuinely sweet and progresses in a very natural, effortless manner. Their chemistry helps power the second half.
At one point, Eduardo muses that “a director must take risks.” This is a film that certainly adheres to its own advice.
Dante reaches a satisfying conclusion that feels like the natural endpoint of this story, only to then launch into such a wild turn that transforms the film into something considerably darker and a powerful meditation on the pervasiveness of pain and suffering. The ending guarantees that this is a movie that’s destined to be debated by both its lovers and haters.
There’s thankfully a lot more going on here so that Dante doesn’t live or die based on its ending alone. It’s just a brave step forward that reiterates why Hugo Ruiz is a filmmaker to look out for.
Dante made its world premiere at Tribeca 2026; release info TBD.
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