Given that its priority is to arrange its heroine -- Telegu “erotic” film star Silk Smitha -- into as many crotch-flaunting action poses as possible, Lady James Bond doesn’t have much time for exposition. Instead what we get is a montage of a bunch of stuff blowing up -- buildings, a toy helicopter, a train -- before going to a bunch of grave looking suits sitting around a conference table. These guys huff and puff for a bit before declaring that the only person for the job is “Lady James Bond”. And, yes, they really do call her “Lady James Bond” (“Lady” for short).
Toofan Rani, Indian dirty movies -- especially when compared to the sexploitation output of other nations’ film industries -- are not really all that dirty. Missing, for instance, are sex of either the simulated or actual variety, as is any kind of exposure of the naughty bits, both of which, I imagine, are deal breakers to those who come to it with plans for an evening’s self pleasuring. Indeed, if any of you came to this blog in hopes of reading about a movie that does feature those elements, I suggest you instead head over to my write-up of the movie where Isabel Sarli cradles her own boobs for 95% of her time on screen.
Jyothi Laxmi, also the star of a film called Lady James Bond, did a decade earlier. Still, it must be said that, while the action in Lady James Bond is plentiful, it is also somewhat repetitive, mainly, I think, due to the limitations placed upon Smitha by the need to rely so heavily on scissor kicks.
Haseena Atom Bomb, the suggestion that its intended male audience could be satisfied by such juvenile panty peeping speaks to a level of sexual benightedness that is almost as poignant as it is pathetic.