Ex-Marine and Vietnam war veteran Johnny (Gary Kent) is hitch-hiking to Los Angeles, and is picked up by a middle aged policeman (Scott Brady) and his wife. They stop at a diner for a bite to eat, but their meal is interrupted by a group of raucous bikers, led by Anchor (Russ Tamblyn), who terrorise them, the owner (Kent Taylor) and the waitress Tracy (Jackie Taylor). It's not long before the bikers have murdered most of them, and Johnny and Tracy escape into the desert with the killers in hot pursuit...
This grotty exploitation favourite was written by producer/director Al Adamson and actor Greydon Clark. From the first scene, it makes its intentions known: we see a polite young couple enjoying each other's company, only to be interrupted by the leering bikers who beat up the man and rape the woman - and this is all before the opening credits. Yes, it's the old story of decent citizens versus the dregs of society, and it will be a violent fight to the finish for all of them.
The villains dress in denim, are adorned in tattoos and swastikas, and have names like Muscle and Acid. Tamblyn is at his sleaziest playing Anchor, a self-satisfied and giggling sociopath who lives for sex, drugs and violence (and maybe a dash of rock 'n' roll, too). The rest of his gang are no better, although the Native American Firewater (John 'Bud' Cardos) has a few shreds of humanity to mark him as a step above the likes of the LSD-obsessed Acid (Clark).
After the diner attack, the film begins to ramble as the bikers follow Johnny and Tracy (whose car has, predictably, broken down) into the desert. To keep the story going, the baddies stumble across three geology students who are camping in the area. These three ladies are victimised, notably in the scene where they are force-fed with stew (the depravity!), and then suffer the indignity of drinking coffee spiked with LSD, leading to an orgy - but don't get too excited, it happens at night and it's so dark you can't see anything.
Meanwhile, Johnny and Tracy nearly escape, attacking one biker with a rattlesnake (cue an incredibly protracted death scene), and leaving the others to fight amongst themselves before the inevitable showdown with Anchor. While all of this is poorly filmed, with far too many extreme closeups, it does have a certain vigour in its single-minded desire to shock and titillate. Adamson has a reputation of being a terrible director, but Satan's Sadists provides low-budget entertainment for thrill seekers, even if its ambitions are low. Listen for: Anchor's speech, where he justifies his actions, and Johnny lamenting that in Vietnam, at least he was paid to kill.
Prolific American director of chaotic exploitation movies, who directed some 30 films between 1961 and 1983. The titles of his films were often the best thing about them, but the likes of Satan's Sadists, Dracula vs Frankenstein and I Spit on your Corpse are popular amongst bad movie buffs. In a nasty end worthy of one of his films, Adamson was murdered in 1995, his body found buried under his freshly tiled bathroom.
