After a particularly bad night on the town that includes being dumped by her middle-aged and married lover and a couple of rapes (one actual, another attempted), bartender Shae is comforted by colleague Lu at work before the pair suffer a complete psychotic break and set about gleefully murdering those that have wronged them, from the unsympathetic cop to whom the violation was reported, to the rapist himself (and his friends) and even the decent date who did no wrong. It's hard to tell for which sex this grubby film is more demeaning, whether the heeled and hot-panted pair depicted as men-hating yet curiously still eroticised and objectified, or the men who're nothing more but misogynistic sexual predators. The absence of any shading which this film seems to proudly wear as a badge of distinction, swiftly rules it out as having anything remotely serious to say regarding the fertile ground of gender ethics. The eye-for-an-eye agenda that Girls Against Boys purports to endorse is undone in the way the revenge is depicted with as much savagery. Never mind I Spit On Your Grave, this bleak, nihilistic film spits over almost everything.