How Russ Meyer’s Wild Cinema Came to Save Our Sterile Screens

Russ Meyer’s Resurrection: Why Sexploitation Matters More Than Ever

In a time when sexuality in media feels increasingly sanitized, one filmmaker's raucous, rebellious body of work is staging an unexpected comeback. Russ Meyer — the king of cleavage and cult cinema — is re-emerging from the margins, thanks to a combination of restoration work and cultural hunger for something a little more... alive.

The Forgotten Flesh

Once relegated to midnight screenings and dusty VHS tapes, Meyer’s films were teetering on the edge of extinction. His estate, guarded by layers of red tape and legal ambiguity, left fans and distributors in a kind of limbo. For years, the vault of bawdy brilliance remained sealed — a time capsule of unapologetic indulgence no one could open.

Severin Steps In

Enter Severin Films, the indie distributor that specializes in salvaging cinema's strangest treasures. With painstaking care and a healthy respect for provocation, the team secured the rights and began restoring Meyer’s classics — not just as films, but as cultural artifacts.

Titles like Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! and Supervixens aren’t just erotic oddities. They’re fast-paced, ferociously feminist fever dreams. The women are bold. The satire bites. And the aesthetics? Pure pulp poetry.

A Culture Starved for Sensation

The resurgence couldn’t have come at a better time. As streaming algorithms homogenize entertainment and intimacy is reduced to innuendo, there's a growing appetite for cinema that actually stirs something. Meyer’s world — all technicolor skin, surreal satire, and swinging absurdity — offers an escape hatch from the sterile.

In an age that’s supposedly sex-positive, why do so many films feel so neutered? Meyer never feared the flesh. He celebrated it with humor, defiance, and a wink.

Legacy in High Definition

Severin's restorations are more than aesthetic upgrades — they’re resurrections. With commentary, features, and loving care, each release reminds us that art worth saving doesn’t always fit into polite boxes. Sometimes it wears leopard print and carries a switchblade.

The Takeaway

Russ Meyer didn’t just film sex; he filmed power in motion. His protagonists weren’t just busty — they were busting the patriarchy, one punch at a time. His films weren’t safe, weren’t subtle, and that’s exactly why they matter now.

In rediscovering Russ Meyer, we’re not just reviving a director. We’re reclaiming a wilder, freer, and weirder kind of cinema — one that refuses to apologize for wanting more.