There's nothing quite like the rot-gut jolt one gets from the no-frills Americana of a regional rarity. And there's nothing quite like a the raw insanity awaiting you in The Night of the Cat, a shot-in-Charlotte, North Carolina, celluloid catastrophe about a woman who becomes an avenging "catwoman" and takes on the mob. With bare titties, godawful acting, hilariously lame "action," and joyously unconvincing fight scenes, it's not only a breath-taking wonder from beginning to end, but so utterly simplistic that you'll need to take notes to follow it.

"Believe it or not, when he sees a cat, he goes right up the wall," says reporter Tom Whitfield about crime boss Mr. Demmons. "He breaks out in a cold sweat at the very appearance of a cat! I have even seen him pas out once when a cat simply ran across his path!" True. Demmons - who looks more like the president of a bowling league than a gangster - is at his backyard pool when he freaks out and screams at the sight of a kitten - yes, a kitten - until a big fat gender-blurred guy named Doug quickly...uh...disposes of the kitty.

When he's not screaming at puddy tats, Demmons owns a local topless bar - where MORGANNA, "The Wild One," performs in a bit of bare-breasted go-go footage that was obviously shot for another film. He also runs a prostitution racket in which innocent girls are kidnapped, taken to a secret clinic, and given drugs. "Hopelessly addicted," the girls pay for the drugs by becoming ho's. All of which reporter Tom explains to timid blonde Beth, whose sister was murdered by Demmons' goons. Unfortunately, before Tom can be of more help to her, he's drowned in his bathtub by the above-mentioned fat guy.

So Beth does what any woman would do under the same circumstances: she takes a lesson in kung fu, puts on a long black wig, and becomes a knife-wielding crime fighter. Apparently. There's really no emphasis put on her transformation. She just shows up in Emma-Peel-like black outfit with Demmon's thugs letting us know she's the "cat" of the title: "Kitty kat, you don't look vicious to me." Even more amazing, with sublime I-Love-Lucy-logic, no one - not even the detective investigating the case - recognizes her with the wig on! Wow. And, single-handedly, Beth wipes the bad guys off the face of the earth even though she seems to lack the most perfunctory of fighting skills, Best moment: Beth and detective Bob are in an apartment when they hear someone trying to break in. As they dive for cover, they turn off the lights after the director helpfully reminds them by shouting "Lights!"

God bless America. Theatrically released by Dominant Pictures in 1973, The Night of the Cat probably never played outside the South - or, more likely, never outside the Carolinas. It is, of course, the kind of ultra-obscurity Something Weird is only too happy to throw at a world that doesn't want it.