The 10th Victim (1965)

You might think the recoil action on a bra gun would shatter the breastplate, severely the singe the nipple, or at least cause you to stumble back slightly. But Ursula Andress seems supremely unfazed when bullets blast from her lingerie in the opening scene of Elio Petri’s transcendently ridiculous 1965 freakout The 10th Victim. She’s a contestant in a near-future hunter/prey “game” in which randomly selected opponents race to kill each other. Her tenth “victim,” the one that will retire her from the game and make her rich, is nihilist-opportunist Marcello Mastroianni, who matches her step for step. The 10th Victim is the ’60s sci-fi socialist sex comedy that Howard Hawks never made—there are enough mod-futuristic sight gags (sunset worshippers, jazz sax trios playing on cubes, Andress’ entire wardrobe) to fuel a hundred Austin Powers sequels.