The 10 Best Movies About Buff Women Ranked (Including Love Lies Bleeding)

As /Film's resident wrestling obsessive, I've written quite a bit about how sports entertainment is a formative piece of how I process the media I consume, as well as waxing poetic about my appreciation for the Adonis and Venus mortals that walk amongst us on shows like "American Gladiator." I'm of the mindset that if a person must self-proclaim they are an expert, chances are, they are not. So while I will not claim to be an expert, I will say that my knowledge of cinema featuring pumped-up women and brawny babes is, uh, stronger than most.

Sure, there are plenty of films that feature swole ladies for a one-off visual gag or a background character, but there aren't many films that allow women who are jacked to the gills to take center stage. Sometimes, the films are specifically about these towering muscle mommies, and sometimes they're just action films that aren't afraid to give literal strong women the same chance to kickstart an acting career typically afforded to male bodybuilders and professional wrestlers.

It's important to note that, for the sake of this list, I'm specifically looking for women with muscles beyond the "still aesthetically pleasing to men in a superhero bodysuit" or "white tank top in a horror movie so she's got toned arms" style of physique. I'm specifically highlighting films that showcase women who have gotten to a size that demands all who look upon them to tremble in awe — because it's high time someone did, and I am enthusiastically ready and willing to preach the gargantuan gospel. Here are the 10 best movies about buff women, ranked.

Bodybuilding had a huge moment in the 1980s, but female bodybuilding was (and continues to be) somewhat of an oddity. In this 1984 made-for-TV movie, a young actor struggling with her self-esteem about her weight (despite not being fat at all) takes up bodybuilding and quickly falls in love with the sport. All it takes is seeing one photo of Lisa Lyons, and she's suddenly found her new calling. The film is a schlocky fest of cheese with a hammered-home moral message about negative body image. Still, it ultimately ends up being a showcase for professional bodybuilders to look huge and hot.

Alexandra Paul takes on the leading role as Kendall Gibley, and despite her newfound obsession with pumping iron, she looks like a "Baywatch" model throughout the runtime — which is why this film is as low on the list as it is. Her body doesn't change, but the film certainly tries to gaslight us into thinking it has, which is pretty hilarious all things considered. The story is paper thin and the runtime is padded out with plenty of montages, but at its core, there's a lot of great messaging about the way society feels entitled to comment on women's bodies at every turn and the double standard the patriarchy enforces regarding size. The climax takes place at a bodybuilding competition and it's a delight to see so many incredible women embraced for their tireless dedication to their craft.

"Welcome to hell week, girls. It's time to die."

Don't get too excited by the title; despite sounding like the greatest low-budget horror movie you've ever seen, this is a borderline softcore movie all about the glamorous world of women's wrestling in the 1980s. Directed by the husband and wife duo of exploitation mavens Beverly and Ferd Sebastian, the story follows a woman named Lisa, who trains to be a professional wrestler like her infamous grandfather, Killer Kane (who once killed an opponent in the ring). Not only does she have to run the ropes and learn her way around the squared circle, but she gets into some trouble after seducing the show manager in an attempt to face off against the star of the promotion, Magnificent Mimi.

Training montages, slo-mo action shots, hair teased to the high heavens, and a whole lot of thonged butt cheeks are the focus of this absurdity, yet the big match at the end of the film is unafraid to let these women be tough as hell. If you're looking to fill the void left behind by the painful premature cancelation of "GLOW" on Netflix ... this certainly will not give you rich storytelling or character development, but you will get buff women looking cool and humbling each other in the ring in neon spandex.

Legendary low-budget science-fiction director Albert Pyun is the only filmmaker in history to develop a live-action franchise centered around a lead actor with biceps so large she could crush an apple in the cubital fossa just by flexing. His post-apocalyptic cyberpunk action series of "Nemesis" films tells the story of Alex Rain, a cybernetically-enhanced, ex-counterterrorism operative tasked by his former employers with assassinating his ex-girlfriend (who now leads an underground militant group of radicals). Sure, that just sounds like a weird rip on the "Terminator" films, but things get more interesting in the sequels, which jump forward in time and see Alex Rain becoming a new character named Alex Sinclair (played by bodybuilder Sue Price).

If that wasn't cool enough, her character is hunted by a mysterious cyborg bounty hunter named Nebula, played by none other than "John Wick" creator Chad Stahelski. If only one film on this list could be highlighted, it would be "Nemesis 4: Death Angel," where Price's Alex is so buff she looks like she could crush the guns she holds in her bare hands. These movies are absolute nonsense from start to finish, but Sue Price is a superstar of strength and makes most Hollywood action heroes look like twerps.

The gimmick of "Double Impact" is that action star and martial artist Jean-Claude Van Damme is cast in dual roles as twin brothers who work together to avenge the death of their father by kicking ass — but six-time Ms. Olympia winner Corinna Everson as Kara is why this film deserves a shout out. Kara fulfills two problematic tropes in one, as both a masculinized woman henchman and a predatory lesbian. One would think that she would be the gayest part of this film, but it's actually JCVD who somehow brings twincest vibes to the story with how weirdly homoerotic he plays off of himself when acting alongside ... himself. Still, Everson is an all-time great villainess, and JCVD plays to her (literal) strengths) and has no problem letting her throw him around a bit.

During the film's climax, she attempts to crush JCVD's head with her thighs, slices him with a Balisong, almost rips his testicles off with her bare hands, recovers from a BRUTAL haymaker like a champ, and only loses the fight because the movie requires it and she's double teamed by the brothers JCVD. Everson has played other buff baddies in films like "Ballistic" and "Tarzan: The Epic Adventures," but "Double Impact" is her finest (albeit most problematic) hour.

As with "Getting Physical" and "Aces: Iron Eagle III," bodybuilding champion Rachel McLish takes the lead in the Albert Pyun (yes, again!) film "Raven Hawk." The film centers on an Indigenous woman who is forced to flee her tribe's reservation after she's framed for the murder of her parents. After years of training and becoming an absolute unit, she returns to avenge her parents and get revenge on the real killers. Know going into this that the Indigenous depictions are laughably offensive, but McLish's Rhyia Shadowfeather is an undeniable badass. She withstands being shot, stabbed, fighting with a speedboat, clinging to the side of a cliff with just her bare hands, and being dragged by a horse, only to survive and kill the crap out of a bunch of murderous white men.

She doesn't speak much in the film, but she doesn't need to. Her actions do all the talking here. As this was made for TV, the over-the-top violence and excessive skin aren't as on display here as one would expect from a Pyun film, yet it ends with an epilogue about the systemic displacement of Native Americans and the abuses of their land. So, at least we know that Pyun's heart was in the right place despite the weird appropriation of vision quests and other Indigenous practices and iconography. But McLish flexing and lit by campfire flames? Yeah, that's the good stuff.

Princess Bride? More like Princess BRUTE! If you thought I was going to ignore the fantastic contributions anime has made to promoting the glory of giant women, you were sorely mistaken. There have been countless muscle-bound women throughout anime history, but "Iron Virgin Jun" is the best and biggest. Pitched as a comedy about the laughable idea of a woman being so huge she can physically overpower any man that comes her way, the lead character of Jun Asuka became an unintentional hero for generations — a beautiful maiden with a massive stature as a result of her mother coming from a race of gigantic women.

The anime (and the manga series that inspired it) centers on Jun around her 18th birthday. Her family's tradition is that she must marry, but Jun doesn't want to marry someone unless she loves them. Her mother is furious about her decision and tries to get back at her by sending out a crew of violently horny henchmen to force her to marry, but Jun fights them all off one by one on her journey to find the love of her life. The manga is far more explicit than the anime, which takes a tame approach to the material without sacrificing her towering mountain of muscles. The animation is a little wonky at times, yet Jun's ability to take on entire teams of ninjas at once is the real reason to tune in.

Thanks to Ti West and Mia Goth's brilliant horror film of the same name, it's going to be a lot harder for people to find this already underseen French gem of a bodybuilder drama. "Pearl" stars professional bodybuilder Julia Föry as Léa Pearl, a woman training to compete for a prestigious title in the bodybuilding community. Coached by former bodybuilding star Al (Peter Mullan), Pearl could be the winning competitor that helps him gain credibility in the industry once again. However, their plans are thrown into disarray when Pearl's ex-husband shows up with their son Joseph in tow, a young child she has not seen in over four years. During a particularly great scene in a diner, her son asks if she's stronger or weaker than Spider-Man, and she smiles before telling him, "Stronger."

Föry is a bodybuilder first and an actor second, but delivers a performance as strong as her physical frame lifting weights. There is a palpable sense of astonishment in the way her body is presented throughout the film, a result of Elsa Amiel's keen directorial eye in her feature directing debut. What makes "Pearl" feel so unique is that in a landscape where these marvelous women are displayed with a wink to the camera or as a bit of camp spectacle, there is deep adoration for the characters in this film. At times, the film feels like it's prioritizing style over substance, but when the drama surrounding themes of femininity, gender roles, and the concept of "maternal instincts" take hold, "Pearl" is a heavyweight contender.

The 1977 docudrama "Pumping Iron" is mostly remembered for helping to boost the career of Arnold Schwarzenegger, but "Pumping Iron II: The Women" is a mostly forgotten sequel that preemptively highlights precisely why its stars would never reach the career heights as the men who came before them. As much as "Pumping Iron II" is a highlight reel of women's competitive bodybuilding, it's also an exploration of misogyny, rigid societal roles, and an inherently queer film in its discussions of gender presentation. "Raven Hawk" star Rachel McLish and the legendary Bev Francis are at the center of the Caesars World Cup competition, which was intentionally created for the film.

Rather than leer at the female subjects, "Pumping Iron II" is a proud display of beauty and physical prowess. I am legitimately obsessed with all of the women presented in this film, and forever in awe of their boldness when people question or judge their appearances. ("It's called bodybuilding. None of us were born this way, we're all making a new body," one of the competitors says to a judge questioning the "unnatural" look of her muscular frame.) There's plenty to love about "Pumping Iron," but "Pumping Iron II" is far more philosophical and timeless due to the inherent politicization of women bucking binary gender norms. It's also directly responsible for the multiple documentaries and TV episodes about the world of female bodybuilding produced since then.

Buff women come in many forms, and in the same way that many Olympic powerlifters and non-running track athletes do not resemble the chiseled bodybuilders that make up most of this list, neither do the buff women in the world of competitive arm wrestling in Maureen Bharoocha's "Golden Arm." Betsy Sodaro and Mary Holland lead this underdog sports comedy about a small-town baker named Melanie (Holland) who becomes an amateur arm wrestler after her longtime friend Danny (Sodaro) is injured before a huge competition. Mel is the straight man to Danny's out-of-control antics, but, as a thin woman, is also viewed as an outsider in this world ruled by plump powerhouses.

Mel is trained by an arm wrestling legend named "Big Sexy," as played by gay icon and patron saint of tall women everywhere, Dot-Marie Jones, in what is arguably some of the best training scenes ever set to screen. "Golden Arm" is a rowdy good time with an absurd sense of humor, a whole lot of heart, and a cast filled with undeniable charm. It plays out like every underdog sports movie you've ever seen, but if men are allowed to have 100s of films with the same plot, why can't hot fat babes who break each other's forearms for sport have one of their own? If you're not equal parts terrified and in love with Olivia Stambouliah's Brenda by the end of the film, I don't know if we can be friends.

I promise this isn't recency-bias talking — Rose Glass' sophomore feature "Love Lies Bleeding" is the greatest movie about buff women ever made. Starring Kirsten Stewart as gym owner Lou and Katy O'Brian as bodybuilder Jackie, "Love Lies Bleeding" is a gripping romantic thriller about two women in love suffocated by sweat, sand, and Lou's father's crime syndicate. /Film's Bill Bria called the film "a thrillingly grimy, seedy, Americana-and-fluid-soaked body-horror noir that's unabashedly queer and winningly deranged" in his review out of Sundance, noting that, "As with any noir worth its salt, 'Love Lies Bleeding' is about what's lurking beneath the surface; of these people's minds and bodies, certainly, but also what's literally buried deep in a crack in the Earth out in the desert."

O'Brian has a history of martial arts, athletics, and yes, bodybuilding, but has also well established herself as a formidable actor in "The Walking Dead," "Z Nation," "The Mandalorian," and "Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania." Real ones already know that Academy Award-nominated Stewart is one of the greatest actors currently working, but "Love Lies Bleeding" is O'Brian's coming out party as an indisputable force of nature. Even in its beyond-comprehension presentation of Jackie's muscle mass, the camera never becomes exploitative or lascivious. Instead, "Love Lies Bleeding" forces the audience to reckon with their preconceived notions about what makes a woman sexy or powerful — and revels in responses of both discomfort and exhilaration.