There’s a version of Stripped to Kill that could have been a sleazy throwaway — a Roger Corman assembly line product designed to move VHS units and nothing more. What co-writer/director Katt Shea made instead is something a fair bit stranger and more interesting: a sexploitation thriller with a genuine visual sensibility, a real curiosity about its subjects, and one of the more surprising twists in late-80s genre cinema. That 88 Films has brought it to Blu-Ray for the first time with a proper extras package feels entirely deserved.

The story goes that Shea lost a bet to her husband and writing partner Andy Ruben, which is how she ended up at a strip club for the first time. She arrived skeptical and left converted — not to the prurience of it, but to the artistry. The women on those poles, she decided, were performers in the fullest sense. That conviction shapes every frame of the film. Choreographer Ted Lin is a name that deserves mention here: the routines in Stripped to Kill have genuine invention and energy, shot by cinematographer John LeBlanc with a respect that’s rare for the genre.

The plot follows Detective Cody Sheehan (Kay Lenz) going deep undercover at the Rock Bottom dance club after a stripper named Angel is murdered on a bridge. Her partner Sergeant Heineman (Greg Evigan, DeepStar Six) provides backup and, of course, romantic complication. Mr. Roper himself, Norman Fell, shows up as the club’s owner Ray — a casting choice that lands somewhere between inspired and bewildering — and the film builds toward a twist involving that was controversial then and requires careful, context-aware handling now.

Lenz is genuinely good here. She was 34 during filming and nearly passed on the role until her research revealed how many of the real strippers she’d be working alongside had college-age kids. That detail recalibrated something for her, and it shows. While she would later be frustrated at the way the film was marketed, her Cody is credible as both cop and dancer, and Lenz doesn’t condescend to either half of the role. Evigan, of B.J. and the Bear fame, plays the straight-man effectively, it’s a role he became adept at during this period in film and television. Composer John O’Kennedy‘s electronic score pulses under everything, giving the film a late-night urgency that holds up.

The 88 Films package leans heavily on audio commentaries — four tracks in total, which is ambitious for an 88-minute film. The archival Katt Shea solo commentary is the essential listen: she covers getting Corman’s approval by essentially ambushing him on his way to lunch, the acting lessons she gave real club performers in her living room, and the intended color scheme for the film. The second archival track with Shea and Lenz has a looser, more personal quality — Lenz’s memories of filming in costumes designed by Trashy Lingerie are vivid and funny. The Hysteria Continues! track offers enthusiast context, and Dave Wain and Matty Budrewicz round out the commentary slate.

The video essay “The Contradiction” by Mike Foster and an 18-minute sit-down with Shea round out the disc. The O-ring VHS artwork packaging is a sharp collector’s touch, and Calum Waddell has providing writing for another well-researched booklet. This is Stripped to Kill treated as the significant footnote to 1980s genre filmmaking that it genuinely is — a debut feature that launched Katt Shea’s career, introduced pole dancing to mainstream cinema, and made Corman a great deal of money. Sometimes those things go together, and no one has to get hurt in the process.