The Gore Gore Girls

Aside from the familiar cinematographic style and manditory gore, this film exceeds the sophistication of any of Herschell Gordon Lewis's previous films by leaps and bounds. The gore effects are sicker and more unnecessarily blatant than ever, and are quite convincing even by today's special effects standards (how many contemporary horror films have the villain squeezing the contents of a REAL eyeball until the juice squirts in all directions, just for show?). Many of my friends, who have seen all of the Faces of Death videos without a flinch, cannot keep from turning away from the extreme sickness of some of these sequences. The acting is at least on par with that of more acclaimed films of the time such as Shaft of French Connection; in particular, Frank Kress, though perhaps not the most photogenic actor, delivers an impressively competent and smooth performance as Abraham Gentry, the all-knowing hero. The soundtrack, written by Herschell, is effectively sleazy in an upbeat way, with the eerily out-of-tune guitar and sax reminiscent of Arch Hall Jr.'s music. And it is this juxtaposition of lighthearted music, comedy ranging from subtle to beyond-toilet-humor, and extreme gore that make Gore-Gore Girls so mind-blowing. And Henny Youngmann's appearance in the film is the best $500 HG could have spent; it takes this opus over the top. Also, as a visual arts student, I especially appreciate the entrancing aesthetic value of the title cards (I know, what does that have to do with anything? But it's my favorite part of the movie.

When the go-go dancers from a chain of strip clubs start turning up horrifically mutilated, a newspaper, hoping to land a scoop, sends pretty reporter Nancy (Amy Farrell) to hire the services of genius private eye Abraham Gentry (Frank Kress). Together, Nancy and Abraham set out to solve the case.

The last of H. G. Lewis's infamous 'classic' gore movies, The Gore Gore Girls is another low budget piece of trash featuring shoddy acting, technically poor direction, and buckets of unconvincing gore. That said, the film does have a certain period charm (check out those strippers groovy dance routines!), an 'engaging' performance from Kress as the pompous P.I., and a fun tongue-in-cheek vibe that makes the nastier moments more palatable.

Fans of movie-kitsch will no doubt revel in the trashy strip-club scenes, the swinging soundtrack, and the nasty fashions, whilst gore-hounds will go ga-ga as the killer slashes and mashes his victims' features to a messy pulp, tenderises a woman's butt, sticks another's head in boiling oil, and, best of all, irons a girl's face before snipping off her nipples with a pair of scissors. None of this looks real, but it's still shocking stuff, particularly considering the time this was made.

Unfortunately, in between the 'fun' there is some dreadfully dull padding (several desperately unfunny comedy scenes featuring inept cops and some crap about womens-libbers) and anyone expecting anything other than 80 minutes or so of pure cheesy schlock will most likely be sorely disappointed.

Now, just what are you expecting from the director of The Wizard of Gore, Blood Feast, and Blood Feast 2: All U Can Eat. Herschell Gordon Lewis can certainly pile on the gore. There is so much gore that you quickly forget what that naked woman looked like before the killer got started.

There is actually a story here. Abraham Gentry, played by Frank Kress in his only role, is hired by The Globe to investigate a stripper's death. He is accompanied by cub reporter Nancy, played by Amy Farrell, whose had a couple of TV roles, but only one other movie role, a stew on Airport 1975.

The strippers are typical 70s. They wore pasties, didn't have a pole, and danced to cheesy music. The customers were typical for the time, too.

Now, I was an Argento fan long before Juno discovered him, and I was a Lewis fan before Justin Bateman brought him to light in the same film. It's schlock, and the gore is not going to be to everyone's taste, but it is campy fun.

Gore-Gore Girls is on of my favorite H.G. Lewis films. But the film has a sleazy, old school porn quality and feel to it. The director giving Henny Youngman lines that were mostly one liners was an interesting touch. However whenever he strayed from his one liners the lack of acting showed big time. The set pieces were interesting but everything else had a cheap aura. Like most of H.G. Lewis' films, no one takes it seriously and that's what I enjoy about this movie.

Recommended for campy horror film fans.

B

Legendary splatter master Herschell Gordon Lewis takes violence just about as far as he can in the standout scenes of this typically insane film. The only problem is, the movie tends to be tedious in between all of its outrageous highlights. It's certainly sleazy enough: the story has a series of go go dancers being mutilated in unspeakable ways by a demented killer. Nancy Weston (Amy Farrell), a ditzy reporter for a newspaper, hires renowned private detective Abraham Gentry (Frank Kress) to determine who the murderer is. "The Gore Gore Girls" features all of the hallmarks of any HGL film. The acting is often atrocious; exceptions here are lead Kress, who actually plays his unflappable if somewhat smarmy hero with wit and style, and the famous stand up comedian Henny Youngman, who plays his strip club impresario with gusto. Unfortunately, Youngman often talks so fast and loud one can't make out all of his quips. Farrell certainly is easy on the eyes, and due to the story line one can expect a fair amount of skin bared. One can also expect an odd ball character or two, especially hostile weirdo Grout, who loves to sit at bars and smash & smush produce. The persistent soundtrack is likewise good for some amusement. Making the whole thing worthwhile is the great flair HGL brings to his gore scenes. They're so far over the top, and so protracted, that it feels as if what he's really doing is spoofing himself. There are throat slittings, head mutilation, boiling a face in oil, and the piece de resistance, the slicing off of nipples which results in a flow of milk from one breast and chocolate milk from another. If nothing else tells us just how much HGL's tongue is in his cheek here, that'll do it. Fans of the director, and vintage exploitation / horror should lap it right up, others need not watch. There's undeniable padding; even at 85 minutes, this goes on a bit longer than it really needs to. And the identity of the killer will come as no surprise, although I can't imagine how many people would watch this actually hoping for a good murder mystery. As utterly crazy, trashy entertainment goes, one could definitely do worse than this. Six out of 10.