Tueur de filles

Las Vegas dancer Raquel Welch is stalked by the crazed ex-husband of her best friend (who blames Rocky for breaking up his marriage). After a violent opening, film turns to more routine melodrama, as Welch runs from place to place, eventually hiding out at the Old Zoo in L.A.'s Griffith Park! Some nifty location work, lots of costume changes for our star, good supporting work from the underrated James Stacy. Yet, the film is too clean, too slick to be convincing--especially as it deals with seedy nightclubs and topless dancers. Much was made in the presskit of Raquel's dance routine, but it's laughable instead of memorable. Welch is rather over-the-top here; she really flourishes under a looser direction, and Disney-vet James Neilsen is just too mechanical for her. **1/2 from ****

The title sequence treats us two Raquels, as a bikini bar dancer. Her friend, Sandra Giles, is shot to death in front of her and many tourists at a Las Vegas hotel/restaurant, by her estranged, lunatic husband, Luke Askew, who blames her fellow dancers for turning her against him. He resolves to kill them all! Raquel flees to Los Angeles, where she is befriended by James Stacy, handsome enough so we don't resent his good luck. Of course, credulity is strained by this overlong pedestrian script, but there's an obligatory car chase and kindly professionals, both police and doctors. Will Askew prevail? Or will he get to Raquel, despite James's love? The ending is not exactly as expected.

Alan Morris guns down his estranged wife in cold-blood, and blames her friends namely Vegas showgirl Michele for turning his wife against him. She was there when it happened and he goes after her. This leads her to flee Vegas and make her way to Los Angeles, but Alan tracks her down. Late 60s flabby psychedelic psycho stalker on-the-run thriller that's thick on melodramatics but lacks tension despite moments of searing cat- and-mouse action and neon noir shades. However it remains hypnotic due to the wonderful presence of Raquel Welch and vivid Las Vegas and Los Angeles backdrops beautifully projected by agile camera-work. Sometimes the locations are much more of a character on screen then its leaden stars. Even though it's seedy in context and the nightlife shows, it's probably a touch too polished in presenting it, but its acts of violence have a touch of brutality. Pacing is somewhat a problem, as it seems to get lost in the neon lights, glitter and dance numbers. But the romance angle simply lulls between Welch and Stacy's characters and the script awkwardly goes about it. This just makes the film drag, until it reaches the fiery conclusion (now I know what the title means) between Welch and the steely Luke Askew. It's hearty in execution and well-made by director James Neilson, but generically crafted and less than exciting.

"What's a girl gotta do to get a job around here"?

Cars, Go-Go Girls and 60's Vegas. A fun time capsule. Unfortunately a pretty poor movie that would have sufficed being an episode of Police Woman. Worth seeing once if you're old enough to appreciate the time period.

Good, creepy bad guys that you can find in every 70's police dramas like Barnaby Jones or Mannix. This is one of those movies you want to label 'so bad it's good' but it falls short of that. The film stock quality seems to be very good which makes me wonder why so much money was invested in this unworthy effort.

Raquel is nice to look at. Stacy is a decent actor, and there are a few familiar character actors worth seeing. Otherwise, don't worry if you never see this one.

Luke Askew shoots his ex-wife, Las Vegas pony Kay Peters, and takes a shot at her fellow showgirls, including Raquel Welch. Miss Welch flees to Los Angeles, but Askew pursues. Will Miss Welch survive to find life and love with James Stacy, or will the crazy guy kill her?

It's a cheap feature, distinguished from a TV movie only by the topless dancers -- although Miss Welch is not one of them. Her specialty has her wearing clothes, and she spends the rest of the film in a tight top, schoolgirl-length skirt and white knee socks. The dialogue is blah, the cast is thoroughly undistinguished, save for Gordon Jump, and the highlights are the topless dancers and the scene in which Miss Welch sets her pursuer on fire. It's exploitation all the way from producer Leon Fromkess, whom you may remember as Executive In Charge Of Production for PRC.