The Body Shop

Towards the 2nd half of the film we see the good doctor in love with his creation. I was feeling quite torn about a girl at the time and could almost understand why the doctor felt such strung emotions. Sure, perhaps he goes to far when he puts a cleaver through Igor's hump in a jealous rage, but that's what he did.

Yes this movie is gorey and that's the real strong point. Watch this film if you are into amputations and operations that pretty young girls will not survive.

The lines in the title of this review are the first lines in this film's theme song, a wonderfully demented parody of the (in my opinion horrible) song "My favorite things" from "The Sound of Music". And this fun little detail isn't the only aspect that makes "The Body Shop" aka. "Doctor Gore" (1973) recommendable to my fellow Gore/Trash fans. The film, which was created almost entirely by J.G. Patterson Jr., who served as producer, writer, director and leading man as the eponymous Dr. Gore, is crap, no doubt, but it is also beyond doubt that it is amusing, and that everyone involved, probably Patterson especially, was aware that they were not exactly making a masterpiece.

Dr. Brandon (Patterson) a famous but totally insane plastic surgeon, looses his beloved wife Anitra, a model, in an accident. Along with his hunchbacked assistant Greg (Roy Mehaffey), he henceforth kidnaps beautiful young women in order to build himself a new, perfect wife out of their body-parts...

"Doctor Gore" is doubtlessly a film of the 'so bad it's good kind', but it is also has qualities beyond the usual ridiculous trashiness. Mad science has always been one of my absolute favorite Horror topics, and, as a matter of fact, it is also one of the coolest topics for ridiculous Gore Trash flicks. Obviously shot on a minimal budget, "Doctor Gore" pays some homage to the "Frankenstein" films, especially James Whale's masterpiece "Bride of Frankenstein" (1935), and resembles the look of the early Troma / Herschell Gordon Lewis Gore flicks such as "Blood Feast" (1963) - only that this looks a lot cheaper and crappier. Obviously J.G. Patterson's motive was not merely to make a fun gore flick: Being a rather ugly, weird-looking fellow, his role of Dr. Brandon gave Patterson the opportunity to make out with a couple of hot, scarcely dressed young women (who would later end up as body-part donors in Dr. Brandon's laboratory).

Most of the gore is actually pretty well-made regarding the obviously tiny budget. The dialogue includes some extremely hilarious lines ("Get that, it might be the door... and put a coat on so they don't see you're a hunchback."). Besides the aforementioned theme song, "Doctor Gore" also includes a wonderfully crappy appearance by a country band called 'Bill Hicks and the Rainbows' - my new favorite band, NOT. For the rest of the film, I kept wondering whether Bill Hicks and Roy Mehaffey, who plays the hunchbacked assistant, are twins or even the same person - the two look exactly the same, and having two unrelated obese, red-bearded guys looking this weird in one film would be a huge coincidence. Other than J.G. Patterson, most of the cast members never did any other films. This is the first film I've seen out of the few by Patterson. Sadly, the man died of cancer in 1975.

Overall, "Doctor Gore" is a film that certainly isn't for everyone. As a matter of fact, it is total crap. But it is also amusing, and recommendable to my fellow fans of weirdness and cheap camp stuff. Dictionaries should show a screenshot from this film under 'trash flick'.

DR. GORE (1973) ½* J.G. "Pat" Patterson, Jenny Driggers, Roy Mehaffey. This was the second and last film by director and lead actor J. G. "Pat" Patterson. (Mr. Patterson reportedly died a year or so after this movie was made.) It's the story of a "doctor" who loses his wife and then decides to build the "perfect mate." Like a modern-day Dr. Frankenstein, he goes out and kills half-dozen or so women and then sews together the parts he likes best. The resulting "perfect mate" is a blond, well-endowed, empty-headed bimbo. The film is so technically inept that it's more annoying than entertaining, and the few unintentionally funny moments the film provides aren't worth the effort it takes to endure the rest of it. Rated X in its day (probably for violence, since there's very little nudity), the gore is laughably phony by today's standards.

Sorry, but this movie is too slow paced to make my bad movie night recommendation list. J.G. Patterson, who stars in the movie, does a great job with the gore, although there doesn't seem to be enough of it...especially if you are into that genre.

The variation I saw included a 10-minute introduction by H.G. Lewis who praises Patterson for his acting and directing experience. Unfortunately, the movie does not live up to what is promised.

Fortunately, the color and sound have been preserved, unlike many movies from the late 60s and early 70s that have become faded and trashed.

Like many movies of this genre, the enjoyable parts are the mismatched pieces of editing, makeup and the horrid acting.

It definitely has the influence of Lewis, but stops short. If the pace could have been picked up, the movie just might be worth rating a 5.

Now if Patterson could have mixed in a little gratuitous sex, ALA Harry Novak, it might have made my "B" list. Make sure to watch out for the beach makeout scene...

Ron Jaffe Orlando, Florida

The Body Shop is, as its AKA Doctor Gore suggests, a splatter movie. As such, I didn't necessarily expect a great plot, but I had hoped for more than a tired mashup of Frankenstein and Les Yeux Sans Visage. Whenever mad doctor Don Brandon (played by the film's director J. G. Patterson Jr.) is busily hacking up young women for spare parts so he can build his ideal mate, the film is reasonably fun, but everything in between is really dull.

Dr. Brandon decides to build his perfect woman after his beautiful young wife dies in a car crash. Using hypnotic powers, he seduces his pretty victims and takes them to his lab where, with the help of his loyal hunchback assistant Greg (Roy Mehaffey), he removes the best body parts, disposing of the rest in an acid bath (standard kit for any mad doctor). The removal of limbs and organs is good old-fashioned messy fun in the same vein as H. G. Lewis (Patterson Jr. Previously helped on some of the Godfather of Gore's movies and provided effects for drive-in favourite Three On A Meathook), but the rest of the film feels like an excuse for the director to cosy up to some sexy cuties who are way out of his league.

The script is terrible and makes little sense: if the doctor has such incredible mind control over hot women, why does he go to such great lengths to build a mate? Admittedly, she's a babe, but the women who provide the body parts aren't exactly munters. Why not go to Hollywood and hypnotise some A-list actresses?

The acting is diabolical: according to IMDb's trivia, the only trained actor in the whole shebang was Roy Mehaffey and he doesn't say a word. The worst performance comes from the guy who plays an inquisitive cop, who stumbles awkwardly through his lines, and then disappears for the rest of the movie, no doubt hiding in shame.

As for the direction and editing, it's par for the course: so sloppy that we are treated to an entire song by the most lifeless band in the world, a really boring montage of romantic moments between the doc and his mate, and the most obvious accidental inclusion of a clapperboard in the history of film.

In the hilarious final act, the doctor's woman, having been trained to be a subservient sex slave, throws herself at any man she encounters, including Greg, which results in the jealous doctor attacking the hunchback with acid and a machete and then dumping his body in the acid bath. Then, while the doctor is out, Brandon's babe runs off with a truck driver; as a result, the doctor loses what marbles he still had and is locked up in an asylum.

3.5/10, rounded up to 4 for IMDb.