REVIEW: Gore Gore Girls

(1972)

reviewed by Garrett Cook

07.01.2008

Nowadays, when we think of weird cinema, of the subversive, of the sickening, of the midnight movie, we think of Lynch' s Eraserhead, Jodorowsky' s El Topo, Waters' Pink Flamingos and other cult films of that ilk. This is high culture, classy sensible surrealism for the art school kid, the flamboyant punk or the all around pervert. Then, we think of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Pieces, My Bloody Valentine and the reprehensible and lame Saw series. These are the providence of the gorehound, the slack jawed young delinquent in the Pantera T-shirt, longing for the glory days of unsophisticated violence as he longs for the glory days of real metal. People sophisticated enough to enjoy Withersin, cult horror literature and things of that ilk surely must take offense for being accused of such ignorance. This is not everybody's view of the gorehound, but the accusations of cultural naiveté still stand. Herschel Gordon Lewis is the reason we have gorehounds, but in a very meaningful way, he's also one of the catalysts for the midnight movie becoming what it has and the horror genre becoming what it has. The production values are low, the acting is inept, the plots often idiotic. How could one possibly think Lewis is a great surrealist, a great filmmaker or a master of horror? Well, here's how. These questions should all be laid to rest by the “The Gore Gore Girls.”

“The Gore Gore Girls” is breathtaking in its anarchy, beautiful in its devil-may-care approach to violence and dazzling in its moments of clarity. “The Gore Gore Girls” is about private eye Abraham Gentry (Frank Kress), hired by a young newspaper reporter (Amy Farrell) to discover who has been murdering strippers in a grisly fashion. The lineup of suspects is a post-Aquarian rogue's gallery, from the emotionally stunted violent Vietnam vet, to the most sinister transgressor of all: a thoroughly burlesqued feminist protester. The feminist is made to look a fool, an extremist and a crackpot, which may offend contemporary feminists, but this reveals one of the film's more interesting qualities: its resistance to change. The contemporary attitudes that wouldn't be at home in a Southern drive in were ridiculed and put under a microscope for debate, just as the film is a debate between the past (private eye stereotype solving mysteries at shady clubs) and the present (the gore film). Although graphic, it seems to simultaneously ask "what's the fuss about gore and sexuality?" this is sinisterly wholesome entertainment in its way, with an ingenuous heroine, vintage style burlesque acts and silly detective. The humor looms as large as the killing, with moments of deep, over the top unrealism such as when a woman's nipples are chopped off and begin to spray both conventional and chocolate milk. The fake aw-shucks naiveté of future John Waters films seems lifted from this and other Lewis productions almost wholesale. For the gorehound and the midnight movie buff alike, “The Gore Gore Girls” is a bundle of fun, poking fun of the times, feminism, the violence in the American psyche and the private eye genre.

An underrated film showing that Lewis' scatology is every bit as noble and intellectually stimulating as Jodorowsky's.

Reviewer Bio: Garrett Cook is a 25 year old horror writer and cult cinema buff. His book Murderland Part 1: H8 will

be available through Evil Nerd Empire (www.evilnerdempire.com)