The Gore-Gore Girls (1972)

Oh my. Here’s a really cruddy flick from the innovator of onscreen gore himself, director H.G. Lewis. Looking as if he just stepped off the set of a Dario Argento flick, a raincoat-wearing psycho is murdering dancers from a local strip joint. It’s up to a newspaper reporter chick and a prissy detective to solve the crimes and, well, save the day or something. Lewis is often called a misogynist by his detractors and after viewing this one, I can see why. Not only are these floozies killed in the usual throat-slitting manner, this nutcase takes things a further. Heads and faces are hacked, hacked, and hacked some more, faces are squished till the eyeballs pop out like grapes (which they probably were), and one broad even has her ass smacked repeatedly by a meat tenderizer! Oh, the hilarity of it all. Watch out for some really, really bad dancing showcased by the many dancers in the film, women simply do not dance like this anymore and for a reason. A wretched mess of a film, which will appeal to Lewis and bad movie buffs only.