Retro Review: The Gore Gore Girls
The Gore Gore Girls
Director: Herschell Gordon Lewis
Cast: Frank Kress, Amy Farrell, Hedda Lubin, Henny Youngman
Reviewer: Marc Patterson
Sleazy strip clubs, brutal murders, a witty and cunning private eye, and a killer you never saw coming. Could this be anything other than the notoriously sinful pleasure of The Gore Gore Girls? I think not. Considered one of his best, the “godfather of gore”, Herschell Gordon Lewis serves up a wild, gory, and fun-filled film that would be his last before his retirement from filmmaking.
The Gore Gore Girls is incredibly simple in premise, and yet has become a classic of horror and an essential of any exploitation collection. In it’s most simplistic core, The Gore Gore Girls is a straight up “whodunit” film. In a less than simplistic perspective this is sexploitation bordering on misogyny, and filled with social commentary and dark satire. But let’s one line it and then dig into the guts, shall we?
A psychopathic killer is knocking off strippers like it’s nobodies business, and a young reporter teams up with an ultra-suave private eye to find who’s behind the murders.
The opening scene pulls no punches. We go straightaway into a nasty murder that opens with a girl brushing her hair in front of a mirror. Less than twenty seconds later and she’s getting her face repeatedly smashed into that very same mirror. Once she’s fallen to the floor the assailant takes shards of glass and digs them into her face tearing her flesh to shreds. This scene goes on for nearly thirty gore filled seconds. Laughable gore? Yes. But pretty damn nasty nonetheless. 
The funny thing is, (and I emphasize “funny”) this was probably one of the least brutal killings of the film. After, and only after, this ghastly deed is done do we cut to the opening credits, which lay down the feel of the film we have just committed ourselves to. Cheese, sleaze, and video nasty. Pass me a tall cold one please.
Lewis kicks into the opening credits with upbeat free-form jazz that makes me want to take a long hit off the ol’ bong and sink back into my couch. It’s roughly a two and a half minute long montage that is reminiscent of early James Bond films, and rather unconventional for nearly any horror film I’ve seen. The underscoring music of the film follows suite with the opening number lending itself to the seedy feel the film emanates.
We drop back into the film with the camera focusing on a newspaper article regarding the murder. That girl turns out to be an exotic dancer who went under the stage name of Suzie Creampuff (Jackie Kroeger). Want some random trivia you can impress your friends and peers with? Her “real name” in the credits was Ethel Creampuff. Now, if this doesn’t give you an immediate hint of the kind of twisted humor that you’re in for then I’m not sure what else will.
We are then introduced to our lead character, the ultimate gentleman detective Abraham Gentry (Frank Kress). A private eye of much renown, Gentry is a clean, well-kept and meticulous fellow, and full of himself to boot. Gentry is approached by a young, nosy, and perky reporter Nancy Weston (Amy Farrell) who, on behalf of the paper, offers Gentry $50,000 to track down the murderer, given that she and the paper get the exclusive. He accepts and the fun begins.
From here we delve into the world of sleazy strip clubs, exotic burlesque dancers, and absolute mayhem. The film borders on becoming slightly formulated in that for a bit it feels like we are locked into an investigation, strip scene, murder, and repeat pattern. However, the plot continues to move forward and develops the story introducing an array of possible suspects. It’s like watching Clue on crack. With new possible suspects being unfolded at every turn we never are able to fully settle on a predictable killer.
The humor in the film is typical for Lewis, dark and relentless, and the murders are the hardest of the hard, yet certainly seem more cheesetastic than those truly cringeworthy moments from any of the Italian cannibal films of the 70’s or even the more modern “horror porn” flicks. Let’s just say that when it comes to gore, this film gets it done, and quite well. While none of the gore is ultra-realistic, the fact that it goes on and on and on is enough to even make the toughest guy in the room squirm just a little. However, on the other side of the fence, it’s so incredibly preposterous that part of you can’t help but laugh. Well okay… more than a part of you is going to laugh. There is a clear warning to be heeded here – don’t take this film too seriously.
And speaking of dark humor, even the likes of Freddy Kreuger would have trouble matching the one-liners of our famed detective Gentry. And it’s not just the one-liners about how the girl lost face, and got her make-up job messed up, and so on. It’s the subtle physical humor that is just as powerful. How can you not bust a gut when upon unsuspectingly walking into a crime scene Nancy faints and Gentry, completely ignoring her, casually walks over to the corpse, removes the lit cigarette that lingers between her toes, and takes a long thoughtful drag? Then, if that weren’t enough he cracks open a can of soda and spills some on Nancy to revive her.
And it’s not simply the humor of Gentry that pulls this film together. It truly comes from all angles, from the pushy crime scene photographers, to the bumbling police lieutenant heading up the investigations, and even to the owner of the Marz’s Heaven strip club. (More offbeat trivia right there)
When it comes to exploitation The Gore Gore Girls is the real deal. When people coined the term grind house, this is what they were referring to. Watching this you feel like you’re sitting in a sticky, balmy, dirty art house theater, and you can’t help but love every second of it.
I’ll admit it. I love this film. I love everything about it. But, this is a film you need to watch with a certain level of appreciation. It operates on its own level, and quite frankly, in my opinion many of today’s films should be held up to the standards that Lewis established.
The Gore Gore Girls doesn’t come recommended, or even highly recommended. It is mandatory viewing for any fan of modern exploitation. The Gore Gore Girls is Exploitation 101. So, send the kids to bed, grab a big bowl of popcorn, and the drink of your choice in a paper cup. Turn out the lights, and go back to when the days when grind house was born. I promise you, you won’t be disappointed.
