She-Devils on Wheels (Herschell Gordon Lewis, 1968)

Two fully-clothed orgies, two abandoned runway motorcycle races (the winner gets first dibs when the time comes to select the kind of cock they want to penetrate with their pussy), one poetry slam session, one airport runway adjacent biker brawl, one missing belly chain, and a whole lotta funky vests: Welcome to the feminist hellscape that is She-Devils on Wheels, a.k.a. Man-Eaters on Motorbikes. Ah, I couldn't help but notice that your eyes lit up when I alluded to the fact that this film may contain a plethora of funky vests. Well, my friend, your ocular luminosity is totally justified, as the vests in this movie are to die for. Coming in a wide array of colours (including leopard print!), the vests worn by the Man-Eaters, the toughest all-girl bike gang the mean streets of Medley, Florida have ever seen, are the hot ticket item of the season. Boasting a picture of a fang-heavy pink kitty cat wearing a bow-tie, the vests are only given out to those who are willing to live by the Man-Eater code. A strict doctrine that primarily involves abusing members of the male gender and repeatedly sticking it to The Man, the Man-Eater code, if broken, can lead to serious consequences. In other words, joining the Man-Eaters may be hazardous to your health. On the plus side, you do get to participate in sex parties, motorcycle races, rumbles, and, most importantly, you get your own vest!

I wonder what the Man-Eaters' policy is on allowing men to join their gang? What am I saying, of course men can't join, they're Man-Eaters, not the Man-Lovers.

Hmmm, this puts me in a bit of a bind, as I desperately want one of those vests.

Do they accept cross-dressers? I mean, if I showed up wearing teal hot pants, gold go-go boots and a long blonde wig, would they let me join? Actually, I think they would show my ass the door just for wearing teal hot pants with gold go-go boots. Seriously, what was I thinking when I put that ensemble together? God, I'm such an idiot. Here I am, trying to join a gang that only allows exceedingly attractive women to join, and I blow my chances almost immediately with a major fashion faux pas.

Okay, I realize that some of you might have spit out your prune juice the moment when I said, "exceedingly attractive women." But I won't back down from that statement. Just to prove how sincere I am, I'll say it again: The women who appear in She-Devils on Wheels are exceedingly attractive.

What I liked about the Man-Eaters was that they looked authentic. And it turns out, they are... authentic, that is. What I mean is, they're really bikers. Sure, they probably don't belong to a bike gang, but they're definitely the ones who are riding the motorcycles in this movie. That's right, no stunt doubles or cute camera tricks, these chicks are the real deal. Besides, Herschell Gordon Lewis isn't kind of director to hire expensive stunt performers or employ camera tricks, cute or otherwise.

Now, I'm not implying H.G.L. is cheap or lacks know-how. I'm just saying he brings a no frills approach to filmmaking that is rather refreshing.

Other than having your film be about an all-girl biker gang who wear flashy vests, one surefire way to get in my good graces to open your movie with a catchy song. And She-Devils on Wheels does not disappoint in that regard as it gives us the classic, "Get Off The Road" (words by Herschell Gordon Lewis, music by Robert Lewis), right out of the gate. If the movie turned out to be nothing but seventy minutes of Pat Poston's Whitey doing naked jumping jacks, I still would have given the movie a passing grade based solely on the awesomeness of the film's theme song.

"We are the hellcats nobody likes. Man-eaters on motorbikes... Get off the road!"

Long legs! Black boots! Puke green hot pants! Motorbikes! A scrappy theme song. This is how you start a biker movie. No, forget a biker movie, this is how you start every movie.

Leaving her place of residence in a beige skirt and getting into a red automobile, Karen (Christie Wagner) is up to something. Chucking the beige skirt for a pair of puke green hot pants and trading in the car for a motorbike at an undisclosed location, Karen obviously doesn't want her mother to think she's in an all-girl bike gang. Hence, the elaborate deception.

On top of making the changes I already alluded to, Karen also dons the vest of the Man-Eaters.

Meeting up with a fellow Man-Eater named Terry (Ruby Tuesday), a dirty blonde with a ferocious sneer, Karen rides to Man-Eater headquarters (a dilapidated shack just off the Interstate). When they arrive, we see that Whitey (Pat Poston) is fixing her Harely. The reason she's fixing it is because the Man-Eaters have a race coming up. You see, the Man-Eaters race one another to determine the pecking order of who gets the first pick out of the many low-life studs they have stashed away in their harem.

Judging by the way Queenie (Betty Connell), the leader of the Man-Eaters, is thrusting her bountiful crotch to-and-fro, it's obvious she's not happy about something. And wouldn't you know it, the cause of this unhappiness is Karen-related. The thing is, Queenie is wary of what she sees as Karen's lack of enthusiasm for the Man-Eater lifestyle. This wariness on the part of Queenie plays an important role in how the film plays out, as every action usually has something to do with the tension between the two bikers.

You would think, given her preference for tight-fitting trousers, that Queenie would be in danger of exposing the shape of her labia. However, that's not the case at all, as not once did I notice anything that came close to resembling the toe of a camel. And believe me, I looked long and hard to try to uncover some kind of vaginal indentation, but came up vag-empty every time.

Anyway, it's race time. And you know what that means? It's time to meet the other Man-Eaters. This scene, the one that takes place moments after the race is finished, is critical to learning their names, as you won't get another chance. It's clear that Queenie is the leader, Whitey is second in command, Karen is the reluctant biker and Terry is the one who sneers a lot.

As for the rest... Well, you see the spunky one with strawberry blonde hair, that's Honey Pot (Nancy Lee Noble), she's not a fully-fledged member of the Man-Eaters, but she hopes to be one someday.

The two brunettes are Russian (Joani Kramer) and Supergirl (Donna Stelzer) and the two redheads are are Deita (Roz Cohen) and Mac (Laura Platz). I'm afraid that's it as far as names go, as I couldn't quite make out what Honey Pot was saying when she identified the other Man-Eaters (she was in charge of keeping track of what place each Man-Eaters came in during the race).

Though, using deductive reasoning, the blonde in the gold pants has to be Poodle (Donna Testa). I mean, let's get real folks. Blonde hair + Gold pants = Poodle. It's that simple.

Pay close attention to Poodle's body language during the stud selection process, it's clear as a day that she would rather be out hitting on chicks at one of  Medley's numerous dyke bars.

After the stud selection process is complete (the suspense surrounding which piece of low-rent man-candy Whitey will chose is palpable - I guess there were no chubby chasers in the house), a clothed orgy ensues. Well, actually, a clothed wrestling match ensues, as the style of groping they engage in wasn't even close to being sexual. If I had to list one gripe about this movie, it would be the lack of nudity. The film would have so much better had the two clothed orgies had been more pornographic in nature.

Did anyone notice that I used the word "gripe" in the above paragraph? No? Well, it would seem that gripe was a popular word in 1968, as not only does Whitey use it in this film, so does Big Shim in the classic film, She Mob. To make matters even more factual, they use it in the exact same manner. As in: "What's the gripe?"

Sporting his trademark use of colour (like I said, the Man-Eater vests come in a wide array of colours and Queenie's crotch is always draped in brightly coloured fabrics) and boasting a couple of effective gore moments (a man's head is severed at one point and another man is dragged face down behind a Man-Eater motorcycle), Herschell Gordon Lewis has made a–get this–feminist(!), proto-riot grrrl masterpiece with She-Devils on Wheels.

The Gore Gore Girls (Herschell Gordon Lewis, 1972)

Finally, a movie with enough horse-sense and common decency to feature an upwardly mobile leggy woman with an affinity for ecru mini-skirts. I mean, when I first saw the ecru mini-skirt appear onscreen, I was like: Hallelujah, my prayers have finally been answered. What's that? You're absolutely right, I do pray for the darndest/lamest things. But then again, I only pray for the things I like, and I like ecru mini-skirts. If that makes me pathetic and sad, so be it. I'm not going sit here and pretend to be someone who doesn't like ecru mini-skirts. At least not on my watch. And the last time I checked, this is my watch. Anyway, for years I've been openly bemoaning the fact there aren't that many movies kicking around out there for us fans of leggy women of the upwardly mobile variety who wear ecru mini-skirts. Complaining to anyone who would listen, I would wander the streets in an ecru mini-skirt-less haze, screaming nonsensical gibberish of an ecru mini-skirt nature at the top of my lungs. Well, I can scream a little less, 'cause, wouldn't you know it, Herschell Gordon Lewis of all people and his giallo-esque The Gore Gore Girls has decided to come along and feed my ravenous hunger for ecru mini-skirts. Of course, I had no idea going in that this semi-putrid slab of low-cost ghastliness was going to be the cinematic nugget to satisfy my desire to see a whip-smart field reporter with toothsome gams help a super-suave ultra-dandy solve a murder mystery while wearing an ecru mini-skirt. In other words, it was a happy accident.

I know, you're thinking to yourself: What the fuck is "ecru"? It's sort of a greyish pale yellow. (Are you sure it isn't yellowish brown?) That's the thing, ecru is a lot different things to a lot of different people.

You think all this talk about ecru mini-skirts is off-putting and creepy, wait until I find out the whip-smart field reporter with the toothsome gams sheaths those very same gams in a pair of tight tan pantyhose, I'm going to lose my motherfucking mind. Oh and guess what? I just found out, like, ten seconds ago.

Since the tan pantyhose scene to end all tan pantyhose scenes occurs near the end of this here motion picture, let's focus on what happens at the beginning first and then work our way towards the tan pantyhose scene, shall we? (That sounds like a plan. But if you fail to focus your attention on the tan pantyhose scene, I'm going to...) Yeah, yeah, you're going to throw the world's worst hissy fit. Keep your panties on, I'll get to it.

Wasting very little time, the film immediately opens with the sight of a go-go dancer named Suzie Cream Puff (Jackie Kroeger) getting her face bashed multiple times against a mirror by a faceless killer wearing black leather gloves. Talk about your gruesome openings. Think about it, I barely had time to adjust to surroundings, when, blamo, a woman in a pink bra is having her face literally rearranged. If things are this gory in the first ten seconds, who knows what kind of sick and twisted shit we're going to see later on.

Reading about Miss Cream Puff's murder in the paper on his flowery cat vomit of a couch, Abraham Gentry (Frank Kress) hears a knock at the door. As he approached the door, the voice in my head kept saying: Please be an attractive novice reporter with shapely legs and long reddish hair, over and again. And wouldn't you know it, an attractive novice reporter with shapely legs (which I'm sure would look great sheathed in tan pantyhose) and long reddish hair is standing in Abe's doorway.

Say hello to Nancy Weston (Amy Farrell), an attractive novice with... (You don't have to mention that part again.) Yeah, I guess I don't. At any rate, after mistaking him for the butler, Nancy offers Abraham Gentry a large sum of money to help her investigate the grisly murders that are currently taking place within the city's flourishing go-go dancer community.

(Hey, I thought you said Nancy's mini-skirt was ecru? The mini-skirt she is wearing in Abe's apartment is clearly taupe or beige.) Which is it, taupe or beige? Um. Just kidding, the ecru mini-skirt makes it first appearance in the next scene.

After making yet another clever remark, Nancy asks Abraham if he's finished being clever, to which he replies, "I'm never done being clever." Pompous as he may sound, he's actually right, Abraham Gentry's cleverness knows no bounds.

Don't believe me, just ask Marlene (Hedda Lubin), the waitress who seems to work at every strip club in town, as she is constantly on the receiving end of Abraham's clever retorts throughout the film.

At first, I was confused by the Marlene character. What I mean is, I thought she was played by different actresses. For example, the waitress who takes Abe's drink order is wearing a purple leotard with a green wig, but the waitress that brings Abe his order is wearing a pink leotard with a blonde wig. Well, I soon discovered that Hedda Lubin played Marlene in every scene. And what she did was, she simply changed leotards and wigs between shots.

(Did she wear tights with her legion of leotards?) Of course she did. What's wrong with you? She's a sophisticated modern woman who wouldn't be caught dead without a thin layer of nylon pressing tightly against her uncomplicated vagina.

It's true, most people will tell you the reason they love The Gore Gore Girls so much is because of the gore, but the snarky back and forth between Abraham Gentry, a never not clever dandy fop who carries a cane, and Marlene, a cynical no-nonsense go-go bar waitress, was definitely my favourite non-mini-skirt/non-tan pantyhose-related thing about this movie.

The utter contempt they have for one another right from the get-go was exquisite. And add the fact that Marlene never appears onscreen in the same leotard or wig does nothing bring an extra level of oft-kilter weirdness to an already weirdly off-kilter set of circumstances.

After obtaining information from a go-go dancer in blue pasties and yellow panties, Abraham sets out to obtain more information. Utilizing a seemingly endless supply of cash, Abraham is quickly making progress. Insisting on tagging along is Nancy, who is waiting for Abe outside the Candy Cane Club.

Anyone care to guess what Nancy is wearing while lounging on top of Abe's white 1966 Corvette? That's right, an ecru-esque mini-skirt.

Even though Herschell Gordon Lewis drops the ball early on when it comes to filming Nancy in her ecru-esque mini-skirt, he more than makes up for it later on, as we see her lengthy legs in all their lengthy glory when Nancy and Abe stumble upon the crime scene of another faceless dead go-go dancer. The way H.G.L.'s camera lingers on a distraught Nancy (it's not everyday that you stumble upon a go-go dancer without a face) as she sits in a leggy manner was much appreciated.

In order to mislead the audience, we're introduced a character/red herring named Grout, a bouncer who works at Tops and Bottoms. Usually seen sitting at the bar, Grout spends most of his time drawing faces on fruit and then smashing them with his fists. If that wasn't enough, we're also introduced to a group of feminists who like to protest (they carry signs that say things like, "Lewd is Crude") the go-go bars owned by Marzdone Mobilie (Henny Youngman). I, for one, I'm not buying for a second that Grout or one of the feminists is responsible for the murders.

When the feminists cause a small riot to break out in Tops and Bottoms, Abe (after dumping a passed out drunk Nancy in a cab) goes home with a go-go dancer named Lola Prize (Nora Alexis). Not to have sex with her, mind you, but to interview her about her dead colleagues. (Are you sure Abe isn't a Friend of Dorothy? I mean, he hasn't tried to nail any of the chicks that have crossed his path so far.) Maybe he's picky. (Picky? Have you seen Nancy? She's a babe.)

Don't worry, I have a feeling Abraham Gentry knows exactly what he's doing. (Are you sure about that? After all, he had no idea the go-go girl killer was in Lola's kitchen.) Oh yeah. Speaking of Lola's kitchen, did anyone think the killer was going smash Lola's firm ass to a bloody pulp with a meat tenderizer? I didn't see that coming. The suspect sticks with the kitchen theme for their next couple of kills, as an iron and a pot of fries are used to gruesome affect. (Don't forget the nipple cutting/chocolate milk scene set to marching band music.) Ugh, that was gross. I mean, marching band music?!?

Culminating with an amateur striptease contest at Marz's Heaven, Abe plans an elaborate ruse to expose the identity of the go-go girl killer. How does he go about this? It's simply, really. Tan pantyhose. (What about 'em?) If you want to a catch a serial killer who is bumping off go-go dancers, just put a leggy gal in tan pantyhose. And who's more leggy than Nancy Weston? (I can't think of anyone. But Nancy isn't a go-go dancer.) Yeah, but you don't have to be a professional go-go to enter the amateur striptease contest (the word "amateur" is in the title).

(Oh, I see where this is going, Abe is using Nancy tan pantyhose adorned legs as bait.) Exactly. Now, I don't want to give away the results of Abe's tan pantyhose sting operation, but let's just say the results are pretty damn sexy.

(Do you want to summarize your thoughts regarding The Gore Gore Girls?) Not really. I think everything I just said pretty much summarizes how this film is close to perfect in terms of content. It's the sexiest, goriest episode of Law and Order ever.

Something Weird (Herschell Gordon Lewis, 1967)

According to my crack research staff--and by "staff," I mean, Steve, Justin, Agnieszska, Big Lloyd and Tammy--white people didn't start taking martial arts classes until 1973--you know, the year Enter the Dragon came out. (Okay, if that's the case, how do you explain the fact that Herschell Gordon Lewis' Something Weird opens with two white guys doing karate?) Truth be told, I don't think anyone can explain why this film opens with two white guys doing karate. (A paradox for the ages, perhaps?) It looks like it. (Oh, well.) Another thing before I begin my lavishly ornate tribute to one of the most alluring witches in film history, did anyone else find it strange that Dr. Alex Jordan (William Booker) told two Jefferson, Wisconsin detectives that he was attacked by a blanket? I mean, if I was attacked by a blanket in Jefferson, Wisconsin, I would have kept it to myself. I don't care how savage the blanket might have seemed, you don't go around telling other men you were nearly murdered by a blanket. If I was to tell the fellas about my unique brush with death, I would have told them I was attacked by a demonic armada of commemorative dinner plates, or better yet, a psychotic blender with mommy issues, as these household items are far more menacing than a blanket. (White guys doing karate, homicidal blankets? I don't want to come off as close-minded, but this film sounds like a huge piece of crap.) Oh, it's a huge piece of something all right. I'm just not sure crap is the term I would use. (Shit?) No, that's not right either. (Fecal matter?) Nope. (Unrefrigerated diarrhea?) *sigh*

This film is a huge piece of Mudite Arums. (Huh? Is that a new euphemism for poo?) Uh-uh. Credited as "The Hag," Mudite Arums is the main reason to watch this movie. (First of all, what the hell is a Mudite Arums? And secondly, is there any gore?) Let me answer you're second question first. No, there isn't any gore. I know, a Herschell Gordon Lewis film without gore might seem redundant, but that's just the way it is (the majority of H.G.L.'s films, by the way, are not so-called "gore films").

What is a "Mudite Arums"? I've been asking myself that very question non-stop for about a week. (Are you sure Mudite Arums is not some figment of your witch-loving imagination?) Oh, she's real all right. And I have the stains to prove it. I can't believe I just said that. It was not only inappropriate, it was downright disgusting. I am truly sorry.

In my defence, though, Mudite Arums does have a pair of lips on her left knee. (No she doesn't.) Yeah, she does. (If that's the case, this film must have reduced you to a quivering pile of gelatinous goo.) It must have? (Aren't you the one who's always going on about how they want to lick and/or kiss the knees attached to witches?) Oh, yeah, you're right. I am that one, aren't I?

And just like the white guys doing karate and the homicidal blanket, I can't really explain why Mudite Arums has lips on her left knee. However, unlike the karate and the blanket, I don't really want to know why Mudite Arums has lips on her left knee, as the mystery surrounding their existence gives her character an added layer of depth.

Let's say you're non-psychic who works for an electrical company and you sort of look like a blurred photo of a young George Peppard. You might not be psychic, but you get a regular paycheck and you sort of look like a blurred photo of a young George Peppard. In other words, life is good.

What if a terrible accident took away your ability to not only work for an electrical company but robbed you of your ability to sort of look like a blurred photo of a young George Peppard, how far would you go to get the latter back? (What about the former?) Fuck that noise, I want to sort of look like a blurred photo of a young George Peppard. (Right, where's my head.)

While I implied earlier that Something Weird opens with the two white guys doing karate, in truth, it actually opens with a killer choking a woman wearing a white knee-length skirt with matching pumps. We eventually see the woman's face as she falls to the ground, but the killer's identity is not revealed; at least not yet. I just wanted to mention this before anybody got bent out of shape and accused me misleading them into thinking they were going to get white guys doing karate right from the get-go.

One of the white guys doing karate is Dr. Alex Jordan (William Brooker), a government scientist who is in charge of parapsychological research. After karate class, we see Alex making out with a blonde woman on a couch. And just as the blonde woman is telling Alex that he is "positively electrifying," we see an electrician get electrocuted and fall off a roof. A bunch of his co-workers come to his aide. One of these of helpful co-workers, Cronin 'Mitch' Mitchell (Tony Mccabe), tries to grab a live wire, but it hits him in the face.

At the hospital, two doctors are discussing Mitch's case (one of them calls him "almost deranged"). While getting half your face burned off sucks and all, Mitch is now psychic. Yeah, it would seem that Mitch's accident was a curse and a blessing. On the one hand, the electricity has given him a rare gift. Yet, part of his face looks like burnt toast covered in a healthy dollop of lumpier than usual marmalade.

Doing what any other electrician turned scarred psychic would do, Mitch charges people two dollars a pop to get a psychic reading from a real psychic.

One day, while giving readings, in walks a vision of... loveliness?!? That's doesn't sound right. In walks a vision of tasteful elegance. (Are you sure you know what words mean?) What? ("Tasteful elegance"? C'mon, man.) Whatever. Enter The Witch (Mudite Arums). Oh, before I continue, I should mention that a book on witchcraft magically appears in Mitch's hands before The Witch comes in. At any rate, The Witch greets Mitch by saying, "Good day, Mr. Mitchell," in a decidedly witchy manner.

If you're thinking The Witch in Something Weird looks like Elizabeth Montgomery from Bewitched or Nicole Kidman from Bewitched, think again. This witch is the kind of witch who slouches a lot and has facial warts. Meaning, she's my kind of witch. But, of course, this witch isn't Mitch's kind of witch, so, he rebuffs her the bargain she tries to make with him, one that entails that he become her lover in exchange for fixing his fucked up face.

As The Witch was listing the framework of her bargain, I was already chomping at the bit to agree to her terms, as I was already head over heels in love with her, facial warts and all.

Even though he rejects her, The Witch fixes Mitch's fucked up face anyway. When Mitch goes to thank The Witch, she has mysteriously disappeared. Or has she? No, wait, she's definitely not here. What I mean is, I don't think this will be the last we'll hear from The Witch, as witches rarely do things without getting something in return. In fact, forget about witches, most people don't do anything without at least getting something in return.

Entering a fancy restaurant with a newfound swagger, Mitch approaches an attractive woman in a yellow dress sitting all alone. And before you know it, Ellen Parker (Elizabeth Lee) is sitting on Mitch's couch wearing nothing but a towel.

Suddenly, without warning, Ellen Parker turns into The Witch. Laughing in a manner befitting a witch, The Witch sort of stands up (don't forget, she's a sloucher), and evilly reminds Mitch about their bargain. The way Mudite Arums says the word "lover" drives me wild (the emphasis she puts on the 'L' is the stuff shameful erections are made of). Oh, and it's in this scene where we get our first glimpse of the lips on The Witch's left knee.

"I had a dream--I wanted to lick your knees." ~ Camper Van Beethoven

Since the police in Jefferson, Wisconsin are desperate to catch a blow torch-wielding serial killer, one who has killed seven women, they turn to Mitch for help. As he's being recruited by the cops, Dr. Alex Jordan arrives in town to gauge Mitch's validity as a psychic, the federal government is eager to exploit his gifts to fight the Soviets.

After providing the police with multiple demonstrations of his power, Mitch is put on the case. However, Dr. Jordan is still somewhat skeptical. It doesn't seem to matter, though, as he seems more interested in wooing Ellen Parker than investigating Mitch's psychic abilities.

Even though we're given the occasional reminder that Ellen Parker is, in actuality, a witch. I thought the film could have used more scenes that featured Mudite Arums acting all witch-like, and less one's that boasted squares with boring haircuts sitting around talking about serial killers and demonically possessed blankets. I did like it when Dr. Jordan uses karate to subdue a couple of drunken troublemakers outside a bar, as it totally justified the existence of the white guys doing karate scene that sort of opened the film.

Oh, and I could have used more of Peg Stewart, she plays the leggy brunette Mitch chats with at a party.