Lewis was considered the Godfather of Gore and creator of the splatter film long before the 1972 film The Gore Gore Girls, but this X-rated entry into his cannon is one of the squirmiest. Already well known for nudie-cuties like Goldilocks and the Three Bares (1963) [the first nudist musical!], Lewis went on to invent the drive-in splatter flick with Blood Feast (also 1963). By the time of The Gore Gore Girls, a mishmash of softcore nudity and uber-low budget, gratuitous gore, the genre had been stretched to its near breaking point, at least by Lewis. This film marked his semi-swan song, only returning to directing in 2002 with a straight-to-video sequel to Blood Feast.
The Gore Gore Girls, then, is essentially a parody of his own newly-minted gore genre, and its wry, self-referential humor is its greatest asset. Following a pretentious and seemingly obsessive compulsive detective (long before Monk) through a series of murder investigations, the film moves from one wiggly-dance session (all tasseled-tame) to a murder-by-something ridiculous (meat tenderizer to the bum, face full of hot oil, several things that can’t be mentioned in public, etc.) to our ‘hero’ making a quick and wildly inappropriate quip. Repeat.
The Gore Gore Girls ain’t a good movie, folks, but you gotta love it’s awareness of itself. If half of our contemporary bad movies were this light-hearted, the world would be a much better (and certainly more fun) place.
