Sharon Stone once was quoted in a book called Vamps as saying "If you have a vagina and a point of view, that's a deadly combination." Megan Fox seconds that with the brain bleeding assertion that breasts are "smart bombs", you just need to locate your target, aim and shoot, turning boys brains to mush, in the recent chick horror flick Jennifer's Body. It sounds stupid, but unfortunately (for guys) it's all too true. In fact, in a recent scientific study at the University of Valencia in Spain, it was proven that a certain hormone (Cortisol) that is released when a man is alone with a beautiful woman for about five minutes is shown to have connections to heart disease. The hormone floods stronger if the man perceives the woman to be "out of his league". Ouch! Love hurts!
The horror film genre is replete with women paying the price for being, well, women, at the wrong place, at the wrong time, fucking the wrong guy, running naked up the wrong fucking stairs with their tits flapping all over the place like giant glistening knife targets. Doe-eyed lambs to the slaughter.
Fred Olen Ray's 1988 cult grindhouse classic Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers is a refreshing inversion of this common predicament. In this case it is men who fall prey to a cult of psychotic bloodlusty chainsaw-wielding lunatics who masquerade as hookers simply 'cause they know guys are suckers for a great set of tits and the promise of something more.
Hell hath no fury like these whorish harpies. Welcome to Hollywood, California; home of crazy cults and crazy damn broads. Jayne Mansfield, Church of Satan anyone? Frances Farmer, eat your heart out. You never seen crazy like these bitches. They are dedicated to their cause. After all, those ancient Egyptian god's ain't gonna feed themselves, you know!
Now these hookers have soul! They're no golddigging trollops, or desperate, teary-eyed teen runaways who will do anything for a bit of smack, turning tricks to survive. These girls are on a mission, and they're committed. They know guys need a little Tender Fucking Care.
This is a great raunchy burlesque show of a movie, replete with dirty puns, lame gags, and lots of blood splattered T&A. This is the kind of movie that you watch in the back of a tent in the bad side of town after the nudie show. It owes much to the brilliant transgressive abandon of Herschell Gordon Lewis and to nonsensical camp gold in the tradition of lovable pervert and misanthrope Ed Wood.
The format is noir. The delivery is bad minstrel show and porn-caliber acting (off, but enthusiastic). All the chicks in this movie give amazing jaw dropping performances. Michelle McLean as the head maneater Mercedes, is a heartless vicious bitch with a great rack. She plays her part to the hilt, with great camp cartoon villainess vamp glee. Esther Elise as her accomplice, Lisa also plays the camp diva villainess card to the hilt. Linnea Quigley is adorable and hilariously spunky as the supposedly ditzy teenage runaway, Samantha Kelso, the cause for our humble narrator and private eye, Jack Chandler, getting sucked in to this bizarre vortex of perversion and manslaughter.
Nothing is quite what it seems, and by the time you have arrived at the grand finale you will feel like you have been drugged and woke up at one fucked up party. You'll swear you'll never accept a drink from a suspiciously excited chick with a great rack, named Mercedes, who assures you with deadpan emphasis that she's gonna fuck your brains out and that she's a real scream, once you get to know her(wink, wink). Watch out for those crazy broads, they'll tear your fucking heart out and eat it with some salt and pepper (or chop you up into little pieces for their gods, take you pick, you'll taste delicious to them either way).
Overseeing this band of wild ladies of the mean LA streets is Gunnar Hansen, (legendary as maniac juggernaut Leatherface in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)who plays the part of their lofty-minded cult leader with deadpan straight face, resulting in great camp ironic perfection.
Laugh your ass off hilarious, bizarre and deliciously tasteless, this movie is sure to please the sassmouthed pervert in us all. But don't say I didn't warn you, if you watch this movie on drugs you will feel twice as stoned as you really are and before you know it you'll be tied up and at the mercy of a band of crazy-ass broads with great racks! Keep a tight hold on those family jewels and don't let anyone called Mercedes buy you any drinks with names like "The Screaming Orgasm", tempting as this might sound.
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