As Diabólicas Sobre Rodas

Look, I'm not saying that Herschell Gordon Lewis should have just "stuck to what he knew", and just do nothing but gore flicks, because Moonshine Mountain was awesome, and This Stuff'll Kill Ya was also quite good, and, well, come to think of it, that's pretty much all I have to say about Lewis's non-gore. However, it seems I have just committed myself to a review of She-Devils On Wheels...*sigh*... OK, fine.

This is what I'm talking about. She-Devils On Wheels is a prime example of the 60's gore flick without the gore. And then, what are we left with? That's right. Just boring a pile of blah blah blah. Yes, I realize that this film, and films like Just For The Hell Of It is apart of its own genre, separate from gore. Yet, exactly what that genre is, escapes me.

The first thing I hate about this movie is the man-eaters theme song from the beginning. Fingernails on a chalkboard. The second thing I hated was the fat, loud chick. There's nothing I hate more than someone who thinks they can push others around just because they're fat. As if somehow all that fat makes them super-strong. I don't know, maybe it's like that for chicks. After that, I really hated on that pointlessly-PG orgy, or whatever that was supposed to be. Enough rambling. I gotta tell you what it's about sooner or later.

The Man-Eaters (shouldn't they be called the She-Devls?), a motorcycle gang, are an ornery bunch of gals, just lookin' for trouble. When these chicks aren't terrorizing the locals, they're usually out somewhere holding motorcycle races, to determine who gets first dibs on any available men, although, none of them really think too highly of men. And yes, this is where these so-called orgies come in. But there ain't much huggin' and kissin' when a rival all-male gang starts some trouble. Good thing these gals got the fat one on their side... Wait, nevermind.

Herschell Gordon Lewis once said that he sees filmmaking as a business, and pitys anyone who sees it as an art-form. Now, I'm not exactly sure how that is relevant to this anti-She-Devil review, but those words do sorta sound like they came from a man who makes incredibly boring movies (from time to time). It seems like Herschell was kinda trying to go semi-mainstream. Unfortunately he wouldn't learn his lesson so easily, as for the next few years, the non-gore would greatly out-weigh the gore. It's OK, because The Wizard of Gore was amazing.

I would suggest pairing this up with something awesome like Werewolves On Wheels, but perhaps one movie would be enough, because this movie sucks, and there's Just no way around it. Sorry, H.G., it hurts to say such harsh things about a film that you are so obviously proud of. And you should be, sir, because She-Devil's On Wheels is more than most of us accomplish. So, as usual, my rating of a Lewis film will be more than fair, considering Lewis is the man and all. But I really hate this movie. I really, really do. 6/10

'She-Devils On Wheels' is quite a change of pace from Herschell Gordon Lewis , the gore pioneer best known for movies like 'Blood Feast' and '2000 Maniacs'. Apart from a guy getting dragged by chains behind a motorbike and later, a decapitation there is very little blood or violence in this campy and surprisingly lame look at a "wild" all female biker gang The Man Eaters. The girls spend most of their time racing each other to see who gets first pick in the "stud" line, with limerick reciting and stealing candy from children for a bit of variety. This movie of course is awful, but still worth a groan or two if not an actual chuckle. The best thing about it (apart from the fantastic title, which it cannot possibly live up to) is the catchy and ineptly performed theme tune, later covered by The Cramps.

Master exploitation filmmaker Herschell Gordon Lewis tries his hand at the biker genre that really took off the following year with "Easy Rider". Here he gets fair results, with a screenplay credited to his then-wife, Allison Louise Downe. It functions more as a series of bits than a real story, and overall it's kind of mild. Those people expecting the fireworks produced by his renowned gore films will be disappointed.

The Man-Eaters, the all-female motorcycle gang depicted in this non-epic, are never terribly threatening or much of a danger to society. Mostly they love to recite poetry, help themselves to an assortment of studs, and race. One of their number is Karen (Christie Wagner), who joined a while back despite the objections of her boyfriend Ted (Rodney Bedell). Their "mascot" is a sweet faced, upbeat gal named Honey Pot (Nancy Lee Noble). And the official leader of the gang is the swaggering Queen (Betty Connell). They cause trouble for themselves when they rumble with a male gang led by Joe-Boy (John Weymer).

We do see the aftermath of some rather nasty violence, but the only hilarious bit of gruesomeness comes from a decapitation near the end. The movie offers some fun, but it never reaches the lunatic heights of HGLs' best known work. This viewer can see why some trash lovers - even those who are fans of HGL - might consider it boring.

The acting is pretty rough and amateurish, but the performers are entertaining enough to watch anyway. Connell does have some charisma, and corpulent Pat Poston some screen presence.

This is lesser HGL, but even lesser HGL is not completely without entertainment value.

Six out of 10.

Anyone who can't appreciate this CAMPY movie for what it is has no appreciation or knowledge of true 60's B-sleaze-movies. C'mon, folks - it was 1968.. the summer of Love was just barely over, and you still had massive restrictions on what you could, and couldn't show in a film of ANY genre. Enter Hershel G. Lewis. and the Man-Eaters. Part of what's so hilarious about this film is that the real-time, bikerChix of Southern FL (Filmed in a town called "Medley" around an abandoned airport) were bikers 1st, and actors second. Compared to latter-day hip-hop momma's of Brooklyn's PS103, these broads WOULD be a bunch of Daisy-pickin' mommas - but again, this was 1968. The styles, clothes, cars, HAIR!, and other peripherial shots are worth the watching, as is the clumsy acting. Those who lived through 1968 will catch some of the buzz-words of the day, ie: "Where's his PAD, Nick?" and "What's the Action?" And check out that theme song, repleat with the same twangin' guitar sound as (I) remembered being used on late-60's girl Scout commercials! It's hilarious! And the lounge-Music used for the orgies after the girls "Pick" - Not what I'd imagine Ruby Tuesday would have been into in 1968, with her LSD-inspired scraggly hair and shades - but hey, this is the mistique that is S.D.O.W. Even the "Sex" scenes are tame by today, when Janet Jackson can make a cereal commercial with her boob hangin' out - but remember, it was 1968 and the best that 200+ LB. "Whitey" could do sexually was ride some dork's back in a twitchin', twirlin' frenzy. Whoo! The swingin' female-sex kitten-dominatrix theme is nothing new, nor was it when HGL made this film. What WAS new was that he used real bikers, a real Florida town, and the REAL bad acting that made this cult film the classic it is. If you expect more than that - you're missing the point. I can't imagine what a current-day sequel could be. As for Karen - I think she should have left the gang with Rodney Beddell ( the Blond w/the Corvette ) - but that would have been my ulitmate ending: Kick Queenie's ass, send Whitey to jail, befriend HoneyPot before she gets herself knocked-up or raped again, and go back to being a good girl. Sigh* - I can dream.

If ANY of the actors involved with this movie are still breathing, CONTACT ME!

Shoddy, crudely filmed biker movie with interesting role-reversal concepts, which it completely misuses (like so many other movies). It reminded me a bit of "Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill!", but it is much worse. About half the dialogue is literally impossible to understand. The decapitation scene is so bad it must be seen to be believed; thank God someone at least remembered to put the glasses back on the severed head after it had fallen on the ground. (*1/2)