Bad Girls Go to Hell

During the mid-60s, there was a slew of these tacky drive-in movies. Most of them were barely indistinguishable from one another. They all had exceptionally pretty, but sleazy female characters, who were always running around nude, or nearly-nude. Most of these flicks also featured plenty of violence (especially of women getting beaten and raped), and excessively bawdy lesbian sex scenes, no-doubt thrown in to titillate male viewers.

This film has quite a bizarre plot premise. When a young wife is raped by the janitor in her apartment building, she flees the scene, after killing him in self defense. As the story unravels, the viewer sees the wife waking-up screaming, relieved that what happened to her seemed to be only a dream. Or was it? The viewer can never quite be sure, because of the convoluted way that the story progresses.

This movie, like others of it's ilk, is little more than soft-core porn. But it, and other films like it, were on the cutting-edge of sensationalistic sex and violence, during the swinging 60s. These films were quite shocking, back when they were made. Now, films like these seem ludicrously melodramatic. If you are nostalgic about seeing seedy 60s B movies, then you may find this film mildly entertaining.

A sexploitation flick that's risen to cult status based on its lurid title alone, Bad Girls Go To Hell is a time-capsule of sixties' sleaze. Don't expect Doris Wishman to inject any feminist subtext into this misogynist genre. This was Wishman's first roughie, a sub genre focusing on titillating the audience with male violence perpetrated against women. Sadly, this trend of equating sex with violence continues to be prevalent in pornography today. Wishman, like fellow exploitation director Russ Meyer, shows considerable skill as an editor. However, Bad Girls Go To Hell is a technical mess. The threadbare plot focuses on a housewife who flees the police after murdering her rapist. Why she doesn't claim self-defense for the quite justified killing is never explained. The housewife, played by Gigi Darlene, is quite a beautiful woman. She carries herself with grace and poise, seemingly unaffected by Wishman's leering camera. There are numerous salacious shots focusing on Darlene's buxom form, but most of the nudity appears in the first ten minutes. After that, the film relies more on her meager acting talents. The movie ends with an "it was all just a dream" coda, explaining away some of the more bizarre and unrealistic moments. The strongest moments of this film, a lesbian subplot, appears to have been cut to ribbons by outraged censors.

An ex-girlfriend of mine used to drive around with a bumper sticker that said: "Good girls go to heaven… Bad girls go everywhere!" I always found that hilarious and the title of this little 60's exploitation film instantly reminded me of it. "Bad Girls Go To Hell" is another glamorous and ultimately sophisticated accomplishment of the great writer/director Doris Wishman; the woman who pretty much single-handedly popularized the so-called "roughie" exploitation movies during the sixties. The films of Mrs. Wishman may perhaps not be very good (in fact, she was quite often referred to as the female Ed Wood) but she definitely had … well … balls! This film is boring, poorly acted, ineptly directed and desperately stuffed with padding footage to reach a half-decent running time, but still I can't bring myself to harshly criticize it. The year was 1965 and here she was – Doris Wishman - showing girls' bare bottoms, attempted rape and even quick nipple flashes. The plot of this film sounds acceptable enough, but in fact it's really silly and laughable. When the Meg Kelton is taking the trash out in her see-through nightgown on a Saturday morning, her sleazy janitor attempts to sexually assault her. You can tell this man is really sinister because he has a Slavic accent, ha! When Meg goes to his apartment later on - I haven't got the slightest idea why she does that, though – he tries to rape her again and she kills him with a glass bowl. The poor girl panics, obviously, and impulsively decides to leave her house and husband and flee to New "Hell" York. Once there, Meg's life only gets worse and worse. She successively ends up with a friendly man who turns into an abusive monster when he drinks, a lesbian stripper, a married couple of whom the husband is yet another rapist pig and an elderly lady with a creepy police officer for a son. Poor, poor Meg! If she wasn't such a bad actress, I might have felt really sorry for her. And then Gigi Darlene, the girl who plays Meg, is still the most talented one in the whole cast by far. "Bad Girls to Hell" has a stupid ending, but then again, it was still okay in the sixties, I guess. If you're familiar with this type of cheap and raunchy Z-grade cinema, you know what else to expect, right? We're talking dialogs clearing added during the post-production phase, inexplicably large amounts of filming people's feet, monotonous go-go- dancing music, etc, etc

My first Doris Wishman film, which a friend told me was supposedly one of her best (if so, then I'd hate to see her worst)! This thing concerns a young woman who first gets attacked by her janitor and so flees away into the big city where she incomprehensibly manages to become involved with all sorts of sick and abusive strangers along her path, yet naively and inexplicably keeps moving in with them! Kind of perversely funny watching her shack up with each guy only to soon be carrying her same suitcase away with her in the middle of the night again and again.

* out of ****

Watching Doris Wishman movies is like driving past a car wreck; you know you're gonna see something awful if you look, but you just can't help yourself! The Something Weird DVD edition of "Bad Girls Go To Hell" that I just watched is paired with another Wishman epic, "Another Day, Another Man," and it makes for one perfect(ly awful) double feature. In "Bad Girls...," a young woman kills her janitor, comes to NYC and is attacked/seduced by practically every person she bumps into. A nice twist ending DOES mitigate some of the weirdness that precedes it. In "Another Day...," a woman with the hugest bouffant hairdo you've ever seen becomes a call girl to pay for her hubby's doctor bills. But these capsule descriptions can't possibly describe the level of sleazy teasing that these films are all about. While neither features ANY frontal nudity at all--odd, given the fact that Wishman's "Nude on the Moon," made five years EARLIER, was replete with nudity--the level of leering is not to be believed. Now I know what a raincoat-wearing old man in a 42 St. theatre in the mid-60s must have felt like. Trust me, you will need a HOT shower after watching these sleazy flicks. Lingering shots of a tossed-off brassiere lying on the floor are Wishman's idea of titillation. And her direction really does make Ed Wood look like Orson Welles. She seems incapable of shooting anything without including meaningless shots of inanimate objects. And there is no synchronized dialogue to speak of. As the "Psychotronic Video Guide" so rightly puts it, "it's a rare occurrence when a few words happen to match the lips." So why have I given these flicks two stars? Because you stare at your TV screen in utter disbelief, occasionally cracking up, and by the end realize that you HAVE, somehow, been entertained. And since neither film is much longer than an hour, the experience flies by pretty quickly. Thank God.