Strip Killer

My review was written in June 1987 after a screening at Cine 2 theater on Manhattan's 42nd St.

"Stripped to Kill" is a solid little thriller set in the world of topless dancing. Nearing the end of its regional theatrical run, pic is likely to do well in the home video market on the basis of its exploitation angles.

Kay Lenz stars as a policewoman in L. A. assigned by her partner Greg Evigan to go undercover, posing as a stripper to catch a serial killer of dancers at a local club. She gets a dancing job from club owner Norman Fell after winning an amateur sriptease contest there with help from an audience stacked with off-duty cops.

Scripters Katt Shea Ruben (former actress who also makes her helming debut here) and Andy Ruben play fair with the audience, offering legitimate clues and red herrings regarding the killers identity. Solution to the whodunit is ingenious; though very difficult to guess even by the alert viewer it is satisfying.

Lenz, firmly established as a sexy screen presence 15 years ago in her debut in Clint Eastwood's "Breezy". Is extremely effective here, faking several stripteases which substitute acting for professional dancing. Director Ruben stylizes the frequent strip sequences, using stylish pastel lighting effects and elaborate, acrobatic choreography by Ted Lin to create more traditional burlesque routines than the strictly sex approach. A cast of maily pro dancers perform well, ditto support roles by Evigan and Fell plus a funny turn by Diana Bellamy as a taciturn lady at police headquarters.

What happens when you hire a competent female writer/director to make a low-budget T&A horror-thriller with a strip club setting? You get compromise, and a kind of tug-of-war effect between exploitation and realism. While this one has a more-than-generous amount of T&A and violence, it should also be given credit for delivering a gritty, credible and often unflattering look inside a strip club and the women who populate it. The dancing is explored for all its worth and from all possible angles; exploitation, entertainment, eroticism, even as art. Some of the dancers view their occupation as being a way to express themselves through dance while others think of it as just a paycheck for another night's work. A few are lesbians, some have drug problems, most have criminal records and a few even seem like reasonably well-adjusted women who find stripping unpredictable and exciting.

The club itself is so atmospherically represented that you can almost smell the cigarette smoke in the hallways. The door of the girl's dressing room, the congregation place where the girls change, bitch about customers, reflect on their lives and pasts, etc., has "Women" scratched out and "Sluts" amusingly spray-painted over it. Much of the dialogue between them is laced with cynicism, no doubt based on a life's worth of problems, failures and disappointments. All of the girls are given just enough personality to be likable and what seems seedy at first eventually turns into a somewhat accommodating place for outcasts of all types once the heroine of this film gains employment as one of the dancers.

The heroine is question is a reserved tomboy policewoman played by Kay Lenz, who goes undercover at the club when a serial killer begins targeting the strippers. Sure, we've seen this exact same plot many times before (at least I have), but this movie takes it a step further. Not only is Lenz trying to crack the case but her character is learning and opening up in the process. This assignment allows her an outlet from the male dominated police force and the opportunity to explore her femininity and sexuality. She also discovers an odd kinship and inner working between the women and gets a little too involved on a personal level. It's an interesting role and Lenz (a sorely overlooked actress over the years) is great in it. And yeah, she does several nude scenes and looks great doing so, but it's a thoughtful, very good performance that doesn't rely on her couple of nude scenes to be memorable. Norman Fell also has a great supporting role as the no-nonsense club owner, who's every bit as dry and world-weary as his girls.

The biggest gripe I see about this film is that there are too many dance scenes and they're too long. This is no doubt just filling producer Corman's quotient of T&A for direct-to-video profit. Well fine, we get the naked girls and get the stripping. Plenty of each. What I don't see usually pointed out is that the dance scenes themselves are entertaining. They usually incorporate some interesting props (motorcycles, fire, a giant spider web...) or have a specific theme and with the lighting mixed in, it does come off as performance art at times. In addition, you can tell the women hired in these roles are actually either professionally trained dancers or actual strippers (or ex-strippers) because their stage performances incorporate flips, splits and a flexibility that requires dance training. The soundtrack is full of dated 80s-style rock, usually with a female vocalist, but it's tolerable. The biggest gripe I had with the film is that the slasher movie plot seems almost an unnecessary afterthought. I was far more interested in the everything else that was going on that I almost lost complete interest in who was actually killing the strippers.

Without question, Katt Shea Ruben is one of the most talented writer-directors Roger Corman employed in the 80s and 90s. She was one of the few with the ability to transcend the formulaic material and anemic budgets to create films that are distinctive, thoughtful, personal and interesting. And like many other notable cult/underground directors, she has never, and may never, receive much recognition or attention, and that's a true shame. I especially recommend her films DANCE OF THE DAMNED (1988; an intriguing and original vampire film which has sadly slipped into obscurity over the years) and STREETS (1990; a grim drama/thriller starring Christina Applegate). While STRIPPED TO KILL might not be as impressive as the aforementioned films, and a bit more weighted down and padded out, it's still a bright starting point for the director and well worth checking out.

A whiskey stream of consciousness review

Opening strip dance sequence is impressive skill. If only the opening song lived up to it. What?! Is that a Mr. Roper sighting? Outstanding. Mr. Roper owns the strip club. So that's where he went when he gave up being Jack tripper's landlord.

Movie includes a few extended strip sequences. Some of the sequences are of poor quality. Probably poor transfer from vhs maybe? As told film progresses, however, their routines grow more and more elaborate. All of the girls are quite talented and show off well. Kay Lenz is excellent as the undercover detective hero and downright cute and tough. And Greg Evigan is also good as punky sword-pierced ear ringed partner, Detective Heineman and their chemistry is surprising considering the low brow subject matter. Heineman drives a Suzuki Samurai- which is also a plus. I'm honestly surprised this doesn't have more of a cult following. There are heaps of entertaining moments, titillation, and a few grisly horror scenes to keep you interested to make up for the few slow takes. Stripped down with a dram of Old Soul select. Cheers!

Female police detective Cody Sheenan (Kay Lenz) goes undercover as a pole dancer to try and find out who has been killing the girls working at the Rock Bottom strip club (where all the profits are funnelled into elaborate stage props, smoke machines, neon signs and lava lamps).

With Stripped To Kill, director Katt Shea Ruben proves that women are just as capable of making voyeuristic exploitation as men, her debut film loaded with gratuitous female nudity solely designed to titillate the viewer. The majority of her film consists of expertly handled stripping scenes that benefit from glossy photography and stylish lighting, the girls showing off their toned and extremely flexible bodies in well choreographed dance routines.

While Cody is on stage proving that she has a rockin' bod to rival even the hottest stripper, her designer-stubbled partner Detective Heineman (Greg Evigan) is on the beat trying to track down suspect Mr. Pocket (Peter Scranton), a weirdo who has an obsession with the Rock Bottom performers.

Starting with the brutal immolation of one of the strippers and closing with a revelation that shouldn't come as much of a surprise (those who don't figure out the twist should be extra wary when chatting up women), Stripped to Kill is slick, consistently entertaining trash, unlikely to win any awards, but fun enough for the duration.

6.5/10, rounded down to 6 for the unnecessary romantic subplot between Sheenan and Heineman which is only there to pad out the runtime, and the fact that a couple of the girls qualify as butterfaces (nice legs, shame about the boat race, as The Monks used to sing).

STRIPPED TO KILL examines the dark, dangerous world of pole dancing. Yes, there are scantily-clad and half-clad women dancing around, on, and up and down poles.

How could this possibly be hazardous?

Well, firstly, there are the injuries that could be incurred through all of that gyrating and wiggling! Whiplash is a definite concern! Worst of all is when a psychotic killer is on the loose, with a particular hatred of poles and their dancers.

Enter Detective Cody Sheenan (Kay Lenz), who goes undercover at the Rock Bottom strip club, run by the world's grumpiest owner (Norman Fell). Obviously, Cody must audition for a job at the club. In spite of being the worst pole dancer in the history of either poles or dancing... she nails it! Her act has a sort of slow-motion, performance art thing going on. Can she catch the misogynistic madman before more poles are left without partners?

If you actually believe that a movie that's called STRIPPED TO KILL could be a serious take on either stripping or homicide, then you are in for utter disappointment. However, if you're looking for a movie with just enough of a plot to justify nearly non-stop topless frivolity, then heaven has come for you! The ludicrous, brain-imploding "shock" finale is laugh-out-loud bananas! Whew!...