Bad Girls Go To Hell (1965)


Bil’s rating (out of 5): BBB

USA, 1965. . Screenplay by Doris Wishman. Cinematography by . Produced by Doris Wishman. Film Editing by .

One of the most popular provocations of exploitation specialist (and later full-on adult film director) Doris Wishman, a film whose poor production qualities (including very badly synched audio dubbing and a tireless public domain music soundtrack) only add to its cheeky charms.

is sympathetic as a beautiful housewife whose hunky husband goes to work on a Saturday despite her desire that he stay home. After puttering around her apartment in a glum mood, she decides to straighten a few things up, and while taking the garbage out runs into the building’s gruff janitor who assaults her.   After she defends herself against his violent attack, she becomes afraid for what will happen to her if anyone learns of her deed, or worse, is afraid that her husband will think she gave in to the man willingly.

She packs a bag and gets on a train, leaving Boston and heading for New York where she walks the streets without a dime in her pocket or a friend to call her own. A man picks her up in Central Park and takes her home, treating her kindly as she becomes his unofficial housewife, but she finds out the hard way that whiskey brings out his cruel side. She runs into a woman who installs her in an apartment with her female friend, but the new roommate’s sexual advances cause our heroine confusion and she decides to leave again, finally catching a break and finding a job as assistant to a “semi-invalid” woman living alone in her apartment.

Alas, that comes with a twist as well, as every situation has this vibrant and amenable young woman installed in a cramped domestic setting whose limitations always spell bad news for her.

The bad acting is almost an artform in itself, and while the film is set up as merely an excuse to see various buxom ladies in various forms of undress (Wishman gets as close to nudity as the censors would allow) there is a kinky, creepy atmosphere to it that feels like it’s the stag film cousin to Carnival of Souls, or future David Lynch.

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