With such modern classics as Zombie Strippers, Stripperland, and Zombies Zombies Zombies: Strippers vs. Zombies, there seems to be a very specific trend occurring in the ranks of no budget horror films. Namely that of women who take their clothes off for a living facing off against the walking dead. One would think this insta-genre would fully utilize gore and T&A to overcompensate for the general cheapness of everything and everyone involved, but these masterpieces rarely live up to those immodest expectations. Strangely enough, the filmmakers tend to focus on the gore to the detriment of any sex appeal (such as there could be), much less character development, which misses the point entirely of the whole affair.
If you can’t write and you can’t afford decent effects or production value, go with boobs (or, apparently, penis) every time. Why bother with the whole stripper/strip club conceit if you aren’t going to show as much naked flesh as you possibly can?
By the looks of it, a new movie with a different paranormal wrinkle will most likely continue the trend. Which is probably why Strippers vs. Werewolves still lacks a concrete release date. Much of the promotional material for the non-ironic grindhouse flick gives the precise date of Winter 2011, but most sites I’ve conferred with say it will probably reach the U.K. by Spring 2012. If history proves repeatable, Robert Englund and the brunette Eastern European girl from Hostel will most likely end up on Netflix by this time next year, if not sooner, which is where it belongs. No self-respecting individual would actually buy a ticket for this sucker punch of a film. But there’s probably a few of us who would take a chance on it with some friends and some copious alcohol.
Here’s the trailer (surprisingly SFW):
The poster is moderately more respectable than the header image I chose:
And here’s the plot synopsis provided by Bloody Disgusting:
“JEANETTE, the club’s careworn owner, believes murdering customers is bad for business, so she orders the club’s bouncer to quietly dispose of the body. And there the matter should end … if Mickey hadn’t been a member of a bloodthirsty and vengeful pack of werewolves.
When Mickey’s corpse surfaces, JACK FERRIS, the werewolves’ charming and vicious leader, swears bloody vengeance and sends his pack out to hunt down the killers. Little does he know, Justice is actually the fiancée of his second in command, SCOTT. To make matters worse, Justice bites Scott during sex and now may be infected with the curse of lycanthropy herself.
Add to the mix werewolf BARKER, the masturbating man-child; SINCLAIR, the occultist with low self-esteem; and a bevy of the most beautiful women this side of heaven and you have the perfect recipe for balls to the wall, frenetic, skimpily clad, strippers on werewolves action-packed goodness.
STRIPPERS vs. WEREWOLVES - stripping has never been this hairy.”
“Careworn?” What is that? I don’t even… Ahem. While I don’t not appreciate a good bad film to riff on, and these types are exceptionally good for that, it all really just makes me wish Werewolf Nazi Women of the SS was a real thing. (Definitely NSFW, unless, maybe, you’ve got one of them light deflection shields):
Rob Payne also writes the indie comic The Unstoppable Force and tweets on the Twitter @RobOfWar. He doesn’t see any reason why Nicolas Cage wouldn’t actually make Werewolf Nazi Women of the SS. Have you seen Season of the Witch? It’d be a step up.