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Regardless of what one thinks of Lewis’s level of creativity, it is important to look away from those movies to gauge the true extent of the depravity in his artistry. She-Devils on Wheels was Lewis’s entry into the motorcycle genre fueled by Roger Corman’s movie, ‘The Wild Angels’. It was also the first film to make me think, ‘This might actually be the most pathetic movie I have watched’ as I watched various other bad films during in 1980s. In fact, there are so many more horrific movies made after that, all the way to ‘The Horror Show’ that Lewis directed himself. Each of these can be rightfully said to be worse than this film. But I guess when it comes to worst, or most horrible, the She-Devil movie always tops the list. The simple fluke was so boring it was vile, pointless and incontrovertibly off-putting. In fact, no builder suspects a stronger sleazy taste than the whore machinal shredder butcher. Getting bored of sleazy began hating that complete degree. Although I did lose hope pretty quickly, I stepped out of my comfort zone and pleaded to see such vile things in other works.
More often than not I hear people newer to this world explaining films in the ‘no plot, just vibes’ terminology. My youthful tendencies always make me hesitant to pick up phrases such as these used by the Extremely Online Youth (after all, there’s nobody less self-aware than a senior citizen who has no clue how out of sync he is), but it seems that this expression is quite appropriate to She-Devils on Wheels, if we make the concession that the vibes are indeed quite repulsive and disgusting. The entire film is little more than a series of moments from life about the Man-Eaters, an all-female crime motorcycle gang from one of the more unsightly, less touristy areas of Florida.
As much as there is a storyline, it depicts how Karen Christine Wagner, the group’s newest fully-fledged member, is grappling with the excess violence, crime, and other loveless forms of sex that the group’s aptly-named Queen leader Betty Connell has forced upon them. But what we primarily see is a little less than an hour and a half of improbably dressed females mash racing their motorbikes, engaging in some bizarrely Puritanish debauchery with weird Florida Men, and fighting some enemies, who sometimes include themselves. Oh and also making up indecent limericks and other sorts of bad poems on the spot. In fact, the Man-Eaters are as much into bad rhymes as Dolemite is.
Nonetheless, Vignette #1 depicts Karen’s relationship with an ungainly type by the name of Bill (David Harris), who happens to be her favourite among the rather intriguing biological features that try to get the attention of the girls that happen to lounge around the Man-Eater’s clubhouse at night. For each member of the gang, there is a loose hierarchy that defines how more interesting playmates are enlisted for the evening, and for the current order of things, there is a race that is held to see how they perform, which is how each gets chosen. But when she is given the free diet from the Young and the Noless, she always goes for Bill. Maybe she is smitten by the man. That would violate the Man-Eaters Code (wait are you saying these ladies are Jedi Knights?!), and some of Karen’s competition in the gang are beginning to raise nominal concerns about her behavior. The Queen herself for one, is growing rather impatient watching her constantly spoon with the same mouth-breather night after night, and she is at the head of her most disgruntled followers in initiating a small political trial.
Whether due to poor planning or overconfidence, the gang kidnaps Bill and calls for Karen to meet them at the now abandoned short-hop landing strip where they conduct illegal races. There, they give her an ultimatum: tow Bill behind her motorcycle across the runway or be towed by the other female racers herself. This is the first vignette of the movie, and since Karen’s distance from the rest of the group is the only theme that She-Devils on Wheels attempts to develop, it begs the question: how well does this situation work out for Bill?
Last but not least is the initiation of Honeypot (Nancy Lee Noble of Chesty Anderson, U.S. Navy and Jackson County Jail) into the gang as apprentice Man-Eater. Of course, Honeypot does earn her wings after beating out the competition and winning the race although it is quite amusing that they have to let her go first, otherwise, she is unable to keep up with the rest of the bikers on her weak little scooter. The initiation/ritual process involves the other girls stripping Honeypot to her underwear, covering her with various vile liquids, and then composing filthy limericks about her. She then gets handed over to the Florida Men for a statutory rape party.
Vignette #3 depicts Man-Eater’s chief enemy, which is, somewhat rather surprisingly, a gang of degenerates in the hot rod subculture led by Joe-Boy (John Weyner). Even in this cavalcade of misbegotten facial hair, Joe-Boy’s moustache stands out. The conflict begins when the hot-rodders, looking for a place to drag race, come across the Man-Eaters hunting ground and realize it would serve perfectly for their own wishes. When the Man-Eaters show up later that evening, they are furious seeing a band of males destroying their blacktop. The verbal conflict escalates to extreme violence and desecration of the defeated hot-rodders. Still, once Joe-Boy and his crew are done licking their wounds and washing the piss out of their hair, they’ll be back! Trust me on this one.
The last two sub-stories are combined in such a way that She-Devils on Wheels starts feeling like an ordinary movie for a few seconds. There is, on one hand, the hot-rodder’s revenge, the Man-Eater’s re-revenge, and the newly created worry of legal consequences for everybody involved, as the regional police tardily become active about the small gang war.
At the same time, one of Karen’s old boyfriends, a certain Ted, played by Rodney Bedell of The Gruesome Twosome, makes a mysterious reappearance. Ted used to date Karen well before she became the She-Devil on Wheels, and despite Ted swearing up and down that he no longer feels anything for Karen, it is clear that he still has a soft spot for her. He tries to help Karen out of her outlaw lifestyle, but given that Karen happens to be the most hesitant of the Man-Eaters, he might have some luck in the end.
The closing title card to She-Devils on Wheels stated ‘Whoever calls this THE END doesn’t know the Man-Eaters!’ Clearly this was strongly indicating a sequel. However, in truth, there were no credible chances to see a continuation. For that matter, there are no prospects that support the creation of a second part. Robert and Whitey (Pat Poston of Just for the Hell of It) did a poor job with their last rhyme and frankly speaking, I think that was the first epilogue of a movie that I have come across. This film is so poorly made that it seems almost unbearable to imagine a sequel and no one in their right mind would like to spend another 80 minutes with these people. On top of that, She-Devils on Wheels is an additional 25 minutes longer than his previous movie Blood Feast so I doubt the story pace is any better. And then there is the issue of character pacing and development. Since his previous movie, herschel gordon lewis has made no improvements which means his pace is terrible and character development in his and his main screenwriter Louise Downe’s new film, She-Devils on Wheels, is very small and overwhelming because of the sheer size of the cast.
A thorough comparison between She-Devils on Wheels and Stone or many other products of the biker movie’s late-60s to early 70s heyday reveals another critical defect in the film. In contrast to Harbutt, Lewis has on visibly deficient any affection towards, or even interest in the biker subculture that this movie supposedly is about.
To him, there is no difference worth commenting on regarding the outlaw bikers of his generation and any other group of delinquent youths at any other period and any other place. He cannot even muster a decent amount of ‘these kids nowadays!’‘ moral outrage, which would have at least lent She-Devils on Wheels, a tinge of alarmist flair like what was seen in Reefer Madness or The Violent Years.
Regardless of how much horror I watched, it was never enough to make me numb to it. And yes, I am aware of the fact that my weakness lies in my insatiable love for the gruesome. On the contrary, it is hard to argue that in the case of the failure of this movie, the blunders are more than obvious. It is important to remember, though, that by 1961’s standards, Herschell Gordon Lewis was a porn-turned-gore filmmaker. Coming up with novel ways to misbehave on screen was his bread and butter. Now, the reason as to why 1968 is relevant is because it was the same year She-Devils on Wheels was released, and the devasted remains of the Production Code were finally burrowed away in their tomb, Never to resurface again. So, how is it possible that these films are less gory than Color Me Blood Red and far less sexually satisfying than The Adventures of Lucky Pierre?
However, the one in She-Devils on Wheels is just as bad as the movie itself having a case of Herschell Gordon Lewis pacing. I am quite positive we see it more often, too even if it has been so many years since I made myself endure an episode of “Batman” so I am not going to swear to that. In any case, that biker gal is indeed very irritating, and every time she shows up is more annoying than the previous one.
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