MONDAY, october 28 AT 8:00PM | GENERAL ADMISSION: $4 • LOFT MEMBERS: $3
Mondo Mondays celebrates the hard-working women of horror with a cheesy good tribute to some of our favorite SCREAM QUEENS, including Jill Schoelen, Monique Gabrielle, Caroline Munro and Linnea Quigley!
“They charge an arm and a leg!” Sporting one of the greatest movie titles of all time, Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers actually lives up (or down) to its lurid title, telling the charmingly entertaining tale of young women seeking entrepreneurial opportunities in the customer service field while simultaneously indulging their love of gas-guzzling power tools.
“How the hell can you pass up a movie with a title like this? If you’re a fan of B-movie horror/comedies, Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers will be right up your alley.” – Oh, the Horror!
Citizen Kane it’s not, but if full-tilt movie trash is what you crave, this overstuffed cinematic garbage bag will definitely get your chainsaw buzzing. Directed by the tirelessly prolific B-movie maestro Fred Olen Ray, Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers features legendary Scream Queen Linnea Quigley (Return of the Living Dead) as a sexy-n-sassy young runaway whose desperate dive into the Hollywood prostitution racket lands her smack in the middle of a demonic chainsaw hooker death cult, presided over by a gruesome guru played by none other than the original Texas Chainsaw “Leatherface,” Gunnar Hansen. As a seedy private dick investigates the mysterious increase in dismembered perverts littering the streets of L.A., the town’s bloodthirsty hooker population gets ready for the ultimate chainsaw showdown between cops and call girls. This goofy horror flick (which skimps on neither the bad acting nor the gushing gore) doesn’t bother to hide its exploitation agenda, and it delivers the naked goods with gusto. Amidst the plethora of severed rubber body parts, gratuitous nudity and overall insanity, we also get a body-painted Quigley performing the infamous “Virgin Dance of the Double Chainsaws!” Classic. (Dir. by Fred Olen Ray, 1988, USA, 75 mins., Rated R)