For me, H.G. Lewis movies have always been a mixed bag. Sometimes they're a lot of fun and sometimes they are excruciating. This would fall in the latter category.
The story involves a sheisty band manager (and "whitey mack" wannabe), Boojie Baker (played by Dan Conway), who goes from one garage band to the next, forming them into a profit for himself. The type of manager who believes in taking as much credit and percentage as possible and leaving his band with virtually nothing. Conway turns in a good performance, yet considering the repetitive nature of the plot and several other elements, it becomes grating.
Boojie's first group gets the hint right away, when he tries to screw them out of their earnings, and they proceed to take a hike. He bounces back and hits the jackpot, with his next anti-stellar group of morons. A group that continues to get conned over and over by Boojie's transparent tactics, until 10 minutes towards the end of the picture when they finally discover an escape clause (an escape clause being a metaphor for a small rock on the same gravel road they've been traveling on all along).
H.G. Lewis' films were never known for great music, and this one might have the worst. If you thought the theme from "JUST FOR THE HELL OF IT" sounded like "White Rabbit" performed by an orchard of adam's apples liquefied in a blender, then you ain't heard nothin' yet. Wait until you hear Boojie's band, The Big Blast, pump out the same song over and over and over and over. Not even a song really, just a chorus that's sung so many times that it literally sounds like a broken record. Here's a taste... "The next time that you want me, I won't run to you. The next time that you need me, I'll tell you that we're through. The next time, the next time, the next time that we're through(?!)" Just imagine hearing that same jam session in nearly every other scene. Not since Jean-Luc Godard's "SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL", have I seen a film that thrives on such lyrical overkill.
What's even more grating is that the band members never truly gel with one another and the music suffers because of it. At times, it seems as if each member is singing different lyrics to the same chorus, all at once. For example, when they're singing "...the next time...", it sometimes sounds like "...run and hide...". And, in a more interesting number, "Go BLANK Yourself, My Friend", some of them sing "Go BLANK Yourself, A Friend". My initial thoughts were that this was a band of non-actors attempting to perform music, when in fact, according to the credits, this was a real band. Ugghh.
In conclusion, if you want a far out ride that contains little emphasis on girls and couldn't provide a spark with a dry match in a hay barn, then "THE BLAST-OFF GIRLS" is for you! Otherwise, I'd recommend Arch Hall, Jr's "WILD GUITAR", which deals in the same subject manner and is a lot more fun to watch.
The story involves a sheisty band manager (and "whitey mack" wannabe), Boojie Baker (played by Dan Conway), who goes from one garage band to the next, forming them into a profit for himself. The type of manager who believes in taking as much credit and percentage as possible and leaving his band with virtually nothing. Conway turns in a good performance, yet considering the repetitive nature of the plot and several other elements, it becomes grating.
Boojie's first group gets the hint right away, when he tries to screw them out of their earnings, and they proceed to take a hike. He bounces back and hits the jackpot, with his next anti-stellar group of morons. A group that continues to get conned over and over by Boojie's transparent tactics, until 10 minutes towards the end of the picture when they finally discover an escape clause (an escape clause being a metaphor for a small rock on the same gravel road they've been traveling on all along).
H.G. Lewis' films were never known for great music, and this one might have the worst. If you thought the theme from "JUST FOR THE HELL OF IT" sounded like "White Rabbit" performed by an orchard of adam's apples liquefied in a blender, then you ain't heard nothin' yet. Wait until you hear Boojie's band, The Big Blast, pump out the same song over and over and over and over. Not even a song really, just a chorus that's sung so many times that it literally sounds like a broken record. Here's a taste... "The next time that you want me, I won't run to you. The next time that you need me, I'll tell you that we're through. The next time, the next time, the next time that we're through(?!)" Just imagine hearing that same jam session in nearly every other scene. Not since Jean-Luc Godard's "SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL", have I seen a film that thrives on such lyrical overkill.
What's even more grating is that the band members never truly gel with one another and the music suffers because of it. At times, it seems as if each member is singing different lyrics to the same chorus, all at once. For example, when they're singing "...the next time...", it sometimes sounds like "...run and hide...". And, in a more interesting number, "Go BLANK Yourself, My Friend", some of them sing "Go BLANK Yourself, A Friend". My initial thoughts were that this was a band of non-actors attempting to perform music, when in fact, according to the credits, this was a real band. Ugghh.
In conclusion, if you want a far out ride that contains little emphasis on girls and couldn't provide a spark with a dry match in a hay barn, then "THE BLAST-OFF GIRLS" is for you! Otherwise, I'd recommend Arch Hall, Jr's "WILD GUITAR", which deals in the same subject manner and is a lot more fun to watch.