Director: Frank Henlotter
Writers: Frank Henlotter and Robert Martin
Running Time: Eighty-five minutes
Starring: James Lorinz, Patty Mullen, Louise Lasser

Despite having a repeatedly lobotomized cycloptic brain in a fishbowl as a pet and a penchant for stimulating his own antebellum via drill-bit, Jeffrey Franken (James Lorinz) has somehow found time between his mad scientist experiments - performed in his future mother-in-law’s dining room, natch – to get engaged to lovely, if pudgy, Elizabeth Shelley (Joanna Ritchie). Tragedy strikes, however, at a family party during which Elizabeth unveils Jeffrey’s latest technological marvel, a remote control lawnmower so ominous in appearance that Elizabeth’s end is expected, even if when she’s julienned isn’t. Crushed by the loss of his love, Jeffrey collects what little he can find of her remains, drops them into basement fridge filled with bubbling estrogen and – after a romantic dinner with them – promises Elizabeth he’ll bring her back. All he needs is electricity – to be scored during a conveniently forecast thunderstorm - and some additional body parts to connect Elizabeth’s foot, hand, and head together.

Finding those parts involves a dozen hookers, a steroid-blasted pimp named Zorro and Jeffrey’s invention of a “super crack” that detonates after delivering its high. The search culminates in a pseudo-sex party during which Jeffrey dons a “play doctor” outfit and examines the pros looking for the gal with all the best parts. Unsatisfied with any single girl, Jeffrey’s stash of “super crack” is compromised when he’s not looking and, in one of the most glorious sequences ever to grace celluloid, the mad scientist gets his wish – all the best parts of each of them. Exploding hookers? This movie will have any b-movie junkie at “Hello.”

Elizabeth’s resurrection as a purple two-piece wearing goth-whore with the power to detonate those who come in contact with her vis-à-vis animated lightning rounds out the last third of this camp masterpiece from writer/director Frank Henlotter who is better known for the stunningly awful/wonderful bit of 70’s grue known as Basket Case. While Henlotter’s primary inspiration appears to be James Whale’s 1935 Bride of Frankenstein (Elizabeth’s reawakening on a lightning-juiced elevated platform seemed more straight-faced homage than mockery), he also pays respect to Stuart Gordon’s Re-Animator and evokes, in a surprising sequence involving discarded hooker parts, John Carpenter’s The Thing. Despite embracing many genre clichés, Frankenhooker largely feels original and zany, with unapologetic leaps into often-hilarious phantasmagoria, and Henlotter guides it skillfully through its anarchic paces, assisted by a spirited, wacky performance by James Lorinz (think Andrew McCarthy with a lot less Ringwald and a lot more Jersey) as Jeffrey.

If “super crack” were the reward, however, the two biggest chunks would be cooked up for two others from the Frankenhooker team: First, FX maestro Gabe Bartalos whose exploding hookers, severed breasts and morphed body parts didn’t so much strive for realism as they did for hilarity. And second there’s lovely Patty Mullen, who manages to pull off a funny, lively performance out of a dead assemblage of hooker parts and recycled dialogue. Mullen, a former Penthouse Pet with a thin resume of three movies ending with this title, seemed game for whatever she was asked, whether it was simulating sex with a chubby, balding John while sporting a check mark on her butt and rigor stained areola or - no doubt much more regrettably - donning the world’s worst fat suit under the world’s worst looking outfit to play Elizabeth in happier times. The actress shined in particular when portraying the titular character, all ticks and wide-eyed flinches under a dark blue Elvira hairdo. It was a shame to learn she didn’t do more acting, although the DVD release of Frankenhooker does include an interview with a still good-humored Mullen some nine years after the film was made.

While the cheeze factor of Frankenhooker is undeniable, it stands far better as an overall movie than one might assume given its foolish premise and modest budget. Veteran exploitation director of photography Robert Baldwin lenses Henlotter’s madness with an eye for vivid color combinations that recall the 1960’s Batman series sans canted angles. And Henlotter and co-writer Robert Martin (AKA, “Uncle Bob” – editor of Fangoria Magazine during its 1980’s heyday) don’t throw only schlock at the screen as there’s a particularly pointed (and knee-slapping) skewering of local news early on in the proceedings and then a comment on the foolishness of politically correct labeling when a prostitute uses HOOKER as an anagram for “Holding on to Our Knowledge of Equal Rights”. Yeah, it’s not Orwell in terms of social commentary, but this ain’t 1984 either.

Frankenhooker aims for the gutter with such earnest love for sleaze that it’s hard not to place it on a list of all-time favorite b-flicks. A cousin to Evil Dead 2’s variety of jet-black slapstick, the inanity of its storyline, the copious number of exposed breasts and its ability to keep one-upping itself until its satisfying, “O-Henry” conclusion all support placement in the macabre comedy canon. It’s a fast, dumb, fun and surprising bit of madness that goes highly recommended to anyone who can laugh at an exploding, crack fed hedgehog and a pimp that literally cattle brands his ladies like he’s a street corner gay blade.