Tough guy Mike Hammer (Mickey Spillane) is instantly cured of his alcoholism—because that happens—when he hears information that may lead to the killer of his ex-lover and secretary. Ex-friend, Captain Pat Chambers (Scott Peters) wants the info too, as does FBI agent Arthur Rickerby (Lloyd Nolan), but Hammer goes it alone. He knows the murder tied up with a commie plot, and a dirty red assassin called The Dragon. Yes, I said “commie plot” and “dirty red assassin.” Luckily, there’s only one suspect, the beautiful and always bikini-clad Laura Knapp (Shirley Eaton). Well, I suppose the entire secret commie underground, that’s all around us and ready to pounce, could count as a suspect too. Damn dirty commies!
When I need a plumber, I call an electrician or a baker. Hey, it’s all work, and they should be as familiar with work as a plumber. If I really want a good job, I hire a metallurgist, since he’d know about the material substance of a pipe. What more is needed?
I’m thrilled to see this same philosophy was at work in the casting of The Girl Hunters. Why hire an actor to act when you can hire a writer…to act? And not just any writer, a really bad writer. It gives the film the feel of authenticity; you know, like it isn’t a film at all, or even entertainment.
Yes, after several attempts to bring tough-guy Mike Hammer to the screen, novelist Mickey Spillane takes over the role of his hero, and demonstrates that understanding a character doesn’t help if you lack the skills to portray him. Spillane is a bad writer, but he is a writer. He is no kind of actor at all. Spillane mumbles the wrong words, pauses or rushes randomly, and never shows an emotion that matches what he’s saying. He fails in so many ways, but the funniest is with his sex appeal. Mike Hammer is a real lady’s man. Crude and rough, he has a primitive charisma that the girl’s love. That’s the idea anyway. But Spillane may be the least charismatic man to ever grace the silver screen. He seems to be slightly disfigured and suffering from some mild mental retardation. That Shirley Eaton could recite lines indicating her desire for Hammer without snickering should be enough to earn her an Oscar.
Eaton (best known as the painted girl in Gold Finger) is the only thing right about The Girl Hunters. She’s lovely, and it doesn’t hurt she spends most of the time in a swimsuit. She also turns in a credible performance. Alas, she’s alone in that. Scott Peters overacts, continually gritting his teeth and huffing as he speaks. Lloyd Nolan, the film’s biggest name, phones it in. I would be surprised if he was on set for more than a day and even more so if he read the script. I suspect he was fed his lines right before the camera rolled, and after his scenes he was off to cash his check. And in case it wasn’t clear that ability had nothing to do with casting, columnist and friend of Spillane’s, Hy Gardner, plays himself. I hope he’s a better columnist.
But it wasn’t just the acting that had me mesmerized, my mouth hanging open and my eyes wide. No no. There’s more. So much more. There’s the story. Hammer is out to get some commies who have an evil plan to take over the world. You see, the reds are everywhere, and they’re a sneaky bunch. That’s fine, if they happen to belong to Spectre, but it’s a little hard to take seriously. Hammer never does any actual detecting. He just falls into one violent situation after another until his not-so-climactic fist fight with the assassin. (Spillane’s lack of acting ability extends to fights). As for the fate of Hammer’s secretary, we’re never told. Did they run out of film stock? She might be alive. She might be dead. I thought it was important to the story, since everything revolves around her. Guess I was wrong.
The directing is pedestrian and the music rarely fits the moment, but who cares? With its threadbare story, characterizations so false, and acting reaching new lows, The Girl Hunters is one of the worst films ever made. Any additional flaws can’t make it any worse.