Illusions of Rebellion: Doris Wishman's Bad Girls Go to Hell and the Transient Transgressions of Sexploitation Cinema
By Alicia Tang
Sexploitation films are characterized by their unflinching sensationalism of gratuitous nudity. Mainly directed by male directors such as Russ Meyer, David F. Friedman, and Joseph W. Sarno, these films tend to adopt a male gaze that seeks to eroticise, sexualise, and sensationalize the female form to arouse audience pleasure. However, in the wake of masculine direction and dominance, we find Doris Wishman, a female film director who boasts one of the most distinctive filmographies in sexploitation cinematic history. Upon first glance, her feminine sleight of hand may invite the reading of her sexploitation films as trailblazers of second-wave feminism that upend the dominating patriarch. However, a deeper analysis suggests that her films fall into the generic definition of a cult film, wherein “the viewer ultimately gains the double satisfaction of both rejecting dominant cultural values and remaining safely inscribed within them.” (Grant 2015) To that end, Wishman’s films present a transgressive veneer of championing female rights and equality. However, this act of rebellion is momentary, fleeting, and temporal, failing to spearhead any permanent movement and change. Through examining Wishman’s 1965 film Bad Girls Go to Hell, this essay will explore how Wishman’s exhibition of exploitation is far from rebellious or feminist, rather devoid of any ability to threaten dominant patriarchal ideology which is, ironically, what allows it to achieve cult status.
In Bad Girls Go to Hell, Wishman provides a seemingly transgressive framework for viewers to indulge in. The portrayal of rape centers on the female perspective, which acts as a refreshing departure from the conventional male gaze imposed upon female capitulation. Instead of the still shots that allow the audience to dwell and find pleasure in the abuse presented on screen as seen in conventional sexploitation films, such as Joseph P. Mawra’s Olga’s House of Shame, where parts of the bare female body are framed through closeup shots, Wishman couples the cinematography with staccato and choppy editing to portray rape as a deeply disorienting and traumatizing experience. In the beginning, when the landlord rapes Meg, the protagonist, Wishman, employs hand-held cinematography to heighten the force of his actions, intensifying the impact of his physical advances and evoking a sense of fear within the audience. The camera shoots from an unflinchingly close angle, at once stretching and distorting his features, likening him to a beast devoid of human qualities. The female perspective thus stands at the crux of the experience as the audience is positioned to feel Meg’s fear and trepidation. This is done through framing and composition, where Meg’s face is placed at the center of the shot, magnifying her expression of unease and discomfort. Subsequently, the low-angle framing of the landlord's face adopts Meg’s perspective as she finds herself underneath him, displaying her complete helplessness. The underlying soundtrack is eerie and haunting, reinforcing the experience as a completely terrifying and nightmarish one. Not only does Wishman pay meticulous attention to craft the horror of rape, she also illustrates the tragic aftermath of it: the camera follows Meg back to her apartment through a medium shot, lingering relentlessly as if forcing the audience to see Meg collapse onto the couch in tears. By showcasing Meg’s confusion and distress, Wishman traps the audience in a moment of guilt, highlighting how their pleasure was achieved at the expense of Meg’s trauma.
However, moments where the narrative is driven by the female gaze are transient as viewers are thrust back into the safe arms of dominant patriarchal pedagogy in the second and third rape scenes. Grant elaborates that “while it is true that cult films seem commonly to offer some form of transgression, what essentially makes these movies cultish, is their ability to be at once transgressive and recuperative, in other words, to reclaim that which they seem to violate.” (Grant 2015) This “reclamation” of normalcy begins in the second rape scene, where Meg is once again violently pinned down and stripped bare of her clothing by the landlord. Here, the camera becomes less spasmodic than it was in the initial rape scene, as if granting the audience permission to indulge and find pleasure in her unwilful nudity. The film begins to default back into the male gaze, where exploiting the female body is normalized. In the final rape scene, Meg is knocked unconscious by the rapist, which effectively buys him time to explore her body without struggle. The camera pans up and down her bare legs, which permits the audience time to indulge in her nudity whilst slowing down the tempo of the sequence. The editing too takes on a slower rhythm, crafted of merely eight shots after Meg is knocked unconscious compared to the terse jump-cutting of the initial scene. No sounds of struggle underlie the sequence, and the music is languid and legato. We stop moving through the narrative via a female perspective as subjective elements of Meg’s trauma and distress are strategically removed from the scene. In the final rape scene, Wishman seems no longer interested in the aftermath of the attack, starkly juxtaposing it with an emotionally numb Meg, who flees the home within seconds. In shortening scenes of Meg’s response to male violence, any sense of guilt that the audience may have felt for viewing Meg’s subjugation diminishes, ultimately placing erotic pleasure at the center of the experience.
Wishman’s world-building, where her films operate in a state of non-reality, effectively acts as a recuperative strategy that discounts and denies any of the progressive ideas the film initially spurs. Wishman’s editing style that juxtaposes shots of arbitrary inanimate objects between continuous shots, coupled with the caricature demeanor of her actors, where their emotional depths and line readings are, at best, stiff and shallow, creates a world where reality seems detached and unimportant. This is reinforced by the lack of diegetic sound, which creates an auditory void that must be filled by soundproof booth recording, cumulatively adding to the one-dimensional parodic world Wishman creates. Thus, none of the transgressive ideas Wishman presents can be taken with any sincerity or gravitas, as, ultimately, they seem to reside in an alternate, alien world. Such strategy, intentional or not, aligns with the Cult film’s tendency to seek refuge in dominant ideology after exhibiting subversive and counter-cultural ideas. It reduces the film’s rebellious feminism to a haze of non-reality, reflecting how the emphasis placed on the female gaze, or the exploration of homosexuality, is deeply abnormal and unintegral to the real world.
Wishman’s employment of a dream as the narrative frame serves as another retreat back into dominant ideology. In framing the film as a dream, Wishman places the cupability of rape out of the hands of the male viewer. Exploitation Historian Elena Gorfinkel posits that a key aspect of sexploitation films is their ability to “employ a rhetoric of ‘guilty expenditure,” wherein the consumption of erotica comes at a cost. The "proper" male erotic drive is often presented as comically inept or associated with deviance and perversion, which leads to eventual punishment. These strategies, as Gorfinkel posits, “distanc[es] the audience from any direct culpability or incrimination” (Gorfinkel, Lewd Looks, 97) for the sexual desires which these films arouse and appeal. The dream in Bad Girls Go to Hell seems to fulfill this exact purpose, disarming feelings of responsibility the male audience may feel for their erotic and hedonistic tendencies. Once again, the film operates as a fever dream that is far from having any real-life implications. By ending the film on a freeze-frame where Meg is on the cusp of being subject to rape again, Wishman denies entertainment of male violence in the real world. This allows the male voyeur a perfect escape from their own guilt as the rape scenes all unfolded in Meg’s dream-scape. Thus, in using the dream as a narrative frame, Wishman positions the audience in a bubble where guilt and accountability are tucked away and far removed. The audience is allowed to indulge in the erotic scenes from a safe distance, where their image of themselves isn’t tainted by their perverse enjoyment of erotica and sex. By divorcing the image from any form of connection to the real world, the male voyeur is protected, and the film retains its primary aim of catering to male pleasure, effectively recentering the patriarch as the dominant ideology.
Another way Whishman seemingly challenges convention is her exploration of homoeroticism. However, this subversion of dominant heteronormativity is once again temporary and ultimately undermined. Wishman portrays Meg’s sexual encounter with Tracy as an empowering one, providing Meg a brief moment of relief from rough and forceful male capitulation. Unlike the male abusers of the film, Tracy approaches Meg affectionately, gently stroking her hair or caressing her back. Then, upon realizing that Meg is uncomfortable, she stops and moves away. By pulling away, Tracy reveals an emotional desire for Meg that goes beyond physical lust. The significance of this act is highlighted through the sound design, where the drum beat intensifies into a fast-paced sequence, symbolizing Meg’s shift in attitude toward Tracy - her heartbeat literally accelerates in tempo. Tracy’s act of restraint evidently has a strong emotional appeal to Meg and sparks her sexual curiosity and fervor, so much so that she begins to mirror Tracy’s movements. The scene then becomes a sexual waltz between Meg and Tracy: as Tracy pulls away, Meg shifts closer. Their movement is unhurried and thoughtful, representing a mutual command and anticipation for the forthcoming interaction. The two characters are positioned side by side instead of on top of one another, reflecting a dynamic of equality. By not extending the scene any longer than 1 minute, Meg’s body is not sensationalized, sexualized, or exploited, effectively elevating their sexual interaction into a sacred experience that should be cherished and treasured. Cumulatively, Wishman suggests that relationships forged between two women, whether friendship or beyond, encompasses the possibility of joy, empowerment, and true equality that heteronormative relationships lack.
Although Wishman portrays the idea of lesbianism positively, which stands as a transgressive move within the socially conservative backdrop of the 1960s, the subsequent treatment of this idea diminishes its significance, relegating it to a transient and fleeting occurrence. This reduction ultimately reinforces dominant ideology of normative hetrosexually and, more poignantly, undermines the potential for sustained feminist exploration of lesbian identity and empowerment within the film. This is illuminated by the dialogue in the scene where Tracy poses the question, “Why are you leaving, you know I love you,” to which Meg responds, “I know I love you; that’s why I must go.”(Wishman, "Bad Girls Go to Hell") By having Meg immediately leave the house, Wishman denies any opportunity for the romantic spark between Tracy and Meg to develop into a deeper relationship, reducing their sexual encounter to a one-night stand. Once again, Wishman upholds her pattern of positing a transgressive idea, only to quickly retract it to return the audience to the comfort of dominant ideology.
A discernible pattern emerges throughout the film: the introduction of a transgressive idea, its amplification, subsequent avoidance, and ultimate dismissal. Although existing interpretations of Bad Girls Go to Hell show its feminist prowess amidst a time of patriarchal rule, a closer analysis reveals the underlying contradictions and limitations within the film's portrayal of gender dynamics. Wishman presents an illusion of rebellion, yet immediately retreats back to default mainstream culture, inscribing the audience within a world that upholds misogynistic values and patriarchal perspectives. It is for this very reason that the film achieves cult status but fails to be considered as truly transgressive.
