| Janine Lenon | ... | Ginny Smith (as Djanine Lenon) | |
| Steve Hollister | ... | Detective Johnny | |
| Joanna Mills | ... | Ann | |
| Fleurette Carter | ... | Angela | |
| Ted Gelanza | ... | Gus | |
| Tony Palladino | ... | Louis | |
| Robert Barker | |||
| Adrienne Mann | |||
| Sharon Green | |||
| Marlene Stevens | ... | Pat | |
| Ann Rutherford | |||
| Lucy Becker | |||
| Art Miller | |||
| Stephanie Anders | |||
| Lisa Simpson | |||
| Rick Widmark | |||
| Fredrica Daniels | |||
| Anthony Rocco | |||
| Pete Dejoia |
Directed by | |||
| Anton Holden | |||
Writing credits | ||
| Anton Holden | (screenplay) & | |
| Ray Jenkins | (screenplay) | |
| Anton Holden | (story) & | |
| Richard B. Shull | (story) (as Richard Shull) | |
Produced by | |||
| Lee Hessel | .... | associate producer | |
| Ray Jenkins | .... | producer | |
Original Music by | |||
| Edmund Mitchel | |||
Cinematography by | |||
| Gideon Zumbach | |||
Film Editing by | |||
| Anton Holden | |||
Production Management | |||
| Lisa Schwartz | .... | unit production manager | |
Sound Department | |||
| John Fodor | .... | sound | |
Camera and Electrical Department | |||
| Dallas Garvin | .... | head grip | |
| Ray Jenkins | .... | director of photography: exteriors | |
| Bob Morton | .... | camera operator | |
Editorial Department | |||
| Mark Rappaport | .... | assistant editor | |
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| The Kiss of Her Flesh | The Curse of Her Flesh | The Dead Girl | Freeway | Foxy Brown |
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| Full cast and crew | Company credits | External reviews |
| IMDb Horror section | IMDb USA section |
A sicko in a suit kills bad chicks, then has sex with them. A typically depressing b/w NY "roughie" has lots of no-sound segments with bad jazz, cool city locations, lots of long street-walkin' scenes with hookers and (police) dicks, along with unusually well-drawn characters for a skid-row quickie, sleazy hostile johns, psychotic bartenders and hookers with heart. This flick is full of cool, tangential scenes, like a hooker-lesbian's long-winded exposition, and a great scene where man and wife both flirt with cheating (the man falls, the wife don't). In the end, the deceased hookers' pals gang up on the killer ala "I Spit on Your Grave" and give him his own medicine, and the Freudian symbology comes full circle: the killer, who was driven to crime by an abusive slut-mother, finds surrogate mothers to abuse, and who eventually kill the little boy in him, which is what he always wanted. All in all a cool flick about a subterranean world of Damon Runyonesque losers like one might stumble upon at the Oyster Bar at Grand Central. An ironic Times Square sign mocks the raincoat-hugging audience: "Get more out of life; Go to a Movie!"