Buxotic Bonanzas and Social Rhetoric: The Life and Films of "B-Movie" Director Russ Meyer

Jared DuBach
Violence, it seems, is one of the pivotal attributes to a film's success or failure, especially in modern cinema. Humans by nature are beasts consumed with notions of personal conquest and the coveting of material goods by force if need-be. The other pivotal factor is that of sex. When we combine the two, the concept of violent sex and sexual violence play back and forth, particularly when we examine some of the most influential and controversial film by the late director, Russ Meyer.

Born March 21, 1922, Russ Meyer was the child of a nurse and a police officer in Oakland, California. Meyer's enthusiasm for filmmaking began in high school when he produced some amateur films, which would be equated to one's own home movies. However, during World War II, Meyer enlisted in the Army and was placed in the signal corps where he produced some of the most captivating and dangerously procured stock footage ever shot by the signal corps. Some of Meyer's footage was even licensed for use in "Patton."

But it was also during this time that Meyer's other fascination, top-heavy women, came to full fruition. In high school, Meyer ogled over blossoming lasses, but in Paris his fate was sealed when and ambulance driver by the name of Ernest Hemingway introduced him to a prostitute with among the largest mammaries he'd ever seen. His fate was sealed.

Upon returning home, he got jobs with corporations such as Gulf & Pacific to shoot documentary and educational footage in order to make ends meet. As moral standards in society began to loosen and publications such as Playboy, Modern Man and Adam started up, Meyer was placed in a unique position to fulfill his two passions: Hot women and captivating photography.

Working with some of these models also got him involved with San Francisco's growing striptease scene, which would later evolve into the sex show scene in the '70s. In his first foray into nudity and the female form as a motion picture subject, Meyer produced "The French Peepshow" (1950) for an area topless bar owner looking for a reel to send out to promoters and to sell in men's magazines as a stag reel. Unfortunately, Meyer inquired about the film in the '80s and the theater owner's ex-wife stated that after he'd left her, she'd burnt all his belongings, including the only print of the "French Peep Show."

Still, Meyer knew he was onto something. In 1959, Meyer directed and produced "The Immoral Mr. Teas," starring an old war buddy, Bill Teas as a bumbling dental appliance delivery boy who has often serendipitous and humorous encounters with secretaries and beach bunnies. While the film doesn't do too much as far as intriguing storyline (Nudie Cuties of the type rarely did), it did manage to become the first color film depicting full female nudity. Crowds went wild, making a hefty profit for Meyer and his investors. This film was followed up by "Eve and the Handyman," (1961) starring Meyer's wife at the time, Eve. Meyer had met Eve as a pin-up model and their relationship escalated from there.

At this point, it's worth mentioning that Meyer suffered from a condition some people refer to as an "over-active sex drive." If Meyer saw a woman he liked, he made no hesitations on pursuing said wench. As a rule, though Meyer forbade sex during the filming of his movies by not only himself, but also his cast and crew members. But his "over-active sex drive" would eventually wear thin and burst the bond he and Eve had. Eve helped produce several of his early films and continued to do so even during their hardships. Even though they hard their own issues, Eve knew that with Russ, the money wouldn't be too far behind.

When Meyer began to grow tired of the same boring Nudie Cutie-style film, he opted to change things up and began to introduce serious social commentary and address issues such as spousal abuse, adultery (interestingly enough) and the precursor to the woman's liberation movement. This era however marked a desperate and dark time for Meyer. With each film, he produced what could be considered a carefully produced, quality production and yet the audiences never seemed to see it that way until more modern times. Audiences still wanted to see Nude Cuties like David Friedman's "Goldilocks and the Three Bares" for example.

With "Lorna," (1964) Meyer dared to produce a movie about a young couple suffering from martial problems of a largely sexual nature. Lorna, played by model Lorna Maitland, just can't get satisfied by her young husband. The show's over before it even starts, so to speak. A grizzled, old preacher serves as a sort of prophet or harbinger of doom upon the young couple, as he spouts forth passages from the Bible referring to Sodom and Gomorrah.

This also marked Meyer's foray into black and white photography. While his imagery is remarkable and the use of textures and shadow are superb, Meyer admitted that the only reason he did it was because the money from "Teas" and "Handyman" were running dry. They would continue to do so even through the starchy adaptation of "Fanny Hill," (1964) the tale of an English country girl going to the big city for work in a "hat shop" which doubles as a brothel. Even to his death, Meyer denied he'd ever had anything to do with it, even though his editing style is fairly prominent throughout.

"Mudhoney" (1965) faired the same, depicting the duality of man's ego. The beast and the saint all in one were exemplified through the use of a hard-luck drifter and an abusive alcoholic husbands during the Great Depression. The year 1965 would prove to be a tumultuous one, as "Mudhoney" and his now legendary and best known for film, "Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!" were produced alongside the biker, teen gang flick "Motorpsycho!"

While "Faster Pussycat" is arguably the sexier of the films, complete with its ribald use of lesbianism and references to bisexuality as an alternative to suffering in a stiffly hetero life. Complete with cantilevered beauties Tura Satana, mainstay Haji and Lori Williams, "Faster Pussycat" just didn't take off like its counterpart, "Motorpsycho!". "Motorpsycho!" as it seems has two things "Faster Pussycat" didn't. One, the movie has young biker dudes out to get torn up. Secondly it discusses the inefficiency of the judicial system and the slow working of law enforcement. When a country veterinarian's young wife, Angel, is attached by marauding bikers led by a returned Vietnam vet, it's up to him to settle the score and make them pay for raping and brutally beating his wife. The film also addresses the issue of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder with vets coming home from the war, making it a prolific piece for its bravery to address such serious subjects while also being bold in its use of sexuality for entertainment's sake.

"Motorpsycho's" success gave Meyer the jumpstart he needed to keep producing quality pictures, but as he went back to color, he found that something was missing. While his attendance did improve, his films lacked serious subject matter and came off as elaborate soap operas chock full of beautifully heaving bosoms. But he knew he was in trouble and sought to produce the most controversial film of his career. A film that would go on to be banned in cities across the United States and be his first to achieve the "X" rating, "Vixen," (1968) introduced the devilish Erica Gavin with her painted-on eyebrows, fascination with lesbianism and even her twisted obsession with her brother Judd that results in something only people in some of the southern states may be familiar with.

Needless to say, this film pushed the envelope on everything. Heck, the envelope flew right off the table and into the raging inferno of parent's groups and censorship boars. What did this mean for Meyer? It meant dramatically increased attendance numbers and even high ratings of repeat moviegoers.

With this films success came a deal with Twentieth Century Fox for a sequel to "The Valley of the Dolls." However, the author threatened to sue, so it was only loosely based on the original and ended up being called, (1970) "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls." Because it showed in theaters Meyer's other films were strictly taboo in, Meyer's name reached household status. His use of artistic nudity, open sexuality and cartoonish carnage seemed wild and crazy to the average moviegoer, but to the seasoned fan, it was all in a day's work.

When he was signed on to do another film for Fox, "The Seven Minutes," (1971) which was an adaptation of the Irving Wallace film, he was forbidden from using any frontal or rear nudity. They wanted a clean film, oddly enough, about the evils of censorship. They got what they wanted and it was a colossal flop. Fox lost its money and Meyer was cut loose from his contract.

It would be some time before Meyer would make any movies that would get the attention he wanted or deserved, let along make any films at all. Finally, Meyer came up with the perfect scheme: Make a series of films that dealt with the best and worst of both sexes, cast leading heroines with massive chest melons, cast strong, burly male types and mix with equal parts violence, sex and adult comedy. His first of the series, "Supervixens" (1975) was a smash. With Charles Napier as a murdering cop and Shari Eubanks and Uschi Digard as the voluptuous heroines, Meyer has a surefire winner on is hands. But "Supervixens" was more than just another nudity-filled, comedic sex romp. It was a retrospective on his characters he'd created along the way, only "super" versions of them, such as SuperAngel from "Motorpsycho!" and SuperLorna from "Mudhoney."

"Up!" (1976) starred Raven De La Croix as Margo Winchester, an undercover FBI agent investigating the murder of reclusive German entrepreneur, Adolf Schwartz (who looked oddly like Adolf Hitler while he was getting reamed up the derrière). A strong female lead in a positive role up against the evil tyranny of the men in a logging town was just the thing to keep the series going.

"Beneath the Valley of the Ultravixens" (1979) marked the end of an era. It was the end of concept of nudity for artistic and titillation's sake. As the '80s came into play and the advent of the video age struck Hollywood, video cassettes meant the movies could be made and sold even without theater release, which gave the porn industry its explosive appeal. Hardcore porn, which is something Meyer rejected for decades ended up being his undoing, as more and more people rejected his films for something that would go all the way. Monstrous breasts and the occasional bush were no longer seen as viable entertainment to the majority of grindhouse attendees.

With "Beneath the Valley of the Ultravixens," Meyer depicted a couple where both people were willing to do what it took to make their marriage work. He also stipulated that sometimes it's both parties in the relationship that have the problems and blame, as it seems, can be spread to both partners. While Meyer knew how relationships ought to be in an ideal world, it seems as though Meyer failed to be able to reproduce the desired effect in his own relationships, having been divorced not only from Eve, but from Edy Williams who starred in "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls."

Meyer produced only one other film toward the end of his life, the mostly unknown "Pandora Peaks" (2001) centers around big bust model and dancer Pandora Peaks, while introducing a plethora of other models such as Tundi Horvath and featuring narration by Meyer and former Meyer gal Uschi Digard. While it helped shed some light on Meyer's psyche it achieved little other than attempting to harken back to a time when big boobs were king in dark and greasy peepshow halls.

After suffering for years from increasing dementia, Meyer finally succumbed to the call upon his mortal soul on September 18, 2004. He left behind him a legacy of films that pushed the envelope. Meyer also made the public and the censors accept nudity as a fact of life as well as examine some of the issues in their own lives played out in his films.

Published by Jared DuBach

I'm a 29-year-old graduate of Southern Illinois University at Carbondale, IL, where I studied news-editorial journalism and minored in anthropology.  View profile

  • IMDB.com Woods, Paul. "The Very Breast of Russ Meyer." Greene, Doyle. "Lips, Hips, Power: The Films of Russ Meyer."
  • Russ Meyer is largely credited for starting the trend of nudity in major motion pictures.
Russ Meyer credited war buddy Ernest Hemingway for helping him "lose his virginity" in Paris during World War II.

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