Doctor G y su máquina de bikinis

Under the leadership of veteran producers Samuel Z. Arkoff and James H. Nicholson, American International Pictures was a shark in the fishpond of American trash flicks. While other trash production companies collapsed over the decades due to the changing moods of the audience, AIP kept going and never ceased to try new things. The Dr. Goldfoot franchise came about when the studio was on the hunt for lucrative new concepts as previous fads, particularly Poe adaptations, were in their death throes. At that time, AIP tried to go the route of modestly lascivious, madcap comedies, in which they stylishly recycled the studio’s older hits. Pajama Party (1964), for example, builds on youth exploitation flicks and How to Stuff a Wild Bikini (1965) is reminiscent of earlier biker movies. The first Dr. Goldfoot both recalls the virtues of these beach farces and simultaneously exploits the Poe tradition, while also making fun of its rival, the newly established Bond franchise. The result is a playful farce with a magnificently overacting Vincent Price as a Bond-calibre evil scientist who creates luscious artificial beauties whose task is to enchant the rich and deprive them of their fortunes. Following the example of the above-mentioned films, there is also a mix of insipid attractions with heavy-duty slapstick comedy in which the older, fading star oversees the silliness of the younger actors. But unlike the sad sight of Buster Keaton in the previous films, Vincent Price throws himself into his role with tremendous verve, thanks to which the first Dr. Goldfoot is a wonderfully entertaining farce. (27.12.2022)

Vincent Price is such a legend to me that I enjoyed this film, which sometimes isn't as delightfully crazy as it pretends to be all the time. Sometimes there's just a bit too much talking. But overall, the idea intrigued me - after all, making robots so that they can do the dirty work is beautifully crazy. The plot, however, is rather mediocre in the end. (02.01.2017)