Movie Review: Suicide Girls Must Die! (2010)

I’m not a huge fan of reality shows. I find them ridiculous, useless exercises in pointless melodrama. And, for the record, most of them are scripted in some fashion. On the other hand, I like the Suicide Girls. For those of you not familiar with them, these ladies are a group of ‘alternative’ (read pierced, tattooed and angry) nude models with a huge cult following, lucrative subscription website and, now, a couple of feature films under their belt (if they wore clothes). I don’t find the Suicide Girls fascinating due to their nudie model status, but I appreciate and encourage the outright angst and derision for ‘normal’ ideas of beauty. That kind of attitude is sexy. The reality show concept and the Suicide Girls combine in Suicide Girls Must Die!, billing itself as “the first reality horror movie.” It’s an intriguing concept that promises a great deal of areola, but, as all reality shows must go the film devolves into an unbelievable mess. On the plus side, though, the mess is naked.

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The viewer is really never sure just which of the Suicide Girls is in on the joke. Matriarch, Amina Munster, certainly is as is the credited director, Sawa Suicide. Other than that, it is tough to tell. There is a credited writer on the film, but that writer didn’t spend much time on the incredibly complex plot. Let me lay that out for you: Suicide Girls arrive for a calendar shoot. Suicide girls get naked. Suicide Girl disappears. Suicide Girls argue. Insert: Hot Tub Make-Out Session. Suicide Girls shoot calendar. Suicide Girl disappears. Suicide Girls argue. Insert: Hot Tub Make-Out Session with fewer Suicide Girls. Suicide Girls get drunk, rinse and repeat. So it stands to reason that the “writer” of Suicide Girls Must Die! wrote the same scene over and over again, or he just photocopied it and changed the character names.

It’s the reality show concept that really throws the monkey wrench into the birth canal. Some of the girls suffered through some very real emotional trauma (they don’t act that well) while, a scene later, the girls are on a boat trying to escape or walking down a road trying to escape the mad killer without acknowledging the film crew that is, obviously, filming them. Girls disappear and, for the most part, the remaining Suicide Girls really don’t care… they press on with the calendar shoot under the thumb of Amina, who is, of course, behind the whole charade. Some of the girls, like Amina, Sawa and Fractal Suicide have some acting experience (stints on CSI: NY and the remake of Wizard of Gore) but some of the emotionally intense moments in the film are beyond the pale in regard to their acting ability. What we are left with is the following: this is supposedly a horror movie where every death happens off camera, the story is redundant, women make out in a hot tub after drinking way too much and some of the actresses in the film may not even know they are being filmed. That sounds more like a pretty good fraternity party and less like a feature film. Unless, of course, you’re the Suicide Girls… in that case, it’s an average weekend.