Attack Of The 50 Foot CamGirl

Jim Wynorski has been cranking out B-movies for nearly four decades. While some of his films have garnered cult status, most of them are known by his fans and few others. Now, he’s teamed up with the only person in independent cinema who’s as constantly working as he, the indomitable Charles Band. Their collaboration, as evident by the title, Attack Of The 50 Foot CamGirl, harkens back to the early days of cheesy cinema, specifically the 1958 charmingly goofy Attack Of The 50 Foot Woman (for the record, the remake is awful in all the wrong ways).

Written by Kent Roudebush, the film follows successful cam-girl Beverly Wood (Ivy Smith), whose husband, Bradley (Eli Cirino), is also her business manager. Unfortunately, numbers are down, and they are seeking a way to reinvigorate the brand while also expanding Beverly’s reach. To that end, some unscrupulous scientists have been hired by Bradley to create entirely lab-grown, 100% sustainable food. However, after eating some of it, the food has unintended consequences, causing Beverly to grow to around 50 feet in size.

“…the food has unintended consequences, causing Beverly to grow to around 50 feet in size.”

This helps Beverly’s videos and streams gain traction, but with an unforeseen problem. Bradley has been fooling around with his wife’s assistant, Fuschia (Christine Nguyen), and has slowly been stealing the business from under her. Fuschia’s a part of this because Beverly is always curt and rude with her, while Bradley is just greedy. Will Beverly’s newfound notoriety allow her to retake control of her life, or is it already too late for the now-giant cam-girl?

Wynorski pitches Attack Of The 50 Foot CamGirl as an utterly daffy affair. No part of this story takes place in the real world, nor do any of the characters live there. But, if the movie’s overly broad, almost cartoonish universe does not turn one off, then there’s a silly, good time to be found. Most jokes are quick, but most of them are not quick-witted. For example, at one point, Beverly tells Fuschia that she’s “empty,” referencing her drink. The assistant replies, “Indeed you are, Beverly.” This is a punchline at the supposedly dumb blonde’s nature and is about as smart as the script gets. But it’s also obvious and only slightly amusing.

The more out-there comedy, such as the scientists being pleased that their “non-organic, completely organic, non-GMO, entirely genetically created” carrot looks like a carrot, fares better. The more absurd the humor, the more successful it is within the confines of this 61-minute farce. The ongoing gag involving cosmopolitans has a great payoff.