Attack of the 60 Foot Centerfolds (Fred Olen Ray, 1995) Review

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“You know, I have a funny feeling that you're not going to find 'giant woman specialist' in the Yellow Pages.” Think Land of the Giants, but in reverse, and with busty glamour models the size of buildings wrestling their way through Hollywood...

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“Does this look firm to you?” It's time for the 10^th annual Miss Plaything competition and the three finalists are all champing at the bit to get their perfectly manicured hands on the top prize, to be that year's highest profile centrefold, to seize fortune and fame. However, it won't be any ordinary competition this year, as Angel Grace (J.J. North, Vice Academy 5) has a trick up her sleeve. Formerly quite the Miss Plain Jane, her enrolment in the highly secret and experimental 'beauty enhancement program' has rocketed her into the flashbulbs of Plaything, the skin-baring magazine owned by Bob Gordon (John Henry Richardson, Bad Girls From Mars).

“No government! They'll come in here and take over everything, or worse – I could lose my grant.” With the competition heating up, rivals Inga (Raelyn Saalman, Babe Watch: Forbidden Parody) and Betty (Tammy Parks, Day of the Warrior) are baring their teeth and claws (and boobs, of course) to get any edge they can. Feeling insecure about her looks after one of Betty's blitzkriegs of bitchiness, Angel returns to Dr Lindstrom (John LaZar, Deathstalker II) to beg for another round of treatment.

Although reluctant, it doesn't take much persuading for Dr Lindstrom to acquiesce and supply her with thirty vials of blue science liquid – but with the explicit instruction to take no more than one per day. Naturally, as we all know, when someone is explicitly told never to overdose on an experimental serum, the test subject always does the sensible thing … oh, wait...

“What kind of vitamins is she taking?” Ensconced in Bob Gordon's mansion for the final round of the competition, Betty and Inga's plans to seduce their way to the top are frustrated by Gordon's girlfriend/maid/golf caddy, the fiercely jealous Rosita (Nikki Fritz, Beach Babes From Beyond), who's quite adept at wielding meat cleavers, shotguns, and even chainsaws to ward off any scantily-clad models with designs on her hubby. Speaking of sleaze, lust-driven photographer Mark (Tim Abell) is desperately slithering his way from bedroom to bedroom looking to score with the promise of dripping a 'favourable word' into Gordon's ear in order to sway the final result, much to the repulsion of nerdy assistant Wilson (Ted Monte), and the naïve acceptance of Angel. Better just chug another vial of the blue juice, or maybe a few more … what could possibly go wrong? It's not as if there's any human-sized lab rats on the loose back at the lab or anything … oh, wait...

“You're much prettier than Godzilla.” Despite the promising title, Attack of the 60 Foot Centerfolds never truly manages to live up to the premise. It gets close, yet there's a magic spark missing, but that's not to say there isn't a good share of fun to be had along the way. Directed by Fred Olen Ray (Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers) and written by Steve Armogida (Bikini Drive-In), the film manages to wedge boundary-breaking scientific experiments conducted on stormy nights, an Invisible Man gag, and gun totin' scientist Dr Joyce Mann (the always charming Michelle Bauer, Sorority Babes In The Slimeball Bowl-o-rama) in between all the forced-perspective trick-photography and bared boobs (be they normal sized or comparable to a Volkswagen).

“Help me, I'm huge!” The plot is as thin as the characterisation, but cartoonish gags are scatter-gunned across the screen, especially when the likes of Vic Stryker (Peter Spellos aka G. Gordon Baer, Sorority House Massacre II) turns up. When one of the giant lab rats escapes – via an over-sized cartoon mouse hole in the wall – the scientists call in an exterminator, a cigar-chomping badass in rat skin boots wearing a bandolier of mouse traps and sporting a Trivial Pursuit-like wedge of cheese on a giant hook. 

There's plenty more goofy gags to be had, too, when Angel suddenly finds herself 'fully grown', her footsteps akin to T-Rex stomps, her sneezes like hurricanes, and full-size bottles of Jack Daniels rendered into aeroplane miniatures in her hands. Indeed, the whole film is only really half a step away from a Loony Tunes cartoon, such as during Rosita's introduction, which sees her carrying a mountain of luggage through a maze of bear traps, snakes, and abandoned rollerskates. There's even an appearance by Russ Tamblyn (Twin Peaks' Doctor Jacoby) as a wild-eyed gas station attendant awaiting a return visit from space aliens.

“Oh my God! Look at the size of those tits!” Despite all the fun, though, there's no escaping the underwhelming style of the film's bright, flat lighting, which all-too-often makes it look like a cheap daytime soap opera. Furthermore, while the third act does its best to live up to the title's promise, there's no denying that it's somewhat of a muted climax, the conceit never fully exploited for all its worth. Sure, there's a photo shoot where a water tower stands-in for a bathtub, a scene where a giant tranquilliser gets tossed like a dart into someone's arse, and the pleasingly daft sight of two kaiju-sized glamour models in shredded bikinis fighting their way through the streets of Hollywood, but Attack of the 60 Foot Centerfolds never feels like it truly gets into top gear. Less than the sum of its parts, it's not without its scattered charms.