The title alone should draw plenty of interest to Gold Digger Killer, but allow me to clarify that it doesn’t refer to someone killing gold diggers (sorry, fellas), but rather an accused gold digger killing disrespectful men. Despite the campy title, GDK is a “deadly” serious film that’s more topical than 99% of horror movies today. And if the opening scene, showing a woman performing a self-abortion on the toilet with a wire hanger doesn’t make that abundantly clear, then you should spritz some Windex on your spectacles.
Written by Jeff Carroll, co-writer of Holla If I Kill You, Gold Digger Killer is more of an exploitation revenge flick than a whodunit slasher in the mold of Holla…and with about four times the budget. Imani (Shatara Curry), the title character, is struggling to make ends meet after being fired from her job, and, receiving no help from her student (i.e., poverty-stricken) boyfriend, she tells him to kick rocks. Her gold digger girlfriends (who apparently belong to the local abortion clinic’s frequent buyers’ program) convince her to go to a club with them, where she meets a shifty playa named Flip (Esteban Lastra). Assuming she’s the sort of typical gold-diggin’ hoochie he’s used to dealing with, Flip proceeds to drug and rape Imani and invites a few of his friends along for the ride.
When Imani comes to, she thirsts for Aquafina and revenge. But mostly revenge. (“I am what you get for using your dick as a weapon,” she vows.) She starts off by killing those who assaulted her, then as her mind continues to scramble, she seeks out random playas to kill (I suppose the film could just as well be called Player Hater), and eventually she snuffs any man who looks at her cockeyed.
Gold Digger Killer portrays the vicious cycle between gold digger-itis and player-itis. Materialistic women tend to attract shallow, abusive men, and shallow, abusive men tend to attract women who will cut off their johnsons. This movie pulls no punches; when’s the last time you saw an abortion, a rape and a castration all vividly shown in a movie not starring Paris Hilton? It’ll even make you think twice about making cat calls or wolf whistles at random women, lest they be a “GD Killa.”
Granted, there are plenty of issues with the film — it’s rife with stereotypes, inadvisable poetry and stand-up performances slow down the pace and the budgetary constraints limit its impact — but GDK is still a solid low-rent film with a potent message: Wear a cup!
