Early in National Lampoon's Gold Diggers, there's a moment in which hapless small-time crook Chris Owen attempts to snatch a purse and inadvertently snatches the owner's prosthetic arm, as well. Any comedy historian searching for the exact moment when the Farrelly brothers' influence hit rock bottom would be wise to single out this gag, but they could just as easily point to the entire film.
Inexplicably hitting the big screen when even a direct-to-video burial would be too merciful, Gold Diggers casts Owen and pasty, bloated former teen idol Will Friedle as orphans turned hapless crooks. After getting thrown in the slammer for committing crimes in increasingly unfunny ways, the dimwitted duo spies a potential goldmine in a pair of ostensibly wealthy older women (Louise Lasser and Renée Taylor), the voracious progeny of a contraceptive mogul. Lasser and Taylor, however, have a sinister scheme of their own, involving marriage, insurance policies, and ultimately murder.
Originally titled Lady Killers, this rancid, underlit B-movie aspires to little more than cheap laughs eked out of the discomfort and queasiness Owen and Friedle feel over sexually servicing assertive, kinky old women. Revulsion toward sagging flesh, liver spots, and wrinkles underscores many of the film's gags, tethered to a shudder of adolescent horror directed toward the notion of aggressive female sexuality. That's only slightly undercut by Gold Diggers' late-period revelation that maybe the old broads aren't so bad after all, along with some refreshingly humane performances from seasoned pros Lasser and Taylor. A long way from her early films with then-husband Woody Allen, Lasser lustily attacks her role with a veteran trouper's unabashed self-confidence, while Taylor gives her wallflower a damaged fragility that Gold Diggers doesn't know how to use. Forget trying to measure up to the likes of Animal House: Gold Diggers is dire enough to inspire nostalgia for the period when National Lampoon attached its brand name to the likes of Van Wilder.