I watched Herschell Gordon Lewis's Two Thousand Maniacs. I listened to the commentary.
They kept saying that they were in it only for the money. They sneered at the auteurs. But I hear that Luc Moullet talked mostly about how about how cheaply he worked, too. It was about the only thing Lewis and Dave Friedman had to talk about.
Lewis pointed out that the lyrics of the songs were more spoken than sung, and that was because Lewis himself did the vocals just so they wouldn't have to pay anyone.
The horrible bratty kid (Vincent Santos) was a perfectly nice boy. He took direction. Connie Mason couldn't drive well and damaged the car they borrowed from a dealership.
They didn't mention any difficulties. It all sounded perfectly pleasant. An oddly inoffensive pro-Confederate gore movie.
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