The line between human and animal gets a little blurry in Terror Is a Man.
Terror Is a Man, which premiered in the U.S. today in 1959, was at the vanguard of the many grindhouse movies that would be shot in the Philippines (our former Asian headquarters), a wave that would crest during the mid-1970s with so many bad (but occasionally bad-good) features. It’s about a sailor who survives the explosion of his ship and washes up on an isolated Pacific island named Isla de Sangre—uh oh! Living there is a doctor who’s secretly experimenting with man-animal hybrids. If this rings a bell, yes, it was inspired by H.G. Wells’ novel The Island of Doctor Moreau, but it was shot cheapo style, like so many old movies made in the Philippines. However, cheap doesn’t always mean incompetent. Francis Lederer, Greta Thyssen, and Richard Derr are just-this-side-of adequate actors for a b-feature, and the film looks good, with decent sets and exteriors, nice lighting, good weather effects, and even real night-for-night shooting.
When Derr, the stranded sailor, takes a liking to the doctor’s wife Thyssen, she confesses that she wants to leave the island on the next supply boat. He offers to help, as well as provide, er, corporeal comfort. It’s rather funny how he edges his way into her personal space over a couple of days, like, “I’ll just innocently lie uninvited on this beach towel with you.” Meanwhile he learns more about the doctor’s experimentation—especially his creation the terrible Panther Man—and decides it goes against the laws of man, nature, ethics, good sense, gentlemanly conduct, and so forth. You know this abominable situation cannot stand. Will the doctor’s life work be ruined at the hands of Derr, the claws of the Panther Man, or some other calamity? We can’t say Terror Is a Man is good, but apart from a couple of unconvincing efx it’s well made, so we have to recommend it to vintage sci-fi/horror buffs—at least for late screenings with friends. And drinks. And sundry. Enjoy.
You ever try to put together a jigsaw puzzle but never quite succeed?
These two posters were made to promote the Italian horror flick Lady Frankenstein. Both were painted by Luciano Crovato, who you can see more from by clicking here. We were wondering whether it’s possible Cravato the artist is the same person as Luciano Cravato the actor who appeared in almost thirty films between 1975 and 2006. Since transitions from other fields into acting are common, we think it’s a possibility. But the timeline isn’t perfect. As an artist, Cravato worked beginning in the 1950s. It could still be the same person if he got into acting late, say in his forties, but the few times we’ve seen him he appears to be a little younger than that. Maybe someone in Italy can solve that one for us.
Lady Frankenstein revolves around Baron Frankenstein’s ambitious daughter Rosalba Neri, who has always wanted to be a surgeon like her dad. She returns home from university, having graduated first in her class, a licensed medical practitioner, to join her pops in his transplant research. She warns him that her ideas are more radical than his. But unbeknownst to her, daddy has moved on to radical means too, paying graverobbers for bodies and attempting to transplant the human heart and brain. He gets the opportunity to perform his most hopeful experiment yet, but because the brain he uses is damaged what results is a murderous monstrosity that kills him and escapes into the countryside.
Considering the fact that it’s daddy Frankenstein who brings the monster to life, what exactly makes this movie appropriate to be titled Lady Frankenstein? It’s because Neri decides to create a second creature with a properly functioning brain, physically strong enough to kill the first monster. She convinces her father’s assistant, who’s in love with her, to allow his brain to be transplanted into the body of the Frankenstein estate’s mentally disabled but handsome handyman. We’ve seen men give up a lot to get laid, but never their brains—at least not literally. The experiment actually works out okay, but then there are suspicious cops and a clan of restive villagers to worry about. Alas.
We wanted to like Lady Frankenstein because we’re fans of Neri, but the movie progresses at a similar pace as its shambling, embryo-headed monster. Neri was clearly cast to sexualize the title role, but even she can’t bring much heat to this cold production. Luckily, we’ll be seeing her again, because she was in a lot of movies. As a side note, one of the more prolific European character actors of the era puts in an appearance here. He showed up in two-hundred and eighty-five movies and television shows. His name? Herbert Fux. Love it. Lady Frankestein premiered in Italy today in 1971.
This is the poster used in Spain to promote John Carpenter’s seminal horror flick Halloween, retitled to La noche de Halloween. The movie opened in the U.S. in limited cities on October 25, 1978, then went into wide release October 27. It premiered in Spain one year later, today in 1979, in limited release, before a nationwide opening October 28. The date, though, was a coincidence. Except for Canada, in no other foreign country did it premiere anywhere near Halloween. As the film marched around the world month by month, Spain’s turn just happened to come in October. Back in 1979, almost no Spaniard would have known anything about Halloween. In fact, many probably learned about it from the movie.
These days, nearly half a century later, Halloween is fairly recognized here in Spain and a few kids dress up, even in our little corner of the country, but it’s mainly an occasion for a small percentage of adults to throw parties or hit the bars. In fact, we’re using the day for that very purpose. After a little Halloween themed revelry in our house, we’ll hit the village watering holes for costumed fun. It will be the first time most of our friends have ever made public spectacles of themselves. These bars are cool, by the way, so don’t picture little holes in the wall—one of them is a terraced joint with a panoramic view right out of jet-set nirvana, another is a converted horse stable, and another is a deconsecrated church. Should be pretty fun.
He thought “L'orgia dei morti” meant “killer orgasm.” Boy was he disappointed.
Sometimes you get in the mood for ’70s euro-horror. The bug struck us last night, so we watched L’orgia dei morti, for which you see a poster here painted by Averado Ciriello, aka Aller. To get right to it, Stelvio Rossi (credited as Stan Cooper) is traveling through wintry mountains circa 1900 to claim an inheritance from his deceased uncle and comes across a woman hanged from a tree in a village cemetery. When he reports it to the police he becomes a murder suspect. He takes up residence in his uncle’s—you guessed it—creepy old manse, of which he’s now owner, along with all its problems. Among these are the staff, his uncle’s beautiful widow, the scientist who has a lab in the basement, and—we’re guessing here—immense heating bills.
People in the village are generally cowed by weird goings on and rumors. For example there’s a local belief that the dead have orgies in the cemetery. Maybe, but in terms of non-zombie activity we see early on that the gravedigger Igor—any movie with an Igor is going to be weird—collects the bodies of women and stores them in a crypt. Yuck. The cops soon find his stash of ladies undies and nude corpse photos and decide he’s probably the killer. A fair enough assumption, if circumstantial, so they try to arrest him. But Igor, who like other Igors seems to suffer from physical disablement of some sort, can actually scuttle along quite nimbly when the occasion requires, and gives the coppers the slip. He’ll be back.
He was a weak suspect all along, actually. Igors are never masterminds. You know who are? Scientists in basements. The hamlet’s problems may in reality be rooted in the doc’s research into “nebular electricity.” Read that as: reanimating the dead. In time-honored horror movie tradition Rossi is more determined than the cops to find answers, and they’re right in front of his face but he’s a rationalist. If there are creepy folk walking around he thinks it’s due to catalepsy or hypnosis or some other mundane cause. Hey, whatever gets you through the night. One of those nights the answers will come to him—and he won’t like them. No indeed. L’orgia dei morti premiered in Italy today in 1973.
Look at you in your silly vest. Capes, my man. It’s all about capes now.
The tremendous dent in my forehead? It’s from a pox I picked up last spring.
Ordinarily I’d say their deathly pallor marks them as the undead. But then we all have a deathly pallor around here, so…
I despise these crypts. Maybe I should rent a studio in town.
Blackenstein is exactly like its monster—put together without a coherent plan.
This offbeat poster was made for the blaxploitation/horror flick Blackenstein, aka Black Frankenstein, which premiered sometime this month in 1973. Nobody is sure on that point. Regarding the poster, since no website we’ve visited for info about the film has bothered to identify the model, we’ll do it—she’s Marva Farmer, who also makes a brief appearance in the film, though she probably wished she hadn’t. She made two other movies then called it quits. Or maybe the movies quit her. Either way, this poster is her star turn, destined to make Farmer cringe every time she thinks about it.
Blackenstein follows John Hart as a research doctor named Stein who has been working on a method for grafting limbs onto amputees. The research is promising enough that Ivory Stone, playing a nurse whose boyfriend Joe De Sue lost his arms and legs to a landmine in Vietnam, signs on to help. Early experiments yield successes, but Stein’s Igor-like assistant Roosevelt Jackson has eyes for Stone, and when he’s rejected, out of spite he swaps some chemicals, with the subsequent injections turning De Sue into a lumbering monster. An angry and bloodthirsty one. Cue the swiftly fleeing victims who De Sue somehow catches and kills anyway.
One of those victims, interestingly, is infamous mafia consort Liz Renay. This experience probably taught her that being associated with a terrible film is like being associated with the Mafia—it follows you to your dying day. And you know who else plummeted into low budget purgatory? Andrea King, of vintage crime flicks such as Southside 1-1000 and Dial 1119. She needed to dial N-E-W-A-G-E-N-T. Still though, the bosom of blaxploitation was welcoming to all fallen movie stars, which was a feature, not a bug. The lucky ones ended up in movies to be proud of, like Anthony Quinn in Across 110th Street. The unlucky ones… hoo boy.
To come to the point here, if not for Ivory Stone, who’s ridiculously cute, Blackenstein would be unwatchable. We could give you many examples why. Consider the fact that De Sue’s transition from a guy in a hospital gown to a guy in a black suit and clunky shoes is never addressed. Where did the suit and shoes come from? He’s flat on his back in Stein’s facility, then he’s dressed like an undertaker. Suffice it to say that the filmmakers must have thought “continuity” meant to keep filming no matter how disjointed the movie became. They succeeded on that front. But otherwise, Blackenstein is a cinematic procedure gone totally wrong.
So Marva, remember that release you signed to be in this movie? We want to give you a little extra exposure by making you the star of a sweet promo poster.
Well, here I am with no arms or legs. But I can hack it.
Remember before Vietnam, Joe, and the landmine? How you used to love fondling my beautiful breasts and picking me up and sensually fucking me while holding me in mid-air and walking us around the apartment, and we’d start in the kitchen but finish in the bedroom, where you’d orgasm so hard your legs quivered? Then afterwards I’d give you a footrub, then you’d whip up Chinese food in your wok, and we’d feed each other with chopsticks, then throw peeled grapes in each other’s mouths, and afterward you’d juggle six balls at once to amuse me, or sometimes even tap dance, then we’d finally cap off the night by doing the standing sex thing again? That was always so wonderful… Talking about this isn’t making you sad is it?
No. *sob* I’m fine.
Ivory, would you like me to graft a larger penis on Joe while I’m doing all this work? I have a couple of extras around here somewhere.
I have a funny feeling that guy isn’t thinking scientific thoughts right now.
Let me explain to you the technique for achieving the perfectly symmetrical afro.
I have no sexual interest in Ivory whatsoever. I guess that makes me a mad scientist.
I love you, Ivory. I think about you all the time. I want to fondle your beautiful breasts and pick you up and sensually fuck you while holding you in mid-air.
Stop it! It’s the thing I want most in the world, but no—I’m devoted to Joe!
*sigh* I really hope Joe’s new additions work. That XL penis the Doc found looks like the cure for what ails me.
Certain types of trees can thrive even in extremely hot environments.
In order to make a 1950s horror or sci-fi movie, basically you needed a monster costume. That’s about it. From Hell It Came, which premiered today in 1957 and for which you see a promo poster in three sheet format above, has a very good monster. Too bad the rest of the movie is so very bad. It’s a half-baked tropical drama with two main plot threads: an unjustly killed tribesman vows to return as a revenant called the Tabonga; and several do-gooder doctors are in the area trying to eradicate a plague. The tribesman actually does come back—and the Tabonga turns out to be a living tree. See below:
A lot of ’50s monsters looked like two dudes under a shag rug, but this Tabonga is pretty scary. Which is why it’s absurd that when the doctors find this abomination growing in the native graveyard they bring it back to their lab, probe it with stethoscopes and poke it with needles, utterly baffled—but in no way terrified—that the hideous thing has a vaguely humanoid form and a heartbeat. They really deserve to die, but they don’t. Because it’s the 1950s. Various natives get croaked, though. Because it’s the 1950s.
From Hell It Came is as wooden as its malevolent tree. It’s at least a six beer movie—that’s the absolute minimum you’ll need to make it enjoyable. Everything is off with this cinematic calamity. The script is atrocious. The music is insane. And all the natives are white. But maybe it’s actually good that not a single tribal role went to a person of color. If they had, the movie would be seen today as intolerably bigoted. It’s still cringeworthy, but at least no brown SAG members had to sacrifice pride and credibility to earn a meager paycheck. Our recommendation: Don’t see the forest or the tree.
Hi, humans. Bad movie, no doubt, but a small point in its favor. As you know, we bears like to rub our butts on trees. The Tabonga would make a nice rubbin’ tree.
Something fishy's going on in that secretive government research facility.
Many movies partly or largely imtitative of Jaws were released in the wake of Steven Spielberg’s paradigm shifting waterborne adventure-horror flick (we categorize it more as adventure than horror because it’s very much like Moby Dick, though it does have good jump scares and an excellent atmosphere of dread). Piranha is one of the imitators.
The movie premiered in the U.S. today in 1978. It’s pure Velveeta not worthy of a review (synopsis: government efforts to create cold water piranha to be used against the Viet Cong are discontinued; the breeding stock is accidentally released from its holding pond and into a river; people are gnawed and/or eaten).
We’ve shared the awesome poster above because the art is by John Solie, whose efforts for blaxploitation and sexploitation movies such as Shaft’s Big Score and The Swinging Barmaids we’ve highlighted numerous times. He did a bang-up job here too. Click his keywords below and scroll to see everything we have on him.
Hey guys, Angela here. Very impressive teeth on that fish, I gotta say. Looks tasty too. So, um, maybe this is a non-sequitur, but are you planning to watch those Cocaine Bear movies at some point? Really curious about those.
She's like a he-creature but works twice as hard for half the credit.
It looks like a scary Christmas in July with these red and green posters for the sci-fi/horror movie The She-Creature, which premiered in the U.S. today in 1956. Obviously these old moster movies are hit and miss. For every winner—Creature from the Black Lagoon, for example—you get a total loser—Creature from the Haunted Sea comes to mind. But the potential for entertainment is considerable within this sub-genre, so we keep watching them.
The She-Creature is about a slimy psychic played by Chester Morris who predicts that an ancient manifestation of a prehistoric female “from the beginning of time, huge and indestructible” (he forgot “angry that it has fewer rights than he-creatures”) will emerge from the ocean to transmigrate into the body of a living woman. When two murders occur he tells the police that this entity was the killer. There’s seaweed scattered around the crime scene, so the cops are baffled.
For his psychic demonstrations Morris uses a subject played by beautiful Marla English, who does so against her will, controlled by hypnosis. When wealthy businessman Tom Conway gets wind of their act he butts in and tells Morris he can earn a lot more than currently—with help, of course. Morris is willing, but insists his monster dysphoria routine is no act. Conway is all, “Yeah, yeah. That’s the stuff. Stay in character. The big lie. That’s what sells.” They come to an accord. The cops remain baffled.
Morris, working in private now, puts poor Marla into another trance and sends her back in time to, we don’t know, maybe inhabit the ancient she-creature’s form. The monster then physically emerges from the ocean, and Morris—who is its summoner, after all, and can seemingly boss it around—instructs it to kill an annoying carnival barker who’s been sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, then pick up a couple of hamburgers, some cheese fries, and a large Coke at Hardee’s. Well, not really. What actually happens is, accordingly, the barker is found dead, and the cops are baffled.
Here’s what baffled us—why did Lance Fuller score the lead role in this tale of monster madness? He’s awful. He’s probably the main reason the movie was skewered by the wits of Mystery Science Theater 3000 in 1997. Just look at him, above. That’s his standard facial expression. In 1968 he attacked a cop, was shot in the chest, and barely survived. We have it on good authority the cop provoked the incident—he asked Fuller if he’d ever in his entire career taken an acting class.
On the plus side, we’ve seen far less convincing efx in mid-century sci-fi and horror, so at least the movie has that in its favor. In addition, there’s an effective atmosphere throughout. Plus, there’s English. When all else fails, you can look at her. Unfortunately a good monster, good atmosphere, and a good-looking lead actress aren’t enough to make the movie good. You can probably pass on The She-Creature—or alternatively, you can watch the MST3K version.
This Italian promo poster was made for Il dottor Jekyll, which is of course better known as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and features Spencer Tracy in a bravura performance in what is a really good movie. It premiered in Italy today in 1948. You can read our detailed thoughts and see a nice Finnish poster here.
Update: We got an email about this one from GWR:
Big fan of your blog, I read it almost everyday. One quibble with today’s post if you don’t mind a bit of pedantry. That Jekyll and Hyde poster is for an Argentine film called El extraño caso del hombre y la bestia. From 1951, directed by and starring Mario Soffici.
Oops. We committed the dreaded IRE™—internet replication error. Clearly, the poster doesn’t list Tracy as the star, but it was on an auction site with the wrong info. What can we say? We get in a rush sometimes, what with our jobs, and girlfriends, and social lives. We’ll leave our error here anyway as proof that even we’re human. The poster we meant to share is below.
In Chinese ghost myths, as well as those of other Asian countries, there’s a folkloric creature that takes the form of a cursed woman’s floating head trailing gory, dripping internal organs. It bites people with its long fangs and drinks their blood to sustain itself. As curses go, your head flying off is a pretty rough one. It’s amazing that this concept goes back to antiquity, because it’s pretty damn gruesome to even contemplate. Because of that, Fei tou mo nu, made in Taiwan and known in English as The Witch with Flying Head, doesn’t have to do much more for success than make the flying head realistic enough for suspension of disbelief.
That happens, alright, though barely, and everything else follows as smoothly as entrails. The woman in question, high born lady Hsiu-Chen Chen, is tricked by sorcerer Shang-Chien Liu in the early moments of the film, given a magical poison. Why does Shang-Chien curse Hsiu-Chen? He wants to marry her. Clearly, trust, honor, and respect would not feature in such a union—could she ever really forget being coerced into marriage? And as for him—could he ever set aside the fact that his wife had sucked the bodily fluids of numerous men? They’d both have to enter the relationship in a spirit of forgiving past transgressions.
A powerful magician is brought in to protect Hsiu-Chen, but he discovers that the head does more than fly. It breathes fire too. He’s defeated in due course, learning too late never to turn his back on a flying head. Seems like that would be in the sorcerer’s manual on page one, but whatever. Hsiu-Chen and her two faithful servant ladies next move to the wilderness so the head has nobody to suck on. Think that’ll work? Of course not—even in the countryside people wander haplessly by to be drained. Luckily beneficent old mages with useful talismans are not as thin on the ground in the middle of nowhere as you’d presume.
Fei tou mo nu is entertaining despite itself. Its main flaw is that its last twenty minutes veer into grating, intergenerational melodrama. Still, we bet the cultural relevance of its premise helped it to earn well in Asia at the time. Its other traits—it’s cheap, garish, ludicrous, and overacted—make it a perfect U.S. style grindhouse feature. If it ever reached American cinemas those must have been uproarious showings. Seems like it could be adapted into a modern, gory, body horror masterpiece. We’ll patiently await that, Hollywood. Or Bollywood. Or Y’allywood. Anywood—just get on it. Fei tou mo nu premiered in Taiwan today in 1982, but we’ve shared its Thai poster because that’s the best one available.
World famous big band leader Glenn Miller, who was flying from England to Paris in a small plane, disappears over the English Channel. One theory holds that his plane was knocked down by bombs jettisoned from bombers passing high above after an aborted raid on Germany, but no cause of his disappearance is officially listed, and no trace of Miller, the crew, or the plane is ever found.
1973—Getty Heir Found Alive
John Paul Getty III, grandson of American billionaire J. Paul Getty, is found alive near Naples, Italy, after being kidnapped by an Italian gang on July 10, 1973. The gang members had cut off his ear and mailed it to Getty III, but he otherwise is in good health.
1911—Team Reaches South Pole
Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen, along with his team Olav Bjaaland, Helmer Hanssen, Sverre Hassel, and Oscar Wisting, becomes the first person to reach the South Pole. After a celebrated career, Amundsen eventually disappears in 1928 while returning from a search and rescue flight at the North Pole. His body is never found.
1944—Velez Commits Suicide
Mexican actress Lupe Velez, who was considered one of the great beauties of her day, commits suicide by taking an overdose of sleeping pills. In her note, Velez says she did it to avoid bringing shame on her unborn child by giving birth to him out of wedlock, but many Hollywood historians believe bipolar disorder was the actual cause. The event inspired a 1965 Andy Warhol film entitled Lupe.
1958—Gordo the Monkey Lost After Space Flight
After a fifteen minute flight into space on a Jupiter AM-13 rocket, a monkey named Gordo splashes down in the South Pacific but is lost after his capsule sinks. The incident sparks angry protests from the American Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, but NASA says animals are needed for such tests.
1968—Tallulah Bankhead Dies
American actress, talk show host, and party girl Tallulah Bankhead, who was fond of turning cartwheels in a dress without underwear and once made an entrance to a party without a stitch of clothing on, dies in St. Luke’s Hospital in New York City of double pneumonia complicated by emphysema.
Italian artist Benedetto Caroselli illustrated this set of predominantly yellow covers for Editrice Romana Periodici's crime series I Narratori Americani del Brivido.
