Attack of the Fantastical Movies

ATTACK OF THE FANTASTICAL MOVIES: ATTACK OF THE 50 FOOT WOMAN, EARTH VS. THE FLYING SAUCERS, PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES, MOTORPSYCHO!, GALAXINA, REPTILICUS, BIG BAD MAMA, REAL LIFE, NINJA III: THE DOMINATION, NIGHT OF THE DEMONS

How do I grade something like ATTACK OF THE 50 FOOT WOMAN from 1958? It has a setup that could be called “laborious” or “lackluster” or “lugubrious.” I’m not going to call it any of those words, but I can see exactly why somebody else would. In other words, it’s not until about the 45-minute mark that we get to the 50 foot woman. Yes, I wish they had reversed the numbers, 15 minutes of setup and 45 minutes of 50 foot woman. Simple mathematics. At least, 45 minutes of setup and 45 minutes of 50 foot woman. Yes, that sounds even better than “15 then 45.” The final 15 or 20 minutes of ATTACK OF THE 50 FOOT WOMAN, though, are solid gold. Rating: ***

— It’s virtually impossible to watch EARTH VS. THE FLYING SAUCERS and not think about MARS ATTACKS! (flying saucers) and INDEPENDENCE DAY (Washington D.C. invaded), two blockbusters from 1996 with a combined production budget of $145 million and big, big, big stars, including Jack Nicholson in dual roles in MARS ATTACKS! In EARTH VS. THE FLYING SAUCERS from 1956, Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion flying saucers are the real star of the show (step aside, Hugh Marlowe) and the film thankfully wastes very little time in showcasing them. It’s the inverse of ATTACK OF THE 50 FOOT WOMAN. ***1/2

— Italian director Mario Bava (1914-80) became especially known for his stylish horror films. From his British Film Institute profile, “Mario Bava took a vital role in the creation of the modern horror film. If there was to be a a Mount Rushmore-style monument dedicated to four directors whose work pioneered a new form of big screen chills and thrills, those giant faces etched in granite on the mountainside would be: Bava, Alfred Hitchcock, Georges Franju and Michael Powell.” In the words of a Pavement song, a Bava film has style, miles and miles. Case in point: PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES, a low-budget science fiction and horror production from 1965 that masked its cheap sets through smoky skullduggery. Bava said in Fangoria, “Do you know what that unknown planet was made of? A couple of plastic rocks — yes, two: one and one! — left over from a mythological movie made at Cinecitta! To assist the illusion, I filled the set with smoke!” Watching PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES for the first time, you might think you’ve seen this basic plot somewhere before … ahem … Ridley Scott’s ALIEN. ***1/2

— 1965 proved to be a great year for titles with exclamation points and for director, producer, writer, cinematographer, and editor Russ Meyer (1922-2004), whose films often proved to be ahead of their time. Meyer contributed two exclamation point titles — FASTER, PUSSYCAT! KILL! KILL! and MOTORPSYCHO! — during a 1965 in which he directed three films overall; Meyer’s greatest cinematic year began with MUDHONEY. Proof of being ahead of its time: MOTORPSYCHO! (what a title) gives us a psychotic motorcycle trio led by a deeply disturbed Vietnam vet — before TAXI DRIVER, before ROLLING THUNDER, before THE DEER HUNTER, before FIRST BLOOD — in addition to all the elements (large-breasted women and endless cleavage, campy humor, satire, and quotable dialogue) we expect from a Meyer film. ***

— GALAXINA lands a few successful jabs at STAR WARS, STAR TREK, and ALIEN, but otherwise it’s a real long slog through 90-plus minutes of a lowbrow and low-budget science fiction and western parody set in the 31st century. Here’s just one example of the film’s humor: Avery Schreiber (1935-2002) plays a character named “Capt. Cornelius Butt.” Then again, I probably should have just said that it’s a Crown International Pictures release. Surely you remember Crown International Pictures? They brought us such immoral, er, immortal classics as THE BEAST OF YUCCA FLATS, THEY SAVED HITLER’S BRAIN, SEXTETTE, and THE BEACH GIRLS. The late former Playboy Playmate of the Year Dorothy Stratten fills the title role and she’s been described as “a voluptuous blonde android servant.” Galaxina works better when she’s silent (the first half of the picture), because Stratten proves that she was a true novice thespian every time she speaks during GALAXINA. Stratten reportedly complained to film director and her paramour Peter Bogdanovich that the ads for GALAXINA promoted her being the Playmate of the Year, because she wanted to be taken seriously as an actress. GALAXINA would not do good for anybody wanting to be taken seriously for anything. Unfortunately, Stratten’s estranged husband Paul Snider murdered her two months after the release of GALAXINA. Stratten would be immortalized on film by the 1981 TV movie DEATH OF A CENTERFOLD: THE DOROTHY STRATTEN STORY and the 1983 theatrical release STAR 80, played by Jamie Lee Curtis and Mariel Hemingway, respectively. In case you were wondering, you see a lot more of Stratten in Playboy than GALAXINA. *1/2

— Recent weeks, mostly under self-quarantine, have included a few first-time watch monster movies: GODZILLA VS. MECHAGODZILLA and TERROR OF MECHAGODZILLA, SLITHIS (possibly the worst monster movie ever made), THE GIANT CLAW, and, most recently, REPTILICUS, Denmark’s infamous first entry in the monster movie sweepstakes. Judging by REPTILICUS, the Danish should stick to pastries. They make a mean strudel, not so much a Godzilla rip-off. Apparently, there’s never been a second Danish monster movie, so I guess they have stuck to pastries for nearly 50 years since this 1961 turkey. Anyway, I wanted to find the Danish version of REPTILICUS, but, of course, I had to settle for the English dub from good old American International. The plot: Copper miners find the tail of a prehistoric reptile and it eventually regenerates into Reptilicus, a hand puppet (close-up) and a marionette (wide shot) that give the $50 Giant Claw its money for being the “best” worst movie monster of all-time. I enjoyed REPTILICUS even less than THE GIANT CLAW, though. For example, when Reptilicus eats an extra or two, the victims look like they have been cut out of a magazine and they are being thrown into the puppet’s mouth. In THE GIANT CLAW, at least its victims being eaten scene brought me back to the “Eat ‘em! Eat ‘em! Crunch! Crunch!” scene from Q: THE WINGED SERPENT. I even called out “Crunch! Crunch!” during THE GIANT CLAW. No such luck during REPTILICUS. **

— Arthur Penn’s 1967 film BONNIE AND CLYDE proved to be one of the watershed films of the second half of the 20th century and one indication was that for several years, BONNIE AND CLYDE inspired many sensationalistic crime films set during the Great Depression. Roger Corman produced a whole slew of them, with the most famous being 1974’s BIG BAD MAMA starring Angie Dickinson, Tom Skerritt, and William Shatner and directed by Steve Carver (who later directed the Chuck Norris spectacular LONE WOLF McQUADE). BIG BAD MAMA mixes in a hippie-like free love sensibility and showcases bed hopping and generous amounts of nudity between all the murder and mayhem. The title character (Dickinson) and her two not long past jailbait daughters (Susan Sennett, Robbie Lee) all have multiple nude scenes, highlighted by Dickinson’s full-frontal shot late in the picture. One of the picture’s tag lines: “Wilma gave her daughters everything — her looks, her lovers and the crime of their lives!” Dick Miller (1928-2019), yes, that guy, plays a crime fighter and you know you can’t go too wrong with a picture that features an old-fashioned bloody crime spree, much nudity and shenanigans (Dickinson looked absolutely sensational in 1974), Shatner, and Dick Miller. ***

— Many years before the proliferation of reality TV, Albert Brooks skewered it with his 1979 directorial debut REAL LIFE, a satire of the 1973 PBS documentary “An American Family.” Brooks plays an exaggerated version of himself and watching this movie for the first time in 2020, it’s difficult not to conjure up memories of all the obnoxious or obsequious hosts and participants on reality TV shows from years ago — “The Real World,” “The Bachelor,” et cetera, they’re all terrible and I’m fortunate to have survived all my encounters with them. All those creeps still give me the willies just thinking about it now, but unfortunately reality TV seems like it’s here and it’s here to stay. Take that from somebody who’s not watched a whole lot of TV in the last decade, with reality TV being one of the big reasons. I laughed a lot during REAL LIFE, from the epic sight gag on the head of every cameraman (I laughed every single time) to the fiery grand finale Brooks borrows from GONE WITH THE WIND. ****

— The Cannon Group’s best of the worst films could generously be called “sublime stupidity” and I believe that description fits NINJA III: THE DOMINATION perfectly. Part ENTER THE NINJA, part FLASHDANCE, and part EXORCIST, THE DOMINATION must be seen to not be believed. Imagine Jennifer Beals possessed by the evil spirit of a ninja with an Oriental Max von Sydow attempting to bring it out. THE DOMINATION starts out with its very best scene, a golf course massacre that leads to the bad ninja transferring his spirit into the body of telephone lineman and aerobics instructor Christie (Lucinda Dickey). Also happening in the first 30 minutes of the picture: Christie’s aerobics class, her fight against a handful of creeps who were harassing one of her students, and possibly the most awkward bedroom seduction scene in the history of cinema. Christie won’t give this creepy cop the time of day and then, practically the next moment, they end up in embrace and she pours V-8 on herself … this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. There’s also a bizarre sequence involving Christie’s Bouncer arcade game. On the International Arcade Museum page for Bouncer, it says “Bouncer was seen in the low budget martial arts film NINJA 3: THE DOMINATION. The game is in the main character’s apartment and she is seen playing it. The character becomes possessed by the spirit of the ninja, and as he overtakes her body, the arcade cabinet begins to bellow out smoke and hypnotizes her with a little laser show from the screen.” I thought she was already possessed. Yeah, I know, bizarre. Then again, bizarre basically describes both THE DOMINATION and Cannon films in general. We wouldn’t have them any other way. ***

— We’ve seen NIGHT OF THE DEMONS done better before, especially the first two EVIL DEAD movies and RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD, which it seems to reference through both Linnea Quigley and punk rock. We’ve seen this plot before: 10 (mostly) horny high school kids have a Halloween party inside an abandoned funeral parlor. You can fill in the rest, down to every detail both personality and plot. It’s not a bad movie, exactly, it’s just after having seen EVIL DEAD and RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD and EVIL DEAD 2, why settle for less? Seemingly just about every movie from the ‘80s — the good, the bad, and the ugly — has developed a cult following over time and NIGHT OF THE DEMONS is one of them, spoken about in an enthusiastic tone by admirers. I can sympathize, because I feel similarly about numerous movies. I have mixed feelings on NIGHT OF THE DEMONS. On one hand, I can’t think very highly of a movie that goes for three jump scares very early on. That loses points for it real quickly. It’s also one of those movies that I started liking less down the home stretch and I wished it would get to its inevitable conclusion sooner rather than later. On the other hand, it does have a few good moments, just not enough for a recommendation. **

The Wasp Woman (1959)

THE WASP WOMAN (1959) **

Seems like only yesterday — time’s such an elusive concept during quarantine — that I highlighted the deceptive print ads and posters for THE GIANT CLAW.

Today, we return to that beat with Roger Corman’s 1959 wasploitation “non-classic” THE WASP WOMAN — do not fear, it’s not another movie about yet another “White Anglo-Saxon Protestant” woman. Instead, in this one, our protagonist takes, no, abuses an experimental potion made from the royal jelly of wasps that can apparently reverse the aging progress. Unfortunate side effect that even more unfortunately only kicks in during the film’s last 20 minutes: It turns her into the title character or “A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN BY DAY — A LUSTING QUEEN WASP BY NIGHT.”

Anyway, the poster for THE WASP WOMAN, it lies. Oh, how it lies. The poster “Wasp Woman” has a woman’s head and a wasp’s body. In the film, it’s flipped and she resembles a distant cousin of the title character in the much, much better THE FLY from 1958.

THE WASP WOMAN itself could make one feel appreciably older, rather than younger, because it’s extremely dull for the first hour.

We have a crusty old scientist named Zinthrop (Michael Mark). He’s not fun in any traditional mad scientist way … and, then, he’s ran over by a car and subsequently bed ridden for most of the rest of the picture … of course, his accident happened before he could warn our protagonist Janice Starlin (Susan Cabot) of some of the unfortunate side effects found in the other non-human test subjects. He redeems himself in the final act. Actually, no, he does not.

Believe it or not, most of this movie takes place in an office building, the location for the monster movie of your dreams. On top of a dull scientist, we have multiple cosmetic company staff meetings, just exactly what the viewers want during a movie called THE WASP WOMAN. Less wasp woman, more staff meetings, bingo! This movie should have been titled CLUELESS in roughly all 6,500 languages of the world.

By the way, I do believe the film shows bees rather than wasps, most notably in both the opening and closing title screens. I might be wrong, but I don’t want to be stung for being wrong. Please, have mercy on me, I’ve been stung bad enough watching THE WASP WOMAN, which definitely pales against ATTACK OF THE CRAB MONSTERS in the Roger Corman monster movie filmography.

In 1993, TNT’s MonsterVision featured THE WASP WOMAN alongside THE GIANT CLAW, THE CYCLOPS, CREATURE WITH THE ATOM BRAIN, FROM HELL IT CAME, VALLEY OF THE DRAGONS, and THE WEREWOLF during a bad movie marathon called “A Christmas Nightmare.” THE WASP WOMAN played between THE CYCLOPS and CREATURE WITH THE ATOM BRAIN.

At that point in my life, I did not watch “MonsterVision”; I started watching it only during the Joe Bob years. I would love to go back in time to the early ‘90s and talk my teenage self into watching (and taping) “MonsterVision,” so I could have all them old tapes to watch at this critical junction in time. Also, I am sure that I would have already converted them from VHS to DVD. Preservation of the species of bad movies is an imperative.

The Giant Claw (1957)

THE GIANT CLAW (1957) ***

Funny how none of the alternate titles for THE GIANT CLAW, a low-budget monster movie from director Fred Sears and producer Sam Katzman, are BATTLESHIP or FLYING BATTLESHIP or BIG AS A BATTLESHIP, because that’s how multiple characters — especially our protagonist, electronics engineer Mitch MacAfee (Jeff Morrow) — describe “The Giant Claw” for at least the first 30 minutes.

Of course, the Giant Claw looks absolutely nothing like a battleship. Mitch himself says at one point to his lady friend’s expression of disbelief, “I said it looked like a battleship, not that it was a battleship.” Yeah, sure, whatever, best never mind.

I love how most of the movie’s promotional goods avoid revealing the Giant Claw’s face, because that act would have undoubtedly scared off potential customers or attracted only those with a taste for absolutely ridiculous movies. At least, that way — not depicting the monster honestly in cinematic propaganda — it took precisely 27 minutes before audiences had the laughter of a lifetime caused by a movie monster. This is one of those movies where I would love to get in a time machine and head for the nearest theater (or drive-in) playing THE GIANT CLAW when it opened in June 1957. How did initial audiences react to it? Did they hoot and holler and howl derisively? Did they flee in total disbelief at the latest Sam Katzman motion picture monstrosity? Did they seek a refund to absolutely no avail? Did they write their Congressmen to complain?

One poster proclaims, “Winged Monster from 17,000,000 B.C.!” “Big as a Battleship!” “Flies 4 Times The Speed of Sound!” “Atomic Weapons Can’t Hurt It!” There’s a drawing of a bird — wings, body, and talons but no face — destroying a plane and a skyscraper. Could that be the Empire State Building? All pictorial renderings of the bird are basically the same — wings, body, and talons, as well as destruction, but no face — and that’s deceptive advertising in a nutshell. (Only those who got to watch the trailer got the real dope on THE GIANT CLAW.)

The producers originally planned to get stop-motion animation titan Ray Harryhausen (MIGHTY JOE YOUNG, JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS, CLASH OF THE TITANS) to create the monster, but he proved to be too much budget and so they outsourced the bird to a model maker in Mexico City. Reportedly, Katzman spent $50 on the puppet that became known as the Giant Claw. Fifty dollars well spent, for sure, and way to go, Uncle Sam.

The film’s posters and the characters themselves fail to accurately describe the giant bird mass murderer in THE GIANT CLAW. To be fair to the actors, they had no idea during filming what the Giant Claw would look like and were left to their own imagination. The characters, though, are made to look like blithering idiots because there’s a vast disconnect between their words and “The Giant Claw” itself, beginning with the battleship description. The filmmakers especially hung out lead actor Morrow to dry, because he gives a legitimately good performance. Legend has it that Morrow ducked out of the theater in embarrassment and got drunk at home after the audience laughed at the Giant Claw’s first appearance. It apparently only took once for Morrow.

Guess that I should try myself to describe the head of the Giant Claw puppet. Extremely long neck, big teeth, flaring nostrils, bulging eyes, and a Mohawk that should be the envy of any buzzard or punk rock singer.

Over the course of the plot, we discover this killer giant bird is actually an alien avian who has come to Earth to lay eggs and wreak destruction and terror on poor, poor humanity. We learn even more, but I will leave that explanatory exposition out of this review for all those individuals who have not seen THE GIANT CLAW before. Trust me, it gets even better as the film attempts to explain the Giant Claw more and more with dialogue passages that could inspire bouts of hysterical laughter. I believe the Mayo Clinic calls it “Pseudobulbar affect.”

Bottom line: This alien avian was sabotaged by a chintzy movie producer named Sam Katzman (1901-73) and both “The Giant Claw” and THE GIANT CLAW will live in infamy as one of the great bad movie monsters and one of the great bad movies, respectively. During my first viewing, I enjoyed THE GIANT CLAW more than many so-called “good” movies.

I have one particular favorite scene in THE GIANT CLAW.

It is reminiscent of the scene in Q: THE WINGED SERPENT (produced by Samuel Z. Arkoff) when lovable hateful creep Jimmy Quinn (Michael Moriarty) leads two hoods leaning on him to the Quetzalcoatl in the Chrysler Building. We hear the Big Q take a couple bites out of crime and Quinn absolutely revels in their demise, “Eat ‘em, eat ‘em! Crunch! Crunch!” I love to hate Quinn even more after that scene.

Anyway, when the Giant Claw chomps on a pair of parachuting passengers, I said out loud, “Crunch! Crunch!” Please keep in mind that in quarantine, no one can hear you scream.