From Zombos' Closet

Cinematic Radiation's Effects By Professor Kinema

At approximately 33 minutes into Robert Wise's science fiction thriller, The Andromeda Strain, the action shifts to a small conference room. Some government officials are waiting for the President's decision on dropping an atomic bomb on the small town where everyone has been killed by a mysterious alien microbe. Here, the lethal dangers of a deadly, otherworldly, virus are merged with the very real earthbound dangers of nuclear destruction.

One civilian character, identified as "Mr Secretary" is asked his opinion. He firmly states "It's against the Moscow treaty of 1953 to fire thermonuclear weapons above ground." Another character enters the room and tells them the President has decided against using the atomic bomb. Another character comments "It should have been left up to the scientists. It's a colossal mistake."

At least for the movies, this is typical, high-level governmental decision-making: pitting politicians against scientists in a matter of extreme urgency and dire consequences. Analyzing this sequence, one could detect a bit of cinematic irony lying beneath the surface. The character of "Mr. Secretary" is played by Glenn Langan. His dissenting dialogue centers around a statement regarding a thermonuclear device. Fourteen years earlier Glenn Langan appeared in a low budget science fiction thriller titled The Amazing Colossal Man. In it he plays Lt. Col. Glenn Manning, who is exposed to the full effects of a thermonuclear device and then begins to grow into...the Colossal Man. Perhaps it's merely coincidence. Yet one can only wonder whether it was the screenwriter, Nelson Gidding, or the director, Robert Wise, who perpetrated this little sequence, paying homage to a cult sci-fi film auteured by director, Bert I. Gordon.

Professor Kinema (on right) with Bert I. Gordon

Glenn Langan's unbilled appearance in The Andromeda Strain was his last appearance on screen. According to IMDb he 'reinvented himself' and went into real estate. However, to any and all schlock film aficionados, Glenn Langan's cult status is firmly set because of his involvement with (and as) The Amazing Colossal Man.

Since The Incredible Shrinking Man made such a hit with movie audiences, The Amazing Colossal Man, assuredly, would do the same. At least this is what Bert I. Gordon surmised. Whatever could be incredible could no doubt be amazing. Part of what was incredible about the incredible shrinking man was the inevitable fact he would continue to shrink to absolute nothingness. What ultimately proved to be amazing about the Colossal Man was that he would continue to grow--until a huge hyperdermic needle put a stop to his growth spurt--and return in a sequel, War of the Colossal Beast, as the colossal beast who would wage war. These are all elements necessary for films to be more appropriately termed science fantasy. Even more amazing, the role of Lt. Col. Glenn Manning was now played by another actor (Dean Parkin), and he also had a sister when it was previously explained he had no family. 

In essays on the dubious science in science fiction films, late scientist and author Isaac Asimov pointed out an interesting fact: if you adhere to the principles that the scientific community knows, accepts, and works with, they are often represented totally wrong in movies.

Both Shrinking and Colossal Man films have doctors attempting to explain what is happening to the hapless protagonists. The incredible shrinking man, Scott Carey, is exposed to a strange glittering mist while out on a boat. Since he is wearing only a bathing suit the residue from the mist completely covers him. Was it of alien origin? Maybe it was the product of offshore government testing that was released into the air? Was it conjured up specifically to infect one person, Scott Carey? According to the story presented in the novel and film, no one else on Earth was so affected. This mist simply appears from out of nowhere and exits to nowhere. Later, he is exposed to an insecticide which reacts with the mysterious element. This reaction starts his body to slowly diminish. A medical test strip reveals his body chemestry now contains a new and unidentifiable element (a shrinking hormone?) ingested from the mist. His body is 'throwing off' all of the chemical materials that make up his physical being. This explanation is offered rather than having his atoms physically diminish in size. Since this was the accepted cause, as he reduces in size other factors would come into play. When he becomes the size of a mouse, his brain would be mouse sized, hence he should've possessed the intelligence of a mouse. Subsequently, being the size of an ant he would yet live, but have the intellegince of an ant.

The amazing colossal man, Lt. Col. Glenn Manning, in a failed attempt to save a pilot in a downed plane, is caught in the full blast of a "plutonium bomb." His clothes and skin are stripped away in the blast. This effects scene is repeated in this film and again in the sequel. Within a day's time he is restored to apparent normalcy. However, a plutonium bomb, here, contains that ethereally mysterious and very deadly element (especially in the 1950's)-- radiation. His skin has reappeared, but now his physical makeup contains a new chemical property, the ability to increase in size (a super growth hormone?).

Again, a scientific explanation is offered, and there is a deadly side effect. As his body grows to colossal proportions, his heart grows half as much. In this case his brain is being deprived of blood, hence causing madness. This would work for a normal-sized brain. Taking into account true scientific factors, when an object increases in size it's weight would cube, hence triple. A man growing to just twice his size would not be able to stand, much less walk. Before he would reach a height of 30 feet all internal organs would be pulled down to Earth via gravity and he would, in effect, be crushed. He speaks of 'Army ingenuity' in relation to the expanding garment he is now wearing. One can assume that this same Army ingenuity would either devise an expanding toilet...or even a super absorbent diaper.

That mysterious entity, radiation.

In the movies characters can either be constantly irradiated and not feel any ill effects, or catch minimal doses and suffer deadly results. The human characters of The Thing From Another World were constantly in the midst of strong radiation, extraterrestrial in origin, "...the needle has hit the top!" Yet none of the scientists present seemed concerned with any related danger. A true science fictional (or as author Harlan Ellison would've described, speculative fiction) plot device dominates the action of On the Beach. Here we are presented the few survivors of the human race soon after a global nuclear confrontation. No resultant mass damage is presented but rather simply the inevitable after effect--radiation sickness. No one is shown shrinking, growing, or mutating in any form. Those who were left living are slowly dying.

By the 1980s, just before the dissolving of the Soviet Union, a TV Movie titled The Day After further illustrated what the truer results of radiation poisoning would entail. Survivors were indeed slowly dying, but accompanied with the physical effects of hair loss, skin lesions, and loss of sanity. The final scenes of Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove show a variation of what concievably occured before the story of On the Beach; the Earth is covered with a "doomsday shroud" of the fictitious Cobalt-Thorium-G...for 93 years.

If creators of science fantasy were to obey the true laws of science and physics, cult cinema would never exist. We, true cult film aficionados, would rather not be denied such characters as the Incredible Shrinking Man, Amazing Colossal Man, Bert I. Gordon's Puppet People, the Cyclops, the 50 Foot Woman, or even the 30 Foot Bride of Candy Rock. What would our filmgoing experiences be without one of the Puppet People's rock 'n roll renditions of You're a Dolly, or the exchange between a doctor and a deputy commenting on 50 foot tall Nancy Acher's jealous tirade in Attack of the 50 Foot Woman:

"She'll tear up the whole town until she finds Harry!"
"Yea, then she'll tear up Harry."

Joe Dante's Dante's Inferno And Other Worse ThingsBy Professor Kinema

With Thanksgiving under my belt, my thoughts always turn to turkeys. Not only conjured up images of the on-the-table-carving-kind with stuffing and cranberries, but also movies considered the worst on the silver screen--past and present. One web site I'm always checking out, as well as occasionally contributing to--at least in submitting an occasional vote--is the Razzies, where candidates for the past year's worst achievements are listed and voted on. The Golden Raspberry Awards have been around, and going strong, since March 31, 1981. A similar site, Rotten Tomatoes, was launched August 12, 1999. Pre-dating them is the yearly Harvard Lampoon "Worst of... " Awards. On Saturday, April 23rd, 1966, Natalie Wood made history when she became the first performer to show up at Harvard and graciously accept her award after being voted the year's Worst Actress .

Speaking of the Worst...

In the early 1960s, in the uncharted wastes of New Jersey, dwelled one young fan who was caught up in monsters, both classic and modern. Through the pages of magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland and Castle of Frankenstein he was made aware of other kindred spirits who existed. They were appearing in FMoF's and CofF's pages since any and all were invited to submit letters, photos and mentions of fan clubs. This young fan was determined to have a letter, or at least a mention, in FMoF. He wrote to editor Forry Ackerman of his love for monster films and how much he loved reading FMoF. No response. He wrote of what he and his friends did when they were not attending school. Again, no response. He submitted a list of what he thought were the best classic and contemporary fanta-films. Again, no response. Maybe a serious re-thinking and change of concept was in order? So this young fan compiled a list of monster (and science fiction) films he thought were the worst. Although thematically cynical, this list was ahead of its time. This cynical young fan was future film director Joe Dante.

I digress...

Prior nods to the not-the-greatest horror and sci-fi films had been in the pages of FMoF and another Ackerman-edited magazine running concurrently, Spacemen. The premier issue of FMoF (1958) in the Out of This World Monsters article featured a still of the Ro-man with the caption "Robot Monster, the film so horrible it was not released, it escaped." One could easily ascertain the usage of the word "horrible" was used here not to mean anything horror-filled, but rather to imply a bad quality. The premier issue of Spacemen (July 1961) ran a full page photo of the aliens from Invasion of the Saucermen with the less-than-complimentary comments of them resembling "cabbage heads" and "heads that resemble meatballs with spaghetti" in the Orbituary Department. Issue #3 (April, 1962) contained a request from readers (one cheekily named 'Hans Orlac'), also in the Orbituary Department, to see a photo of "those unbelievably ridiculous popeyed planetmen from Killers From Space."

The young fans of FMoF and Spacemen (both periodicals presumably originating from the same typewriter of Unkka Forry) took no exception to the less than sterling comments of the films they were enjoying both on TV as well as on the big screen. Good films were enjoyable. Bad films were equally as enjoyable, mainly because they were bad. It was all taken in fun.

Okay, now back to Joe Dante...

A few weeks later his telephone rang. It was Forry Ackerman. Bang! The Ackermonster himself was calling him from the other side of the country...from the Ackermansion! He had read his list of 50 worst horror and sci-fi films with the utmost interest. Permission was asked if it could be expanded and embellished to be featured in the next issue of FMoF. Now a starry-eyed fan, he would be credited as the author!

Within a few months a huge envelope arrived with complimentary copies of FMoF #18 (July, 1962). On page 14 began what had now morphed into Dante's Inferno. There it was, a full-fledged article! Containing, as Dante later commented, "words that he didn't even understand." The 50 "worst films" listing was in alphabetical order begining with Adventure Island (1947) and winding up with Zombies on Broadway (1945). Two of Ed Wood's films were included: Bride of the Monster was listed as #7, and sandwiched between The Phantom From 10,000 Leagues (listed as Phantom of 20,000 Leagues) and Revolt of the Zombies was Plan 9 From Outer Space at #39. The entire comment was "I had heard a lot about Plan 9 From Outer Space and saw it to see if it was as bad as they said [although he doesn't elaborate on who "they" were]. It was even worse! There is a distinct possibility that it was the cheapest film ever made. The entire cast was awful. Special effects were laughable and even the old clips of Bela Lugosi were poor. The scene where Tor Johnson rose from the grave was the only good 5 seconds in the whole film. Vampira, Johnson, Lyle Talbot all wasted."

Similar pans described the other titles in Dante's Inferno. Soon after, Joe Dante was listed in CofF #3 (1963), and by issue #4 was a contributing editor. His editorial duties included compiling the Frankenstein (TV) Movie Guide. In his reflections of FMoFs 1 though 50 in  Famous Monster of Filmland (Imagine, 1986), Forry Ackerman, writes about Dante's Inferno and the repurcussions it caused. He wrote that the young fan from New Jersey was a "Joe Nobody" and that he truly felt no one would take the article seriously. However, FMoF's publisher Jim Warren irately told him American International's president James H. Nicholson was fuming. His company was planning to reissue a few of the titles panned in the article. It was also made known that if FMoF were to now run articles putting down Imagi-Movies, it could be devastating. Producers and releasing companies would not want to promote anything, past or present, on the magazine's pages. Warren flatly told him "Don't ever run a criticism of another picture!"

So...

Two issues later a full page photo was printed in the beginning of the magazine. It depicted a large trophy sitting on the desk of a beaming James H. Nicholson. The trophy was the (first) Famous Monsters of Filmland Magazine Producer's Award for "the horror hit of 1962 - AIP's The Pit & the Pendulum." Pacified, Nicholson was smiling as Warren was proudly admiring it.

And what's more...

Evidently, one of the auteurs whose films Dante panned, Roger Corman, with Teenage Caveman #44 on the list, either forgave him or paid it no attention. Less than 20 years later Corman's New World Productions handled Hollywood Boulevard, and Piranha--both featuring early directing duties by Dante. Corman functioned as Associate Producer for both films.

By the time I had read Dante's Inferno I had caught an airing of Plan 9 on television. As a pre-teen monster fan I thought of it as a bit odd. Other fanta-films seemed to have more substance and looked better. Now here was someone out there in the world that caught the same eccentricities I was observing while viewing these films. Here with this listing were many more. To me it all fell in to the general appreciation for them. Watching a film either on TV or in the movies, especially with friends, was all part of fandom. The fun was in either being generally thrilled by a truly scary film, or having a good laugh with it. Plan 9's (as well as Bride of the Monster's) auteur was not mentioned in Dante's Inferno, but recognition would come soon after his death. His body of work would be resurrected, reappraised, reevaluated and heralded...as the worst.

Now about Ed Wood Jr...

1978, the year Edward Davis Wood Jr. died at the age of 54, saw the publication of a book titled The 50 Worst Films of All Time (Popular Library). The authors were listed as Harry Medved with Larry Dreyfuss. Listed were films af all genres, touching on a few horror and sci-fi films. Mixed in with titles like The Conqueror, Myra Breckenridge, Lost Horizon and Valley of the Dolls, were titles like Eegah!, The Horror of Party Beach, Robot Monster and Santa Claus Conquers the Martians. All truly deserving of inclusion in a book listing the worst. Hidden in the back of the book on page 284 was something unique, a form to be cut out (or xeroxed like I did) and sent to Michael Medved in Venice, California, listing your (the reader's) favorite worst films. This little element gave a hint as to who really authored The 50 Worst Films of All Time. As was revealed a few years later, Michael Medved did the bulk of the writing. He didn't want his name associated with the book mainly because he was working at establishing a career in Hollywood as a screenwriter. It has also been established he was working as a script doctor.

Anyway, the mail-in-your-worst-films poll was counted (with yours truly prominently among the results), instigating a follow-up book, Golden Turkey Awards (Perigee Books, 1980). Here was a listing by brother authors Harry and Michael Medved (whatever became of Dreyfuss?) naming and awarding film turkeys, "Golden Turkeys" no less. This bad film label sat a little better with readers than what a popular TV critique show running at the time was using. At the end of the Siskel and Ebert show they would comment on a film they determined to be the Dog of the Week. This didn't endear them to viewers who had and loved those cinematic pet dogs.

But what about the poll's results?

As a result of the 50 Worst Films of All Time mail-in poll, the two movies that came out on top as the undeniably worst were The Exorcist II, the Heretic and Plan 9 From Outer Space. Neither were originally listed in their previous 50 Worst Films of All Time. This dubious distinction sparked the interest in Ed Wood Jr., who to this day still holds the title of the Worst Director ever. Extensive comments were included about Plan 9, Ed Wood Jr., and an overview of his films.

Four years later the Medveds published The Hollywood Hall of Shame, subtitled The Most Expensive Flops in Movie History. Nowhere is listed Ed Wood Jr. or any of his films.

And then...

Bill Warren, in his early editions of Keep Watching the Skies states "In The Golden Turkey Awards, the reprehensible Harry and Michael Medved, who consistently display a repulsively arrogant attitude toward the efforts of helplessly untalented but comparatively more sincere people..." in his commentary on Plan 9, calls their book "contemptible." By the 2010 edition of his book Warren omits the "reprehensible" and "contemptible." He adds that Harry "has reformed [at least by his standards] and has become a good writer on film subjects with a fondness for Plan 9."

In 1996 another book listing movie turkeys was published: The Worst Movies of All Time, or What Were They Thinking? (Citadel) by Michael Sauter. Not particularly well researched, it covered much the same ground as the Medved books, and then some. Wood and his films were given sporadic mention in the final part, The Baddest of the B's.

Now back to Joe Dante...and a wrap up with Bela and Ed Wood...

At Unkka Forry's 75th Birthday party I sat at the same table with Joe Dante. In between his signing autographs we chatted. We briefly touched on his Dante's Inferno article. Also at this party was Mark Carducci, who was finishing up filming his documentary Flying Saucers Over Hollywood, a Plan 9 Companion (1992). Dante, along with several others, spoke to the partygoers. He mentioned the whole incident about writing to Forry and eventually getting his letter listing the 50 worst films published. This section of his talk made it into Carducci's documentary. Also in the documentary are comments by Harry Medved. He revealed that he was influenced, of sorts, by Dante's Inferno. Ironically, none of the films listed in Dante's article were listed in the 50 Worst Films of All Time book. It took solicited reader response and another book to re-discover Ed Wood Jr. and his films.

Viewing and evaluating the films Bela Lugosi was appearing in towards the end of his life one can see his association with Wood wasn't the worst that could've happened to him. Wood maintained a genuine fondness for Bela and was always looking to include him in some sort of project he had going. This was to keep him active and possibly provide some money.

Two films he had appeared in just one year before Glen or Glenda stand out as being worse than anything Wood could have ever concocted: Old Mother Riley Meets the Vampire (aka Vampire over London, My Son the Vampire, King Robot, The Vampire and the Robot, ad nausem) and Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla (aka The Boys From Brooklyn).

The titles of these films alone could warn anyone away from a theater showing them. Old Mother Riley Meets the Vampire (released or escaped in the US in 1962), came about at a time when Bela was being shamelessly exploited by the Gordons, Richard and Alex. William 'One Shot' Beaudine, director of Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla, has subsequently been derided in print by Warren as well as the Medveds. How many remember Arthur Lucan, aka, Old Mother Riley? How many remember Duke Mitchell and Sammy Petrillo, the Brooklyn boys in Brooklyn Gorilla?

ZC Note: Just us bad movie buffs, at least, remember. And I'm from Brooklyn!

Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster (1965) By Professor Kinema

by Professor Kinema

Since the name, as well as the basic premise, of Frankenstein was in the public domain, it turned up in film titles generally synonymous with the word "Monster." Throughout the classic Universal series the name was alternately given to the descendants (sons, daughters, grandchildren, and distant relatives) of the original mad doctor/creator as well as to the undying creature itself. It was also a name familiar enough to attract moviegoers. This would seem to explain why Frankenstein (in name only) turned up in Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster.

In this film, Frankenstein is a robotic astronaut--an Astrobot--named Col Frank Saunders (Robert Reilly). The generic sounding "Space Monster" proves to be a caged beast doing the bidding of pseudo-humanoid aliens. Since these aliens have a mega destructive plan for Earthlings, they all could be considered Space Monsters. Their plan also involves kidnapping a a number of nubile women to be used as breeding stock. Hopefully, their offspring wouldn't inherit the obviously poorly fitted skullcaps that adorn the male aliens' heads.

The alien invaders have names like Princess Marcuzan (referred to only as 'Princess') and Nadir (a name that could appropriately mean "the pits?"). The Frankenstein/robot element functions ultimately as the hero and savior, in a truly surreal combination of characters and plot elements, topped of with genuinely horrendous and amateurish makeup work, setting the scene for a cultish film. It's all presented '...in Futurama,' to boot.

At the end of the trailer for Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster, an announcer states it's "...in Futurama," but the only other mention of Futurama turns up in the opening credits as "Futurama Entertainment Corporation Presents." The end credits mention "Interiors Photographed at Seneca Studios, Hempstead, New York." The exteriors were lensed in Puerto Rico.

At the beginning of his career, a young James Karen plays Dr. Adam Steele. This is his premier feature film. Staying primarily a TV and stage actor he would go on to appear in over 80 movies (to date) including Poltergeist, and The Return of the Living Dead (Parts I & II), and also be a spokesman for Pathmark.

Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster was initially released on a double bill with Curse of the VooDoo. Space Shield Eye Protectors were given to lucky first-run patrons (as long as supplies lasted). Presumably these eye protectors could also be used to protect the eyes from any VooDoo Curses. The film had several re-releases, turning up with titles like Duel of the Space Monsters, Frankenstein Meets the Spacemen, Marte Invade a Puerto Rico and Mars Attacks Puerto Rico (and not Hempstead, NY?). The only mention these space monsters are from Mars is found in the shot of a newspaper headline, which reads, "Earth Scientists Warn of Martian Threat."

A four page promo feature of Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster turned up in Famous Monsters of Filmland #39, June 1966. The article states this film was chosen as the lead-off film at the (prestigious) 1965 Science Fiction Film Festival in Trieste.

An archival print exists in the Museum of Modern Art's film collection. A short article in the New York Times, January 1, 2010, states, "The impaired cognition of New Year's Weekend make's it an ideal time to encounter Robert Gaffney's enjoyable, goofy drive-in movie here in an improbable screening at the Museum of Modern Art."

It was the final entry in the museum's series titled Nuts and Bolts: Machine Made Man in Films From the Collection.

The Beast With A Million Eyes By Professor Kinema

One interestingly unique little film from the 1950s that I've always had an affection for is The Beast with a Million Eyes (1955). The original ad art featured a never-never creature with a body containing an endless array of eyes that disappeared off the edge of the poster. It was hyped as "filmed for Wide Screen in Terror-Scope." Since this film was promoted and sold before it was ever filmed, one can assume the 'Wide Screen and Terror-Scope' elements were there from the beginning. This same line appeared in the later printed lobby cards, which consisted of stills from the finished production. All showings that I've seen have been in the normal 1:66 to 1 format. The IMdB lists the 'official' format as 1:37 to 1, not really a 'wide screen' and surely not anything that could be recognized as being in any sort of 'terror-scope.' On the other hand I haven't heard of anyone expressing disappointment over not being thrilled by something that was not in any sort of 'terror-scope.'

If this little opus occupies any place in film history it would be for one main fact; it contains the very first Paul Blaisdell cinematic creature.

The premier issue of Fantastic Monsters of the Films (1962) features an article documenting the creation of this creature; 'Little Hercules.' The copy of the article emphasizes " ...we (the monster makers) do not always work on Million Dollar Movies, and we do not take home Million Dollar Paychecks. Often we have to work within limited funds in a budgeted amount of time." Not mentioned is the actual amount of money Blaisdell did in fact recieve for his work: $400 - half of which was spent on materials. In a series of step-by-step illustrations the creation of the model unfolds. Materials mentioned for the construction of the model were modeling clay and liquid latex rubber. Other materials listed, for a generic background structure, include chicken mesh wire and plaster of paris. Randy Palmer's affectionate book Paul Blaisdell, Monster Maker (McFarland, 1997) mentions the additional materials needed to complete the model; small plastic eyes, plastic fangs, rubber lizard tails for antennae and wire hangers for the bat-like wings.

Professor Kinema's Gimme A Movie Gimmick Time

from Professor Kinema

 

The recent release of Spy Kids: All the Time in the World in 4D (the entire film's title) harks back to the days of the bogus promotional gimmicks. This is all presented in 'Aroma-Scope.' A check of the film's official web page doesn't give an explaination as to what 'Aroma-Scope' can be. Maybe the alleged 4th dimension contains a variety of aromas? We're also informed that, via the film's posters, 'the 4th dimension is free!'

Here are a few other 'technical innovation' favs that come to mind:

 

Encino Man  (1992) -- was promoted, in print, as 'A Chillin' New Comedy in Full Neandervision.'

Blood Sucking Freaks (aka The Incredible Torture Show)  (1978) --  was filmed in 'Ghoul-O-Vision.'

Swingtail (1969) --  was in 3D and 'Cosmovision.'

The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies!!? (1964) -- was filmed in 'Bloody-Vision,' and 'Hallucinogenic Hypnovision.' The latter was a spinning black wheel with a white spiral on it. It appears when Madame Estrella hypnotizes her victims. On posters it was hyped as presented in 'TerrorRama.'

The Hypnotic Eye (1960) -- patrons were given Hypnotic Eye Balloons to enable them to enjoy the thrills of 'HypnoMagic.'

Orgy of the Dead (1965) --  was 'in Gorgeous and Shocking Astravision and Sexicolor.'

X, the Man With X-Ray Eyes (1963) --  was in SpectaRama.'

House on Bare Mountain (1962) --  was in 'Rawcolor and Sinscope.'

Konga (1961) --  was in 'Spectamation.'

Horrors of the Black Museum  (1959) -- was in 'HypnoVista (You Can't Resist It!).'

The Angry Red Planet (1959) --  was in 'Cinemagic.'

The Smallest Show on Earth (1957) --  was in 'Upside-Down Scope.'

The Case of the Mukkinese Battle Horn (1956) --  was filmed in 'Schizophrenoscope.'

And the ultimate (or minimalist) technique hype:

(The Adventures of) Rat Pfink a(nd) Boo Boo (1966) -- was filmed in 'Regularscope Black & White.'

 

 

Promo Flyer: The Saturday Night Chiller

Professor Kinema asks "How much SHOCK! can you take?"

Can't Get Enough Zacherley?

Professor Kinema strikes again with more vintage Zacherley...

Professor Kinema Provides More SHOCK! For You

Courtesy of Professor Kinema

Professor Kinema Provides Some SHOCK! for You

Professor Kinema's been digging down in the crypt, turning up some SHOCKING!ing items for you...

Professor Kinema Wants You To Join the SHOCK! Club

Professor Kinema's a member; are you? Here's your Zacherley passport to more from the Kinema archives...

Book Review: Guilty Pleasures Reviewed by Professor Kinema

As a Cinema Historian, archivist, and collector, I especially enjoy being on just about everyone's mailing list. This results in an influx of catalogues. Always one of my favorites is the latest from the Midnight Marquee Press. Of the many books offered by this small, but dedicated press are two edited by Gary J. Svehla and Susan Svehla called Guilty Pleasures of the Horror Film and Son of Guilty Pleasures of the Horror Flim. 

The Kinema Archives houses many periodicals from the house of Gary and Susan Svehla. It makes one pine for the days of FanEx when one could visit their table and peruse the piles of literary treasures on display. Like all true MonsterKid-friendly dealers, a bargain could always be gotten. The more one bought, the more one could get a deal and all were interesting and welcome additions to any and all libraries of fantastic literature.

Both Guilty Pleasures books offer interesting insights into B movies such as Rodan, Two Lost Worlds, The Indestructible Man, The Tingler, Frankenstein's Daughter, Robot Monster and Giant Gila Monster among others.

True, as the titles of the books would indicate, as well as the catalogue descriptions state, these are far from cinematic masterpieces. Yet because they are less than perfect (or even good by any sense of the word) they are still fun to watch and entertainingly so. Personal reasons why they are treasured are given in individual essays by authors like Tom Weaver, John Parnum, Gary Don Rhodes and Don Leifert. These reasons ring true. The cover of the first book is a different design than the one housed in the Kinema Archives, but the content is the same.

These two books offer a counterbalance to how these films are written about in other books; mainly 'scholar' Bill Warren's Keep Watching the Skies. The above mentioned films, along with many others, get far less than positive individual treatments in his third (count 'em three) refurbished edition of his work. In a film genre he claims to have a true affection for he finds a variety of truly pseudo-creative ways for trashing them, as well as insulting the 'auteurs' involved.

Truly, one could view these films, research them by consulting previously published accounts and critiques, seek out and interview people involved in the making of them, and offer personal opinion, but determining them to be guilty pleasures provides refreshing insight.

Many of the other book titles offered in the Midnight Marquee Press catalogue, as well as Warren's opus, are all welcome additions to the Kinema Archives, too.

Fantastic Monsters Magazine Club by Professor Kinema

In the pre-flea market, pre-yardsale and pre Ebay days of my youth, a truly exciting place to visit and spend my meager allowance was the Farmer's Market. In concept it seemed to exist somewhere between a wholesale produce market and antique barn. One cubicle was always immediately searched out and perused by me. This area contained a variety of notions (such as rubber monster masks, whoopie cushions, kazoos, etc) and back issues of comics and monster magazines. These periodicals always seemed to be in pretty good condition, except for the tops of the front covers. These were savagely removed, probably by something like a box cutter. I was informed later that this was done so the individual dealer, at the time, could return these sliced off sections of the front covers for credit. The rest of the magazines were subsequently sold to vendors, by weight. Then these vendors, who occupied these cubicles in the Farmer's Markets, would in turn re-sell them, usually for the affordable price of 5 cents per copy. This was definitely within my pre-teen budget.

Perusing the monster magazines I first set my eyes on Fantastic Monsters of the Screen. Having regularly purchased copies of FM and CofF for some time before and since, these seemed almost as interesting. For the grand total of 25 cents I bought the first five (of seven total) issues. This was after carefully perusing all of the available copies. All had that cut across the top, with the titles removed, as well as corresponding portions of several pages beneath. The person who wielded the mutilating box cutter was probably in a hurry. For a nickel apiece, I wasn't planning to save these as collectibles but, rather, to further mutilate them. As did many monster magazine readers of the era, my plans for these issues was to remove the illos of the monsters. These, in turn, would either go into some sort of personal album or decorate the walls of my bed room. I wasn't planning to use anything like a box cutter, though.

As was the case in the other monster mags I acquired, the ads towards the back of the issue were of interest. These were pages filled with the usual 'cool stuff' which went beyond what the vendor in the Farmer's Market had for sale. Two small ads were unique. One was for sets of color slides of 'Hollywood Monsters' and the other was for a 50 foot reel of 8mm film and 100 foot reel of 16mm film of 'Filmland Monsters.' Both ads were illustrated with familiar monsters. The ad copy read: See the Hideous Three Eyed Atomic Mutation, the She Creature, the Crawling Claw, the Smashing Awesome Amphibian...and, the Mushroom Monster from Venus! The illos of the slides matched the subjects of the film footage. Both ads had the same address: Golden Eagle Films of Topanga, California. Of all of the items offered for sale in any of the monster magazines I had ever possessed, these interested me most.

However, since it was a year or two past the publication dates of Fantastic Monsters (which appeared between 1962-63) I thought the magazine had stopped publishing, and the company - Golden Eagle Films - had long since gone out of existence, along with all of these precious items.. That was that, I surmised.

A friend, and fellow collector, years later lamented that I should have at least dropped a note to Golden Eagle Films at the Topanga Canyon address and inquired if any of the advertised treasures were still available. Thinking back, I figured what a totally logical and terrific idea. It would have been a 50/50 chance. Paul Blaisdell, editor of Fantastic Magazine and seller of the desired items, still lived in Topanga Canyon. He died there in 1983 at the 'youthful' age of 55.

In the few brief, but pleasant, conversations I had with collector Bob Burns, he told me that along with being an accomplished illustrator, sculptor and model maker, Paul Blaisdel was also an accomplished photographer. He often made photographic records during the planning, constructing and usage of his monstrous creations. His medium included color slides and film, 16mm film and stereoscopic photos. American International allowed him to market any and all color slides that he personally took of his 'creations' as well as a limited amount of the film footage that was used in their feature productions. The limitation was that footage of the creatures could be included as long as the featured players were not. This is what comprised the 5 sets of slides as well as what was featured in the 50ft and 100ft of 8mm & 16mm film - in 'sparkling black and white.'

Had I managed to track down these mail order items they would truly be valued collectibles.

All that would be needed next to create the ultimate collectible package would have been the Fantastic Monsters Club package. This consisted of a 'blood red membership card,' a free monster photo (of a Blaisdell creature, natch), an exclusive member's bulletin complete with a secret message and strange facts, plus a year's subscription to Fantastic Monsters. All this for $3! Including the 5 sets of monster slides @ $1 apiece and the 8mm film @ $2--I would also have had to acquire the 16mm film @ $6--this monsterkid would have had to shell out a grand total of $16 (not counting postage) at the time.

The value of all of this in today's collectibles market? Who knows?