Zombos’ Closet…a vast trove of endearingly cheap thrills, including movie and book reviews, and scans of his collections of cinema pressbooks, goofy paper-cutout Halloween decorations, and his amazing collection of Mexican lobby cards from B-grade films. If you have time to descend into a serious rabbit-hole of marvelous trash-culture nostalgia, visit that site just as soon as you possibly can.” (DangerousMinds.net)
Zombos Says: Poor (but goes well with crackers)
“Atrocious lighting, abominable story, ludicrous Neanderthal men dressed in furs and carrying clubs, and thrift store couture from the costume department; shall I go on?”
I folded my arms tightly, waiting for Paul Hollstenwall to counter my argument. I dared him to find a shred of decent creativity or craft in Frankenstein’s Castle of Freaks.
“Michael Dunn as Genz, the necrophilic, breast-squeezing pervert,” he replied. “He brings a little respectability to it, don’t you agree?” Paul’s wide, earnest, eyes drilled into me.
“So… you’re saying the small part Dunn plays was a wise career move?”
“Well, it’s not like he can pick and choose from a variety, really. He’s a little person. After the Wild, Wild, West, what else is there?”
I thought about what Paul said. “True. But Genz is a long drop from playing the mirthfully nefarious Dr. Miguelito Loveless. A very long drop.”
Paul leaned back and took a sip of lemonade. We were sitting in the solarium, enjoying the warmth, peace, and quiet, next to the pelargoniums, whose scent of chocolate wafted through the room. Zombos and Zimba were out and about, hence the peace and quiet. The aftertaste of that movie still lingered in my mouth, no matter how much lemonade I drank.
There is no peace or quiet in Frankenstein’s Castle of Freaks, otherwise known as Terror! Il Castello Delle Donne Maledette. The plot ignores incredulity, but makes for a perfect accompaniment to crackers when viewed after two or more glasses of Chianti.
Dr. Frankenstein (Rossano Brazzi), using a Walmart-bought laboratory, operates on Goliath, one of two Neanderthal men terrorizing the countryside. The other is Ook, but I’ll get to him in a minute. For now, just sit back, close your eyes, and think about it. That’s right. It’s that awful and dopey. This is the first time I’ve ever used the word ‘dopey’ in a review.
Genz is one of Frankenstein’s assistants, but his habit of feeling up the nocturnal goods, fresh from the grave, gets him into trouble. He’s sent packing, to roam the countryside simmering with revenge on his mind. He and Ook find each other and become fast friends. Ook is the other Neanderthal terrorizing the villagers. Genz teaches Ook all he knows about sexual deviancy, which terrorizes the villagers even more. Even Mexican horror movies don’t stoop this low.
Frankenstein’s other assistants include a lecherous hunchback (“come with me, we go to woodshed!”), who fools around with the cook. The cook looks a lot like the ugly sister, Doris, in Shrek. Their pantry hanky-panky upsets her husband, the clumsy butler, Hans (Luciano Pigozzi). Visiting the castle are Frankenstein’s daughter Maria (Simonetta Vitelli) and fiancé, and her friend Krista (Christiane Rucker), who studies science and becomes fascinated by the savings Frankenstein accomplishes by using all that Walmart laboratory equipment. A portrait with moving eyes watches Krista take a bath, and eyes behind a wall clock’s glass door watches Maria make love to her fiancé. We watch in horror—not the good horror movie kind—as flaccid close-ups, lethargic pacing, and choppy zooms make high-school theatrical endeavors appear to have more carefully arranged production values than this production. The accompanying music sounds mostly like someone gargling throughout the movie. While Frankenstein shows Krista his “accumulator,” Genz shows Ook how to cook meat in Ook’s real man-cave. Gratuitous nudity is provided by Maria and Krista bathing in the man-cave’s natural hot tub, but they act like sisters unfortunately.
Not much heat is generated by the sparse showing of townsfolk, who light the torches to go after Ook when a local girl is killed. When Genz sneaks back to the laboratory to free Goliath, that Neanderthal brute kills the hunchback, the butler, and Frankenstein. I confess I was glad he did that. After Ook grabs Krista—she returned to bathe in the man-cave again—he and Goliath go into smackdown mode. Both smack each other back and forth until Goliath kills Ook. (Note to self: suppress urge to write ‘he does it with a left (h)Ook)’.)
The villagers show up to kill Goliath. Inexplicably, Krista hugs Genz, the homicidal pervert as the movie ends on a philosophical note when someone sums it all up: “There’s a bit of a monster in all of us.” Travelogues have more drama. Watch one instead.
Ray Harryhausen strikes again in It Came From Beneath the Sea. The 1950s nuclear bomb paranoia brings another irritated giant monster to attack mankind. The Wikipedia entry notes a humorous problem for Kenneth Tobey as he kept sinking in the sand next to Faith Domergue, and Harryhausen’s budget only allowed for six of the octopus’s eight tentacles to be animated. Thanks to ZC lurker Terry Michitsch for requesting this pressbook (and the one for First Men in the Moon, which I’ll post as soon as I can find it. It’s buried in the closet Terry, somewhere, I swear). This movie was double-billed with Creature with the Atom Brain. (ZC Note: I pulled this one from the 2018 archives to go along with Granny’s radio spots for It Came From Beneath the Sea. If you have any issues with that, you can speak to my lawyer, Tryan Sumi.)
Comic reader version: Download It Came From Beneath the Sea Pressbook
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Granny goes seaside this week! (or seasick, either one)
I was sitting on my bed the other night reading my old copy of Film Fantasy Scrapbook when I heard a tapping at my bedroom window. Looking over I saw a ghastly face peering in at me. At first I was startled, but then I realized what, or who, it was. Getting out of bed, I went over and opened the window.
“Reaper,” I said. “What are you doing out here at this late hour?”
“I have another set of spots for you,” he said.
I took the vinyl record from his cold, clammy hands and looked it over.
“Oh, ho, ho,” I said. “This is a good one!”
He smiled and shuffled away into the darkness. I took the record back to bed with me and examined it closely. To think, the spots on this record hadn’t been heard for almost seventy years and here I was holding them in my hand. I could only imagine what the listeners back then thought when they heard the spots, and how they reacted when they saw the film on the big screen with its magnificent special effects. And the title…..who could resist seeing a movie called It Came From Beneath The Sea?
Released in 1955, the Columbia Pictures movie starred Kenneth Tobey, Faith Domergue, and Donald Curtis. But, the real star was the giant radioactive octopus so skillfully brought to life by Ray Harryhausen. Using his unique split-screen “sandwich” technique he was able to create many exciting visuals, incorporating his animated model with live action plates in a most convincing way.
The spots capture the mystery and excitement of the movie and prepare the listener for the wonders they would see on the screen. I hope they grab you as well as they do me.
A wave of the tentacle goes to The Radio Reaper (ZC Note: OMG, there’s two of them now!) for providing this exciting look back at one of the greats of the 1950s. So, beware… and enjoy! Here are seven cool radio spots including 15, 30, and 60 second variations.
Do you have any radio spots you would like to share? Contact Granny (Gary Fox) at [email protected].
The storyline for Kronos was a mature science fiction about an alien machine sucking up energy as it lumbered across Mexico to LA after landing. Of course, with a $160,000 budget said lumbering involved stock footage taken from The Rains of Ranchipur and The Revolt of Mamie Stover (Trailers from Hell), but the special effects were above average and ambitious for their time involving stop motion, mattes, and animation.
From Granny C…
My cousin Agatha recently sent me a bat-mail, telling me how much she is enjoying my series of radio spots on giant monsters. She told me she knew of one more giant monster from one of her favorite science fiction movies and wondered if I might consider including it. I asked her which one and she said, “That giant colossus of metal, that energy-sucking ravager of planets…Kronos!”
Well, I suppose one could categorize Kronos as a giant monster of sorts, although not of skin and bones. But, it did cause a high level of terror among the populace, and a lot of anguish for the scientists tasked to find a way to destroy it. The theme was familiar, only this time the “monster” was a one hundred feet tall – and growing – giant made of metal. This was before Mogera of The Mysterians, Mechani-Kong of King Kong Escapes or Mechagodzilla.
Released in 1957, Kronos is acclaimed by fans as being a pretty good sci-fi thriller, with interesting visual effects. Most fans get a kick out of seeing Kronos stomping its way through the countryside with that creepy squeaking sound effect of its movement. Jeff Morrow, George O’Hanlon (the future voice of George Jetson), and Barbara Lawrence headline the cast with familiars John Emery and Morris Ankrum. It is interesting to see the wall-sized, tape-driven computer named S.U.S.I.E. How far we’ve come in 67 years!
The spots featured here are part of a double feature with She Devil, starring Mari Blanchard, Jack Kelly and Albert Dekker. It’s a quaint little story about a scientist (Kelly) who creates a serum based on the recuperative abilities of a fruit fly and uses it to cure injured animals. When he and his partner (Dekker) try it on a dying woman, she makes a miraculous recovery. As to be expected, serious side-effects occur, transforming her into a diabolical she-devil who will stop at nothing to fulfill her desires. She is able to regenerate any wound and even change the color of her hair at will. It is up to the two scientists to figure out a way to stop her.
Of the two, Kronos was the better movie, with top visuals blending a model Kronos with cartoon animation of its onslaught, trampling everything beneath its pounding feet. She Devil uses the old red make-up/red-blue filter effect to accomplish some nifty transformation scenes.
So, from 1957, for cousin Agatha and you, here’s Kronos…..and She Devil to assail you with 20, 30, and 60 second radio spots.
Do you have any radio spots you would like to share? Contact Granny (Gary Fox) at [email protected].
American Releasing Corporation eventually became American International Pictures (AIP), which specialized in double bill bookings. This double bill pressbook is for Female Jungle and The Oklahoma Woman. Two separate folded sheets for each movie were put into the folded cover sheet, with the emphasis on newspaper ads touting sex appeal to entice movie-goers. For Female Jungle, it was “Jayne Mansfield…sex on the rocks” and for The Oklahoma Woman it was “a whip-wielding she-devil.” Clearly, young teen men were the target audience. Touch Connors (don’t touch that) starred in The Oklahoma Woman. Connors (no relation to Chuck Connors) eventually came to his senses and renamed himself as Mike Connors (who you may know as Mannix from the television series). The publicity campaign was a no-brainer (actually brainless) with “Put up a big front with Jayne” selling the woman-on-the-floor-holding-desperately-onto-the-leg-of-a-guy theme, and the promise of the Queen of the Outlaws cat-fighting with her female rival and cracking that whip (on guys, ouch) theme.
Roger Corman already had The Oklahoma Woman, which cost $60,000 dollars, ready to go. They just needed a second movie to complete the double bill and did so with the $49,000 Female Jungle, a Burt Kaiser written and produced effort. Female Jungle was shot in six days. According to IMDb, Mansfield was paid $150 dollars for her role in the movie, which was expanded after a serious incident kept Kathleen Crowley from continuing in her lead role. Lawrence Tierney and John Carradine also appeared in this one.
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Female Jungle and
The Oklahoma Woman 1956
Double Bill PressbookRead More »
Female Jungle and
The Oklahoma Woman 1956
Double Bill Pressbook Read More »
This La Isla de la Muerte Mexican lobby card is big, coming in at 17 by 24.5 inches. I have a fondness for Mexican lobby cards that have an illustration mimicked in the inset photo (or is it vice versa?). Baron von Weser (I’d pronounce it vun-weeeeeezer for dramatic effect) keeps people-eating plants on his island in this Allied Artists Pictures production. AAP was a subsidiary of Monogram Pictures. Cameron Mitchell played the baron. Mel Welles (another name that trips off the tongue) directed. He also did Little Shoppe of Horrors and Lady Frankenstein. Mitchell’s voice was dubbed for the English version. Go figure.
Here’s a glimpse into how pressbooks usually wound up on the theater manager’s desk: folded in half and simply mailed in a nice envelope. This MGM example is cool because of the explanation that’s also a bit of salesmanship for The Three Musketeers 1948.
The first Mickey Spillane novel became the first movie too. I, the Jury was filmed for 3D, but by the time it hit theater screens, the short-lived 3D craze of the 1950s was waning, so most first and second run houses showed the movie in standard 2D. Harry Essex adapted the novel (his writing credits include Creature From the Black Lagoon, Kansas City Confidential, It Came From Outer Space, and, okay, Octaman–hey, no one’s perfect).
David J. Hogan in his Film Noir FAQ doesn’t give much love to the movie, but he does point out the action scenes were well handled and that Spillane came from a comic writer background, which could explain why his character, Mike Hammer, is so super macho. Unfortunately, Biff Elliot was a poor choice to play Hammer and drags down the movie. So, dare I say it, he didn’t nail the Hammer. Trekkers know him as Schmitter from the Devil in the Dark episode of the original Star Trek. He also did episodes for Alfred Hitchcock Presents and some horrors, the Navy vs. the Night Monsters and Blood Bath. I’d like to see those on Svengooli.
The pressbook is a big deal at 16 pages. One of these days I’ll figure out the psychology behind the choice of colors used in pressbooks as it doesn’t match the one used in film colors. The color used in this pressbook doesn’t quite match to the violence and grittiness in Mike Hammer. What do you think? One last note: this pressbook must have gone a round with Hammer as two unnecessary cuts ruin two pictures.
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A dying man walks into detective Michael Shayne’s office, holding onto a baggage ticket. The story unfolds from there. With Hugh Beaumont (Leave It to Beaver) as Shayne, the story is more poached than hard-boiled, but this PRC production is directed by Sam Newfield, one busy beaver to be sure as he was prolific and completed 250 feature movies beginning in the silent age and up to 1958. He also directed a lot more too, including training films, shorts, industrial films, and for television. He directed The Terror of Tiny Town 1938, an all small-person novelty western that’s best seen during a midnight show.
Producers Releasing Corporation (PRC) was a Poverty Row outfit but they had their own small studio. Sam Newfield directed so many of their movies he used two other names to make it look like PRC had more directors. Mostly producing B movies, the studio did the usual fare including westerns, horrors, and assorted action dramas. The Devil Bat and The Devil Bat’s Daughter were hits for PRC as well as many other films, and the classic noir, Detour, was also produced by the studio. They even had their own version of the Bowery Boys (Dead End Kids) called the Gas House Kids with Billy Halop. Halop’s career peetered out due to personal problems and his aging (no more playing Tommy), but he did have a resurgence in the 1970s with television’s All in the Family, where he played in ten episodes.
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