If ever a movie needed a horror host, it would Reptilicus, a Danish import distributed by AIP. Bill Warren in his Keep Watching the Skies! American Science Fiction Movies of the Fifties (okay, so it wasn’t American or the 1950s but…), unloaded both barrels in his usual stye. “Reptilicus has the dubious distinction of being a movie so bad American International almost refused to distribute it.” The monster twist here is that if any part of Reptilicus survives it regenerates the rest. As in The Giant Claw, the monster is a puppet, with “the body…dragged around by the head.” He goes on to mention that Reptilicus flew in the European prints of the film, but they were cut for the American release. Some suing went on between AIP and Sid Pink (he wrote the story and co-directed) over the originally delivered movie, and then some suing went on between Sid Pink and AIP and Monarch Books after the novelization hit the bookshelves. Apparently the novelization was rather racy containing “lewd, lascivious and wanton desire…” Of course, none of that was in the movie, unfortunately. You be the judge! I think a double bill viewing with this and The Giant Claw should be mandatory.
A look at the Reptilicus model with the amazing miniature buildings.
REPTILICUS! “Like nothing you’ve ever seen before!”
Nope, that is not a comment about my kitchen after a round of cooking up some witch’s brew. But many people do say that very thing about the Danish movie Reptilicus: “I’ve never seen anything like that before!”
Reptilicus has always received a bad rap from monster movie fans ever since its release in 1962. From over acting to unnecessary comedic relief, to a phony-looking monster to poor special effects, the movie doesn’t fare too well on the popularity scale. And yet, it still has a certain charm about it, and most monsterkids are inclined to cut it some slack.
I called my grandson, Big Abner, and asked him if he knew about Reptilicus. He said he did, and I asked him what he thought was the best part of the movie.
“Ann Smyrner,” he said.
Hmmm. Boys will be boys, I guess.
Was the movie so bad? Well, the story itself was ok, it was just how it was presented that got it into trouble. The most criticism goes to the design of the marionette/puppet used to portray Reptilicus. Although the head was pretty good, the way it moved and flopped around was rather pitiful. The small wings and useless feet were also subjects of derision. No wonder the scene of Reptilicus flying was cut from the Danish version for the American release. Also, the added use of acid saliva that Reptilicus spewed at various times was not convincing.
Apart from a few process shots, some double exposures, and one obvious paste-up of a farmer being swallowed alive by Reptilicus, no grand visual effects were used. The Reptilicus model was always combined with realistic miniatures. The live-action scenes of the military firing on Reptilicus were well done, however.
If one can suspend disbelief just long enough to sit through the movie, it does prove to be somewhat entertaining. The visuals aren’t all that bad if one can overlook the shortcomings.
The radio spots are pretty good, using the same general pattern Konga used the year before. Paul Frees does an excellent job of selling the highpoints of the movie, although I still snicker when he says, “See …and you still won’t believe what you saw.” Hype or sarcasm? You be the judge. So, sit back, remember Ann Smyrner, and listen to Reptilicus!
Here are the 20, 30, and 60 seconds radio spots to terrorize you!
Gulp! A quickly-made composite using an existing close-up sequence.Technicians line up a shot using the Reptilicus model.
Do you have any radio spots you would like to share? Contact Granny (Gary Fox) at [email protected]. You can also read the comic book!
I picked up this Tarzan Escapes MGM pressbook back in 2022. It is extremely fragile so I hemmed and hawed over how to create images from its pages. I have a 24 inch commercial flatbed scanner, but handling old pressbooks, especially ones that were printed on newsprint paper (high acid content so they deteriorate pretty quickly), is a dicey affair. I eventually worked out a system to move the pressbook around without overly handling it and here you go. I lost a few edge pieces here and there, but all in all, not too bad.
MGM created wonderful pressbooks, but kept the costs down by using paper that wouldn’t last. Of course, who would have thought there would be people like me, eventually, who would collect such disposable movie advertising? Johnny Weismuller and Maureen O’Sullivan were a perfect match for Tarzan and Jane; and the movies turned out to be thrilling and fun at the same time. Check out Cafe Roxy for their blog entry on this movie (https://caferoxy.blogspot.com/2010/10/still-batty-about-tarzan-escapes.html). American audiences didn’t get to see the deleted vampire bats scene and due to a problem with the initial direction, the movie was reshot, so many earlier scenes–some gruesome–were excised. Bummer.
While It Came From Hollywood, some films in American theaters from AIP in the 1950s through 1970s came from Italy. American International Pictures had a successful formula for making budget productions that made a profit by targeting male teenagers. But competition latched onto the Arkoff Formula (Samuel Arkoff and James H. Nicholson started AIP as American Releasing Corporation), leading AIP to look to foreign movies for a fresh, cost-effective source of movies. Part of that formula included releasing two B movies on a double-bill, when the usual approach was to release one A and one B. A movies were more expensive, so having two Bs kept costs low. Their competitors, other independent companies, followed suit and AIP looked to Italy to distribute Italian productions while they figured out a new approach for production at home. One notable success from Italy, for horror fans, was Black Sunday 1960. By the 1960s, AIP teamed with Roger Corman to produce another successful run of horror movies with Vincent Price, and of course, there were the beach party movies with Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello. Then came the motorcycle cycle and the psychedelic cycle of movies. Notice a trend here? AIP used focus groups to keep on top of what movies their target audience wanted to see.
The Year of the Cannibals is an updated retelling of Antigone, the Greek play by Sophocles, where two warring factions leave the dead in their wake. Britt Ekland plays Antigone. In this version, bodies are left openly in the streets and young people start to defy authorities to bury them. AIP distributed the dubbed movie in 1971 (IMDb).
A Monogram studio B movie, Allotment Wives notably starred Kay Francis, Otto Kruger, and Paul Kelly. From the poverty row studio that brought us wonderful pop culture Bs like Charlie Chan, the Bowery Boys, Bela Lugosi’s weird but wonderful horrors, and more than a tumbling tumble-weeds’ worth of westerns, came this military insurance scam film noir. Kay Francis was the highest paid actress for Warner Brothers of the 1930s, after a successful run at Paramount. When she openly disagreed with the quality of the work she was getting from Warner Brothers, they relegated her to the backlot for speaking out. Picture deals became harder to find and she eventually signed with Monogram. The term ‘poverty row’ evolved from the smaller B movie studios that produced movies during the 1920s through 1950s, with a lot less money, lesser known actors (or known actors on a downward spiral), and production schedules that didn’t allow for retakes and elaborate staging. But many of those movies remain endearing to movie fans today, especially this one. This pressbook is a more prestigious example of a Monogram pressbook mostly due to Kay Francis’s presence.
Producer Herman Cohen, Jess Conrad, Claire Gordon, and Konga.
KONGA! Yep, I go ape every time I think of this movie!
It hadn’t been since 1933 when King Kong came out that the screen had exploded with such mighty fury and spectacle or so the posters exclaimed. The boys at American International Pictures went all out in hyping this movie, creating awesome poster art and an over-the-top marketing campaign. Speaking of posters, the 40×60 inches (ZC Note: also known as the bus stop or subway poster) is spectacular. In fact, seeing that particular poster in the snack bar lobby of the Parkway Drive-in was what caused my nephew, Crazy Gary, to start collecting movie posters.
Although not nearly as good and awe inspiring as King Kong or Mighty Joe Young, Konga does have its moments. The split-screen visual effects are good, the miniatures are excellent, the music exciting, and the performances adequate. Michael Gough (pronounced “Goff”), as Dr. Charles Decker, is his usual maniacal driven self.
The movie is interesting, although rather slow-paced to begin with. It isn’t until Konga is injected with a super dose of growth serum and bursts out of Decker’s house that the movie really takes off. His walk through the streets of London with Decker in hand is really impressive. I especially like actor Paul Stockman’s eye movements as the giant Konga.
The radio spots, released on a 7-inch, 45 rpm record, are interesting and full of excitement, although they paint a more stupendous picture than the movie actually delivers. But, no matter: The last fifteen minutes provide enough “fury and spectacle” to make for an enjoyable experience. So, enough monkeying around: Listen to Konga!
Konga 20, 30, and 60 second spots from Granny C.
It’s 20 minutes to midnight. Do you know where Michael Gough is? (ZC Hint: he’s in Konga’s right hand screaming his head off.).Paul Stockman plays Konga and goes on a tear with the well-constructed house miniature.
No, it’s not Halloween already, although if you hung around my house long enough you would think so, with all the creepy and scary-looking relatives of mine who just drop in whenever the spirits move them. But, the monsters ARE coming, or, more correctly, the GIANT monsters are coming.
This week’s offering begins a five-part series of spots featuring giant monsters on the attack. With one exception they all feature actors in costumes representing all sorts of creatures. I’ve always been a fan of these movies because of the awesome split-screen effects combining the monster with crowds running for their lives, and for the intricate models said monster usually destroys. How they made the miniature buildings crumble as realistically as they did has always amazed me.
This week I feature spots from Godzilla, King of the Monsters, a 1956 reworking of Toho Studio’s Gojira, released in 1954. The American version features new scenes with Raymond Burr expertly inserted into the Japanese version and dubbed into English. Both versions are interesting to watch. Aside from the movies themselves, the one thing I always appreciated about these movies was the poster art: colorful scenes of destruction with the giant beast front and center.
Blind Alley with Chester Morris as the criminal holding a family hostage was remade in 1948 as The Dark Past. In the household is a psychologist who shrinks Morris’s nasty character into reliving his bad upbringing. Originally based on a play called Smoke Screen (as noted by TCM), it also had television productions, one with Darrin McGavin (Night Stalker, baby!). Rather idealistic in how quickly the psychiatrist solves the reason for all the criminal behavior, I still like Morris’s turn at being psychoanalyzed.
While It Came From Hollywood, this pressbook for Tennessee Jamboree geographically would be more easterly. I never could watch Hee-Haw, but I do enjoy some country music (the old stuff mostly, some new stuff) and rockabilly, and toss in a strong fiddlin’ session and I’m aces.
Santo and the Royal Eagle (Santo y el Aguila Real) is a beautiful card with its illustration and title text and coloration overall, which uses the poster art for the movie. Irma Serrano (La Tigressa) had quite a career in Mexican cinema and politics, and started her film career with Samson vs. the Zombies with El Santo (cited from her Wikipedia article).
Notice that in AIP’s Warriors Five pressbook (hey, of course It Came From Hollywood) Giovanna Ralli takes the high ground in the poster art while the GIs blow up things and shoot off guns. A lot. Blame it on the male gaze and those legs selling seats in theaters for this war movie’s commercial focus. She, of course, plays the “lovely Italian hooker.” All hookers in Hollywood movies are lovely. The publicity plays her up with “Americans first look-see at sex-sational new star.” Yeah, try pushing that for a movie promotion today. Aside from Ralli, Jack Palance provides the leading man beefcake (with help from his international male cast). This production was a joint Italian, Yugoslavian, French(ian), and American endeavor. In the UK it was paired with a re-issue of Island of Desire with Tab Hunter and Linda Darnell, another war-centric movie about two people who wind up stranded on a deserted island (nope, no Gilligan or professor either). I always got Linda Darnell mixed up with Nanni Darnell, who was my first crush. I was six and she co-starred in 1960s television’s The Magic Land of Allakazam with Mark Wilson. I definitely would never confuse her with Anna Ralli. (One thing to note. I think the interior pages of this pressbook were pinkish in color, to balance with the cover. I changed the images to show a white page color to enhance readability.)
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