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Sunday, January 27, 2008

Mesa of Lost Women

Listen closely to that theme song. I hope you like it. Because it's going to play through the entire movie, almost non-stop. Anyway, this is one of those "must-see" titles that forms the basic foundation of any solid b-movie structure, and though you may wonder at times how the hell it managed to garner such a reputation, by the end of the film, the reason is clear: it has an awesome title.

So the story is that a man and a woman are picked up in the Mexican desert, half-delirious and ranting about destroying giant spiders. The man then recounts his most recent adventure, in which he becomes the hostage of a seemingly insane man who takes a group of people on a jaunty sightseeing tour to a mysterious mesa, where they promptly crash their plane and discover that the mesa is not unpopulated. A local mad scientist has spliced woman DNA with spider DNA, creating a sexy race of nigh unkillable female slaves who tend to perform sexy dances in the nearby cantinas. For fun and to round out his mad scientist shtick, there are also some dwarves and some giant spiders.

This one is pretty fun. Starts slow, but once it picks up, the movie becomes increasingly cracked in the head until it reaches the stratospherically loopy conclusion. Bombshell Tandra Quinn's slinky nightclub dance remains the signature moment in the film, and that alone is worth the price of admission. That the movie throws in evil dwarves and giant spiders for good measure is just an act of magnanimity. Plus, the crazed Dr. Aranya (oh what are the chances that a guy named Dr. Spider would go on to perform mad experiments involving spiders! That's almost as ironic as a guy named Dr. Freize getting super freezing powers) is played by Jackie Coogan, who would go on to play Uncle Fester. Make no mistake about it, Mesa of Lost Women is one of the greats of bad 50s B cinema for a reason. Watch it on a double feature with The Horror of Spider Island for all your sexy spider related needs.

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White Gorilla

Oh man, a couple days ago, was I making fun of Lost Jungle? I take back everything bad I said about that movie, because it was a thrilling spectacle compared to White Gorilla, a horrible film assembled out of the bits and pieces of an old silent serial with some new footage of guys lying on cots thrown in for good measure. It's yet another movie where a haggard dude stumbles into a camp and tells a story about how he got all tattered. So begins endless narration over old silent film footage of a jungle adventure film with no adventure involved, unless you consider watching guys in pith helms crouching in trees to be adventurous.

Writer/producer Harry L. Fraser also wrote an old serial called Perils of the Jungle, and most of the footage in this film comes from that. Guys in safari gear squat in the bushes and watch stock footage, which includes lots of elephants and a little white feral child-god who rides around on an elephant trunk in the most awkward looking position imaginable. Eventually, a black gorilla fights a white gorilla, and the racial implications are laughably obvious. Crash Corrigan plays both the hero and the gorilla the hero fights. The entire things seems like the people writing it forgot what they were writing about ten minutes in, and then just started making up a new film, but forgot that one, too. I know I hard a time remembering it as I was watching it. This was almost dumb enough for me to reminisce longly for Queen of the Amazons.

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Lost Jungle

Oh man, here we go with another jungle adventure. And since this one stars famed lion tamer Clyde Beatty, you can bet that at least half, if not more, of the movie's running time is going to be scenes of a dude with a whip and a chair messing around with lions. But before we get to that, let me ask a question: how can a jungle be lost? I mean, I can understand being lost in a jungle, or there being a lost something inside a jungle, but how do you lose a whole jungle? It seems to me that, even in the era of travel by dirigible, the losing of a jungle would go something like, "Hmm, where did that jungle go? Oh, there it is; that giant green patch that covers half of Africa." Anyway...

We open on, you guessed it, scenes of Clyde taming some lion and tigers while the junior Bowery Boys look on. In between scenes of lion taming, we get our plot: Claude's girlfriend wants to marry him before she sets sail in a clipper ship with her dad, but he's too busy taming lions to notice her advances, at least until the boat she's on gets shipwrecked. Now Clyde must spring into action to rescue her and bring back some more lions and tigers to tame, all while being oblivious to the fact that his assistant, Sharky, is trying to kill him. Once in the jungle, there's something about a lost city, but mostly, it's just scenes of people sitting around a campfire until Clyde shows up to crack a whip and tame the local wild man-eating lions.

This is better than most crappy jungle adventure movies, if for no other reason than most of the animals are actually present on set rather than represented by characters pointing at or walking in front of grainy stock footage. This lends an air of excitement and danger to the film that is absent from most other films of this type. Plus, when Clyde steps in to grapple with surly tigers and lions, he's really standing there with surly tigers and lions, and when those animals get fed up, they tend to let everyone know. Still, one old fashioned lion taming act might be thrilling in a movie. But Lost Jungle sees no reason to stop at one.

So if you like scenes of tigers balancing on top of rubber balls while bears do somersaults and a guy cracks a whip and wields a chair, then this is the movie for you. Because at just over an hour, I think about forty-five minutes of the movie is lion taming scenes. Fifteen minutes is people walking through a jungle set, and five minutes is Sharky staring menacingly. It's much more watchable than many other Poverty Row jungle adventures, but that's not saying a whole lot. But you might as well watch this one, because short of a good Tarzan movie, jungle adventure movies tend not to get any better. At least there's no lengthy elephant stampede, and they don't bring those wisecracking kids from the beginning along to Africa.

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Wednesday, January 23, 2008

I Eat Your Skin

This movie has one of those classic titles that were the bread and butter of the Halcyon days of drive-in movies. How can you not go see a movie called I Eat Your Skin? Well, I certainly can't go without seeing a movie called I Eat Your Skin, especially if it comes to me courtesy of Del "Monster of Party Beach" Tenney. Tenney's movie was originally called Voodoo Bloodbath, but when the movie got picked up to fill a double bill with I Drink Your Blood, the movie where a kid feeds a bunch of hippies some meat from rabid animals, causing them to turn into foaming-at-the-mouth cannibals, Tenney's tropical island zombie adventure became I Eat Your Skin, even though no skin is actually eaten.

The movie is about a writer, his wife, and some assorted others who head out to the menacingly named Voodoo Island, where they run into a mad doctor who has been transforming the locals into bug-eyed, oatmeal-faced zombies under the auspices of trying to cure some disease. Many scenes of white people staring into the jungle while ominous voodoo drums play ensue, until zombie hell breaks out in the final minutes (an assault on the science lab which is vaguely reminiscent of the final assault in Lucio Fulci's Zombie, only much less intense and interesting).

I Eat Your Skin is most often described as being boring, even though it's a short film. And while it's no thrill-ride, I found that I quite liked the movie, certainly more than I'd been lead to expect I would. It's well-acted even if the characters are broad, and there is a lot of energy even if very little is happening. Plus, it has a swinging score. The zombie make-up is pretty bad, but there has certainly been worse, and this is another film cut from the pre-Romero "zombies are enslaved locals" cloth pioneered by White Zombie. It's certainly no White Zombie in terms of quality or inventiveness, but even without being a classic, I Eat Your Skin entertained me.

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