The Brain Eaters (1958) – Review

Having a loved one taken over by an alien creature has to be one of the more terrifying premises to be tackled by the science fiction genre, from the classic Invaders from Mars to Don Seigel’s Invasion of the Body Snatchers it’s a foundation that pretty much can’t miss when it comes to delivering both suspense and horror, that is unless you are one of the people behind the making of 1958’s The Brain Eaters.

Set in a small Midwestern town, the plot of The Brain Eaters revolves around a mysterious alien force that has invaded the Earth intending to take over human minds. The story begins when strange occurrences start to happen in the town, such as a large metal cone being found in the woods and a series of unexplained disappearances. As more and more people vanish without a trace, Dr. Paul Kettering (Ed Nelson), a local scientist, becomes increasingly suspicious. Enter Senator Walter K. Powers (Cornelius Keefe) who arrives in the town of Riverdale to debunk the idea of an extraterrestrial invasion, but is he right, is there something more sinister going on than your typical Flying Saucer scare?

 

“I’m definitely not an allegory for the Red Scare?”

Turns out this isn’t actually an invasion from outer space but from inner space. In a surprising twist, the plot of The Brain Eaters is about parasites coming from inside the Earth to latch onto the nervous systems of humans and turning them into nothing more than puppets. This is being done with the intensive purpose of forcing upon mankind a “life free from strife and turmoil” and thus creating a utopia. This information is vomited out by missing scientist Professor Cole (Leonard Nimoy), who was “infected” five years ago, but their plans for world domination didn’t stand a chance of succeeding because Kettering is your never-say-die hero scientist and before the film’s meagre 60-minute running time expires he’ll have figured out a way to stop these nefarious invaders from below.

 

The man smokes a pipe, who could doubt his abilities?

Stray Observations:

• The plot of this movie stole several elements from Robert Heinlein’s novel, “The Puppet Masters” which did result in a lawsuit that was settled out of court for $5,000 dollars.
• This movie takes place in the town of Riverdale but contains neither Archie Andrews nor Jughead Jones. Talk about a missed opportunity for some good synergy.
• We get Leonard Nimoy in one of his earliest roles but the producers didn’t bother with spellcheck as his name is misspelled Nemoy in the opening credits.
• One of Kettering’s tests on the mysterious cone is to fire a revolver into its open portal. Now, I’m no scientist but that seems not only reckless but insanely stupid.
• Senator Powers telephones the telegraph office to send a warning to the Governor but why not just call the Governor directly? Are telegrams considered more reliable than a phone call?
• Finding a strange mark on the back of someone’s neck would have been a dead giveaway if anyone in this film had watched Invaders from Mars (1953).
• That our brilliant scientist/hero doesn’t have the back of people’s necks routinely checked is a bit of an oversight, made even more hilarious by the “puppeted people” having an obvious pulsating hump on their backs.

 

“Officer, have you always had a hunchback?”

Directed by Bruno VeSota, The Brain Eaters presents an intriguing premise but one that falls short in execution and this resulted in a somewhat forgettable experience. The film’s limited resources seem to have constrained the creative possibilities, resulting in a production that struggled to compete with more polished works of its time…well, to be honest, this film struggles to compete with your average student film. Furthermore, the dialogue and acting in the film leave much to be desired as many of the lines come across as stilted and melodramatic, failing to elicit the intended sense of urgency or fear. While this may be characteristic of B-movie productions from the 1950s, it detracts from the overall quality of the viewing experience.

 

“Have any of you spotted the plot yet?”

The narrative itself is riddled with clichés and predictable plot twists, not helped by the voice-over narration that insists on constantly explaining to us what’s going on. It’s possible the director was worried the audience would nod off and the narration was to give an update to those waking up as to what’s going on. The characters are your typical one-dimensional offerings that you find in these kinds of things, and their interactions lack the depth required to engage the audience emotionally. The dialogue, often delivered in a stilted manner, further hinders the film’s ability to build a connection between the viewers and the characters. It’s hard to guess who is taken over by an alien parasite when everyone has about as much personality as a sea sponge. Worst of all, for a film called The Brain Eaters I expected a lot more in the way of brains being eaten.

 

“Has his brain been eaten? If not we’ll have to change the film’s title.”

That said, the film does have an eerie atmosphere and a few tension-building sequences with the black-and-white cinematography by Lawrence Raimond effectively contributing to the film’s overall mood, creating a sense of foreboding that permeates throughout, sadly, his efforts were unable to lift the film beyond the plot’s ponderous limitations. As for the movie’s title creature, the practical effects used to depict these parasitic monsters are less than commendable, even considering the film’s limited budget, as they look like fluffy bedroom slippers that someone stuck an antennae on.

 

“Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? SpongeBob SquarePants!”

In conclusion, while The Brain Eaters offers some enjoyable moments of suspense and atmosphere it ultimately falls short in terms of pacing, character development and dialogue. It may hold nostalgic value for fans of classic sci-fi/horror cinema and those wanting to see Leonard Nimoy in an early role but it is unlikely to appeal to a wider audience or stand out as a particularly memorable or groundbreaking entry in the genre.

The Crawling Eye (1958) – Review

A series of murders in a remote location is standard fill for an Agatha Christie mystery but with 1958’s The Crawling Eye cinema-goers were treated to a mystery with a bit of a twist, one that would see a group of heroes facing off against a truly terrifying killer.

Originally a British television mini-series called The Trollenberg Terror – which is the original title of this movie – the plot of this movie deals with a series of decapitations on a Swiss mountainside and that of United Nations troubleshooter Alan Brooks (Forest Tucker) who has a “holiday” set aside when he’s pulled in to solve the mystery. Joining in on the mystery are two sisters, Anne (Janet Munro) and Sarah Pilgrim (Jennifer Jayne), who are a mind-reading act that finds their trip to Geneva interrupted when Anne faints and becomes plagued with images of death and horror up on the Swiss mountain Trollenberg, and for some reason, this results in her insisting they get off the train at Trollenberg and book a hotel room.

 

“Sis, how about we stop for a bit of terror and death?”

Alan Brooks suspects that the recent deaths up on the Trollenberg are related to a series of similar incidents which occurred three years earlier in the Andes Mountains, which involved an unexplained radioactive mist and an odd cloud formation believed by locals to be inhabited. Brooks plans a trip to Trollenberg’s observatory to meet with Professor Crevett (Warren Mitchell) a renowned scientist who believes that a stationary and possibly radioactive cloud is responsible for several deaths up on the mountain but Brooks dismisses the idea as he’s already had his reputation damaged by prior claims that couldn’t be proven. Still, later, Anne and Sarah put on a mind-reading demonstration back at the hotel which leads to Anne having a horrifying vision of mountain climbers Brett (Andrew Faulds) and Dewhurst (Stuart Saunders) being led to their deaths.

 

Add this to my reasons for never climbing a mountain.

Dewhurst is found decapitated and Brett murders two members of a search party, who had found Dewhurst’s severed head in his backpack, and he then shows up at the hotel to try and murder poor Anne. But what could be causing such behaviour? Well, it turns out that the cloud hovering around the mountain is cover for the evil machinations of an alien invasion. Anne has become a target because her psychic abilities are a threat to their mission – that or they are just jealous that she can make money off of this talent while all they can do is hang around mountaintops – but before you can say “War of the Worlds” Brooks has figured out that the aliens have a weakness for heat, so after a few Molotov cocktails are made and a call to an Airforce bombing wing is made the alien threat is flambé.

 

“I love the smell of burning aliens in the morning, it smells like cheese.”

Stray Observations:

• One of the young climbers refers to The Abominable Snowman, which was a Hammer Film that also starred Forest Tucker.
• Aliens clearly love resurrecting and controlling dead bodies, having done so in such films as Plan Nine from Outer Space and The Invisible Invaders.
• The monster from The Crawling Eye makes an appearance in Stephen King’s horror novel “It” as a creature the children run into in the sewers during the 1958 segment of the novel.
• It’s no surprise that creatures hidden in the clouds, stalking a group of people, were partly the inspiration for John Carpenter’s film The Fog (1980).
• Jordan Peele’s Nope also dealt with a mysterious creature that hid behind a movie cloud. When you think Hollywood had popped out an original concept, we find it was done decades earlier.
• I can buy an alien creature with mental powers and the propensity to rip people’s heads off a lot more than I can the idea of a base camp up on a mountain having a phone line.
• This film contains one of my least favourite tropes, where a little kid will drop a toy and later return for it and thus encounter the monster/threat of the day.

 

 Not to sound callous, but there’s a thing called Natural Selection.

Directed by Quentin Lawrence, The Crawling Eye stands as a quintessential relic of its time, embodying both the charm and limitations of 1950s science fiction cinema. While revered by some as a cult classic, a critical examination reveals a film that struggles to transcend its formulaic narrative and technical constraints. At its core, the film follows a conventional sci-fi horror template: a group of characters, including an intrepid hero and a resourceful heroine, confront a mysterious and malevolent force in a remote location. In this case, the setting is a Swiss mountain village besieged by ominous fog and unseen terrors lurking within. While this premise has the potential for intrigue, the execution falls short of delivering a truly gripping narrative as the menace doesn’t prove all that threatening in the end.

 

A sharp stick would end this threat pretty easily.

The real stars of the show, however, are the titular crawling eyes—glowing orbs of menace that lurk in the misty Alps. Picture it, a bunch of grown adults cowering in fear from what can only be described as illuminated beach balls with a vendetta. It’s like a game of dodgeball gone intergalactic, only with an enemy that can be thwarted by a liberal dose of lit gasoline. While commendable for its time, the creature’s design and execution appear crude and laughable at times and the puppets used for titular crawling eyes, portrayed as glowing orbs surrounded by mist, fail to evoke genuine fear or suspense, detracting from the film’s intended horror elements. Additionally, the reliance on off-screen violence and implied threats further diminishes the impact of the creature encounters, resulting in a sense of detachment rather than visceral terror.

 

“My dear, there is nothing to fear but fear itself, also one-eyed puppet monsters.”

Despite these criticisms, The Crawling Eye possesses certain redeeming qualities that merit acknowledgement. The atmospheric cinematography by Monty Berman is excellent, particularly the use of mist-shrouded mountain landscapes, creating an eerie and foreboding ambience that effectively enhances the film’s sense of dread. Likewise, the film’s evocative score by Stanley Black contributes to the overall mood, heightening tension during key sequences. On the acting front, Forrest Tucker delivers a solid performance as the intrepid scientist, anchoring the film with his unwavering determination and rationality. Janet Munro does a great job as Anne Pilgrim, injecting the character with a sense of agency and resilience that defies the era’s conventions of female roles in genre cinema.

Note: The character of Alan Brooks is not to be found in the original television mini-series but to get an American distribution deal Forest Tucker’s character was created.

In conclusion, while The Crawling Eye holds nostalgic appeal for enthusiasts of vintage sci-fi cinema, its critical merits are overshadowed by formulaic storytelling and technical shortcomings. It is a fun genre entry with its atmospheric setting and intriguing premise – even if its titular monster is less than effective – so there is a lot to enjoy from this genre entry. As such, it remains a curious artifact of its time, best appreciated within the context of 1950s sci-fi cinema rather than as a groundbreaking work in its own right.

The Giant Claw (1957) – Review

In the history of cinema there have been quite a few “less-than-impressive” monsters to grace the big screen, from the lumbering tree monster in From Hell It Came to the giant locusts in The Beginning of the End, but in 1957 producer Sam Katzman topped them all with his offering of The Giant Claw, a movie that features one of the most hilariously looking monster of all time.

Directed by Fred F. Sears, The Giant Claw has achieved a certain level of notoriety, albeit for reasons that are less than complimentary to the filmmakers but is a boon to lovers of bad movies. The plot kicks off during a test of a new radar system that is located up near the North Pole, with civil aeronautical engineer Mitch MacAfee (Jeff Morrow) flying an observation craft while mathematician Sally Caldwell (Mara Corday) monitors things from the ground. The test is interrupted when MacFee’s plane is buzzed by an unidentified flying object that he describes as being “As big a battleship” but no one believes him, that is until more sightings of this UFO correspond with several aircraft going missing. Their research leads them to a shocking discovery – a gigantic, extraterrestrial bird is wreaking havoc on Earth and this monstrous creature is unlike anything humanity has ever encountered before.

Note: The description of the creature being “As big as a battleship” is used eleven times during the film’s 75-minute running time. It’s a shame that some of the movie’s meagre budget wasn’t spent on picking up a thesaurus.

As “The Giant Claw” terrorizes cities and decimates military defences, Mitch and Sally join forces with military officials to devise a plan to stop the creature’s rampage, unfortunately, neither Gen. Van Buskirk (Robert Shayne) or Lt. Gen. Edward Considine (Morris Ankrum) can do anything but growl and look inept. As the danger escalates their efforts are thwarted at every turn by the bird’s seemingly invincible nature and its amazing ability to evade conventional weapons. Turns out that the creature isn’t just from outer space – that would be too easy – our heroes learn from scientist Dr. Karol Noymann (Edgar Barrier) that this creature is from an anti-matter galaxy and because of this it has some form of “anti-matter shield” which protects it from all forms of attack. With time running out and the fate of humanity hanging in the balance, Mitch and Sally race against the clock to find a way to defeat “The Giant Claw” before it’s too late.

 

“I know, how about I make up some bullshit about exotic atoms?”

Stray Observations:

• If films like The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms and The Deadly Mantis have taught us anything it’s any kind of testing up in the Arctic is a bad idea. I don’t understand how Santa Claus gets anything done with all this going on.
• When it comes to measuring units some people use the imperial system while most, including the scientific community, use the metric system, but not here, in this movie the only measurement used is in comparing an object to the size of a battleship.
• While flying back to the States, MacAfee leans over and kisses a sleeping Sally, which is treated romantically and not as the sexual assault it is. It’s not like they were in any kind of relationship, other than surviving an attack by something as big as a battleship.
• Our hero determines the creature’s flight path by connecting the attack locations in a spiral pattern on a map. Still, any five random points on a map can be turned into a spiral without any underlying pattern.
• Some of the stock footage of panicked crowds running was taken from the science fiction classic The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951).
• Screenwriter Samuel Newman would later re-use the character name of “Dr. Karol Noyman” for the film Invisible Invaders (1959). No relation.
• Some of the film’s better special effects were recycled elements from Ray Harryhausen’s Earth vs. the Flying Saucers even to the point where you can see a flying saucer in the background of one of the attacks.

 

“I eat flying saucers for breakfast.”

Needless to say, one of the film’s most charming aspects is its special effects, which are both laughably primitive and yet strangely endearing. The Giant Claw itself is a marvel of low-budget ingenuity, resembling a cross between a puppet and a marionette that has gone seriously awry. Its jerky movements and comically oversized beak make it a memorable addition to the pantheon of classic movie monsters, and I for one applaud its nature. The producers originally planned to use a stop-motion model created by Ray Harryhausen but due to budgetary limitations they ended up with one of the goofiest marionettes ever created. It has been reported that the marionette of “The Giant Claw” monster, made by a model-maker in Mexico City, cost producer Sam Katzman a mere $50 dollars.

 

I’d say he was overcharged.

Actor Jeff Morrow has since stated that no one in the cast saw the title monster until they went to the film’s premiere in his own hometown, it was a surprise to him and most involved. The audience roared with laughter every time the monster made an appearance and he wound up slinking out of the theatre in embarrassment before the film was over, hoping no one who knew him would recognize him. This isn’t to say that the goofy puppet was The Giant Claw’s only problem, adding insult to injury is the film’s abysmal script, which features some of the most cringe-worthy dialogue ever committed to celluloid. Characters spout off monologues full of silly exposition with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, all the while scientific jargon is tossed around with reckless abandon leading to unintentionally hilarious exchanges that defy all logic and reason.

 

“Mister President, I’m pretty sure their making all this shit up.”

The screenplay, penned by Samuel Newman and Paul Gangelin, is riddled with clichés and uninspired dialogue and the narrative itself follows a predictable trajectory, with scientists and military personnel attempting to thwart the destructive path of the monstrous bird but the script’s attempts at suspense and tension are often undermined by its own unintentional campiness, preventing any genuine engagement with the plot or characters. The film fails to maintain a consistent tone, wavering between unintentional comedy and misguided attempts at suspense. And whatever happened to this anti-matter menace?  I like to think he became a regular on the Kukla, Fran and Ollie television show.

   

“Hi kiddies, can you guess today’s secret word?”

This film stands as a prime example of everything that could go wrong in a 1950s creature feature and is a masterclass in unintentional hilarity and cinematic ineptitude – this a film that would have made Ed Wood proud – and even the performances of the cast couldn’t help save this thing. Reliable actors like Morrow and Corday couldn’t salvage the sinking ship that is The Giant Claw because, despite their best efforts, they were saddled with thinly written characters and wooden dialogue that offered little opportunity for genuine emotional engagement or development.

 

“You shoot the writer, I’ve got Katzman in my sites.”

In conclusion, The Giant Claw is a feather-ruffling, campy delight that continues to entertain audiences with its infectious charm and infectious absurdity. Whether you’re a connoisseur of classic creature features or simply seeking an evening of nostalgic goofy fun, this low-budget sci-fi gem is sure to leave you squawking for more.

Attack of the Crab Monsters (1957) – Review

In the atomic age of giant monsters, Attack of the Crab Monsters proves that not all crustaceans are just shells and pincers – some have a wicked sense of humour too! This is a key ingredient if you’re going to make a monster movie on the cheap, and when it comes to cheap there is no better than producer\director Roger Corman.

“And the Lord said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth; both man, and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air; for it repenteth me that I have made them.” If you’re making a cheap monster movie it costs you nothing extra to class things up a bit by opening with some nice Biblical narration. Produced and directed by legendary B-movie director Roger Corman, Attack of the Crab Monsters tells the story of a group of scientists and their support crew of five sailors who land on a remote island in the Pacific Ocean to find out what happened to a previous expedition that disappeared without a trace. Needless to say, the reason for their disappearance isn’t due to a storm or the island’s rampant seismic activity, it’s a pair of giant crab monsters.

 

“You were expecting a forty-foot woman, perchance?”

Our cast of characters is led by Dr. Karl Weigand (Leslie Bradley) and includes geologist James Carson (Richard H. Cutting) and biologists Jules Deveroux (Mel Welles), Martha Hunter (Pamela Duncan), and Dale Drewer (Richard Garland). This group also includes technician and “Jack of all Trades” Hank Chapman (Russell Johnson) who will be the voice of reason and the one voted most likely to sacrifice himself to save the party. Their mission is to discover what effect the recent atomic testing on a nearby island has had both biologically and geologically on this particular Pacific Island. Unfortunately, geological instability is the least of their problems as they soon learn that the earlier group had been killed and eaten by two mutated, intelligent giant crabs, who have eaten and absorbed the minds of their victims and can now speak telepathically in their voices.

 

“Does anybody know how to treat a bad case of crabs?”

The plot is as nutty as a squirrel’s secret stash of acorns. Giant crabs that absorb intelligence? Really? It’s like the writers played Mad Libs with sci-fi tropes, and we ended up with a script that’s part horror, part comedy, and all parts crustacean chaos. But who cares about logic when you’ve got crabs with attitude? From the opening scenes, it’s clear that Attack of the Crab Monsters doesn’t take itself too seriously. The dialogue is delightfully cheesy, filled with classic B-movie one-liners and exaggerated reactions. Despite its low budget, the film makes the most of its limited resources, creating a surprisingly eerie atmosphere through clever lighting and location shooting. This is what makes Roger Corman’s films so entertaining. So, with a few stoic scientists, a damsel in distress and enough bad science to sink the Titanic we have a ragtag team of adventurers who are determined to outwit the crabs and save the day, even if it means sacrificing their dignity in the process.

 

“I know we should have visited the Island of Doctor Moreau instead.”

Stray Observations:

• For a group that is studying the effects of radioactive fallout from atomic tests they don’t seem all that concerned with radiation, they don’t even bother checking a Geiger counter.
• Hank Chapman refers to biologist Martha Hunter’s study of marine life as “The woman handles the seafood” and he’s supposed to be one of our heroes.
• If you are awoken by the voice of a lost and presumed dead person calling out “Help me” maybe don’t wander off into the jungle alone to investigate.
• Going by films like The Thing from Another World and Killdozer the best way to get rid of a monster is electricity and Roger Corman doesn’t disappoint with this outing.
• We did get a decent giant crab movie a few years later in the form of Ray Harryhausen’s Mysterious Island (1961).
• Seven years later, actor Russell Johnson would be trapped on another island as The Professor on Gilligan’s Island.

 

“Who wants to go on a three-hour tour?”

The screenplay, written by Charles B. Griffith, injects a touch of humour into the story, unintentionally creating a sense of campiness that has since become a trademark of 1950s creature features. The dialogue often leans towards the cheesy side, with characters delivering lines that may elicit unintentional laughter from modern audiences. But it’s not just the dialogue that’s a riot; the special effects are a sight to behold. Sure, by today’s standards, the giant crabs might look more like oversized plush toys than terrifying monsters, but that only adds to the charm. And let’s not forget about the classic B-movie tropes—shaky sets, dramatic music cues, and actors running from rubbery claws in slow motion. It’s a recipe for hilarity!

 

“Could we get some melted butter over here?”

While Attack of the Crab Monsters may not have the polish of a big-budget Hollywood production, it more than makes up for it with its sheer entertainment value, it revels in its campiness and embraces the absurdity of its premise. The actions of our protagonists often defy logic – the amount of time they spend wandering dark caves inhabited by monsters is quite impressive – the result is a film with a severely diminished emotional impact, leaving little room for empathy or investment in the outcome of these sometimes-moronic heroes. For fans of classic B-movies and creature features this is a must-see cult classic that gave the world a very unique monster. Additionally, the film’s brisk runtime prevents it from overstaying its welcome, ensuring that its flaws are at least somewhat mitigated by brevity. It stands as a testament to the creativity and resourcefulness of Roger Corman, a man who could make almost anything for the cost of a sandwich.

 

“Up on the shore, they work all day. Out in the sun they slave away.”

It’s these kinds of outings where Roger Corman demonstrates a certain level of creativity in his direction, effectively utilizing the film’s tropical island setting to create an atmosphere of isolation and claustrophobia, raising the end product to a surprising degree. In the end, Attack of the Crab Monsters is a quaint relic of its time, worth watching for its historical significance in the B-movie genre, but not necessarily for its cinematic merits. You either love the giant crab puppet or you don’t, but if you are a fan of Roger Corman’s school cheap movie-making, I’m betting you’ll love it.

Creature with the Atom Brain (1955) – Review

You have to admire a 1950s sci-fi/horror film that boasts the tagline “Based on Scientific Fact!” in a story about atomic resurrected zombies. That kind of marketing has balls. In this outing, producer Sam Katzman blends film noir, horror and science fiction with somewhat expected results. Let’s sit back and take a look at Creature with the Atom Brain.

The movie opens with a hulking zombie breaking into the office of a gangster named Hennesy and brutally murdering him, but who could be behind this horrible attack? Enter Frank Buchanan (Michael Granger) your average gangster with a vendetta and a brilliant idea “Let’s use radioactive zombies for some good old-fashioned revenge!” But where does a gangster get his hands on radioactive zombies? Cue Dr. Wilhelm Steigg (Gregory Gaye) a scientist whose research needed some financial backing and so he turned to Buchanan for the funding needed to complete his research on powering the dead via electrical impulses and atomic power, making them undead puppets.  And before you can say “Doctor Frankenstein” he’s populating his lab with stolen corpses.

 

I’ll admit, Steigg has a great mad science setup.

Called into investigate this murder is Crime Doctor Chet Walker (Richard Denning) who is the type of hero who gets right down to business and is always on the right track, even if his theories are crazy and people laugh off such statements like “According to the evidence, Hennesy was murdered by a creature with atom rays of superhuman strength and a creature that cannot be killed by bullets.” Needless to say, he’s right, and after a few more murders he and Police Captain Dave Harris (S. John Launer) have figured out that all of the victims are connected to deported gangster Buchanan. Soon the army is called in and jets fill the sky as they search for the location of the lab that is churning out zombie killers, but can our heroes figure out how to stop such a nigh-unstoppable army in time?

 

“If you look here on our Mad Science scope, the answer is obvious.”

Stray Observations:

• An altruistic scientist, who wants his invention to help mankind, teams up with a murdering gangster because he needs funding. Yeah, the private sector is a real bitch.
• Police offer the two men who they suspect are the next targets of Buchanan protection in the form of “We’ll put you in jail.” That these men turn down such a “nice” offer isn’t that surprising. Wasn’t Witness Protection a thing in the 50s?
• Jet aircraft that travel at supersonic speed would be completely ineffectual at finding one lone building containing radioactive material. I’m starting to wonder if this movie was based on scientific fact.
• Director Edward L. Cahn would use the same premise of resurrected corpses in his 1959 film Invisible Invaders.
• Say what you will about the film’s somewhat questionable visual effects it is one of the first movies to use squibs to simulate gunshot wounds and it was done quite effectively here.
• An atomic-puppeted Dave Harris is sent out to find the location of Buchanan’s remaining two targets, but the scar from the “brain surgery” is clearly visible. Couldn’t the have found him a nice hat to hide it?

 

“Dave, have you always had that strange scar on your forehead?”

Directed by Edward L. Cahn and produced by Sam Katzman, this low-budget gem has garnered a cult following over the years for its entertaining mix of suspense and B-movie charm. And while the science found in this movie is about as accurate as what could be found in an Ed Wood movie – despite what the poster claimed –this is all part of the appeal of this era of science fiction/horror. The “atom brain” creatures, created using practical effects and makeup, exude a creepy and otherworldly presence that is a nice take on the zombie genre, their lifeless stares and relentless motion provide just the right amount of tension and suspense. Unfortunately, the cinematography, though attempting to capture the noir aesthetic, is marred by inconsistent lighting and uninspired shot composition. The use of shadows, a hallmark of the noir genre, is often more distracting than atmospheric, detracting from the film’s overall visual appeal.

 

“Bring me more radioactive brains.”

The cast delivers solid performances, with Richard Denning anchoring the film as the intrepid police scientist who is determined to stop Buchanan’s diabolical scheme, and Gregory Gaye’s portrayal of Professor Steig is a step away from your archetypal mad scientist with a chilling charisma as he’s not so much mad as he is just strapped for cash and makes a poor choice when it comes to investors. On the other hand, Michael Granger’s Frank Buchanan is your stereotypical gangster that has appeared in many Cagney or Bogart-type films. His hiring of a scientist to use reanimated corpses as his tool for revenge plan is the only interesting thing about him.

 

Cue death via his own machinations.

While this entry exhibits elements of its era’s fascination with atomic energy and noir aesthetics it does struggle to rise above the clichés and shortcomings typical of low-budget productions, but despite its modest budget and limited resources, Creature with the Atom Brain does succeed in delivering an entertaining and memorable viewing experience. Richard Denning, a staple of 50s science fiction, delivers every ridiculous piece of science gobbledygook with aplomb, and the film’s blend of noir atmosphere and Cold War paranoia makes it a nice example of the “Atomic Age” of cinema.

Sleeping Beauty (1959) – Review

Once upon a time, in the golden age of Disney animation, a princess named Aurora dozed off, and a classic was born! It was in 1959 that Walt Disney gave us this technicolor dreamscape where we learned that a kiss really could solve all your problems! And while Sleeping Beauty was not a success on its initial release it has since become a beloved classic to millions of fans.

The story begins in a faraway kingdom, where King Stefan (Taylor Holmes) and Queen Leah (Verna Felton) joyfully welcome the birth of their daughter, Princess Aurora. To celebrate her arrival, the royal couple hosts a grand christening ceremony, inviting nobles from across the land, including King Hubert and his young son, Prince Phillip, who is betrothed to Aurora. Among the esteemed guests are three good fairies—Flora (Verna Felton), Fauna (Barbara Jo Allen), and Merryweather (Barbara Luddy)—who come to bestow magical gifts upon the newborn princess.

 

“Hi, we’re the all-powerful comic relief.”

Unfortunately, wicked fairy Maleficent (Eleanor Audley) was left off the guest list and she arrives in a storm of dark magic, enraged by the snub. Maleficent curses the baby princess, declaring that on her sixteenth birthday, Aurora will prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die. I must say, while being snubbed isn’t cool, laying a death curse on a baby is a pretty heavy overreaction to being left off a guest list, then again, I’m not The Mistress of All Evil. Lucky for the royals, Merryweather was able to mitigate the curse with her own “magical gift” so that instead of dying, Aurora would fall into a deep sleep, only to be awoken by true love’s kiss. Needless to say, Maleficent is not one to take such things lying down.

 

“Did I come at a bad time?”

Despite Merryweather’s actions, King Stefan is desperate to protect his daughter so he orders every spinning wheel in the kingdom to be burned, but the good fairies know this will not be enough to thwart Maleficent’s evil so they devise a plan to hide Aurora until her sixteenth birthday, taking her to a remote cottage in the forest and raises her as a peasant girl named Briar Rose (Mary Costa). Sixteen years pass, and Aurora grows into a beautiful young woman, unaware of her royal heritage or the curse that hangs over her. But one day, while wandering through the forest, singing of falling in love – which is pretty standard Disney Princess activity – she attracts the attention of Prince Phillip (Bill Shirley), who just so happened to be riding by.

 

“Do you guys believe in love at first sight?”

Sadly, true love is put on hold when the three good fairies reveal to Briar Rose her true identity, as well as her arranged marriage to Prince Phillip, not realizing he is the same man she had just met in the forest. Heartbroken, Aurora reluctantly agrees to return to her parents and fulfill her duty as a princess. However, Maleficent’s raven Diablo spotted magical activity – the three good fairies had a magical argument regarding the colour of Aurora’s gown – and reports back to her mistress that the princess has been found, who immediately sets a trap and lands herself a prince.

 

I’m not all that surprised Maleficent was into bondage.

Things may look dark but the goodness and virtue aren’t down for the count just yet. Prince Phillip is rescued by the fairies, is given the Sword of Truth and the Shield of Virtue, and fights his way through a thorn forest, where he encounters a rather peeved Maleficent who transforms into a fearsome dragon and turns the thorn forest into an inferno. But like any stalwart hero, he ultimately defeats the villain and makes his way to the side of the beautiful sleeping Aurora, who he awakens with a kiss and breaks the spell over the entire kingdom and they throw a grand ball for these crazy kids. My only question is “Is this the basis for a long-term relationship?”

 

I give these kids three months tops.

As was the case with the adaptation of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Disney made several key changes to the classic fairy tale. In the Disney version, three good fairies are invited to the christening but in the original tale it was a group of “Wise Women” which causes the king a bit of a problem as there are thirteen Wise Women and he has only twelve gold plates as gifts. So, he decides to only invite twelve and simply not tell the thirteenth one about the party. Things go as expected, eleven bestow their gifts upon the child, gifts like beauty, virtue, and riches, but before the twelfth can give the child her gift in walks wise woman number thirteen and a shit storm.

 

Who forgets to invite the Mistress of all Evil?

Another key change concerns the hero, in the Disney version Maleficent threatens to keep Prince Philip imprisoned for a hundred years before releasing him to “rescue” Aurora, and when the prince escapes Maleficent creates a thorn barrier and turns herself into a dragon. In the original tale, once Briar Rose had been cursed a hedge of thorns started to grow around the castle, each year growing higher and higher until finally the entire castle was covered. Over the years random princes from far-off lands would try to get through to look at the princess but they’d all get caught in the thorns and die. Eventually, after one hundred years, one special prince gives it a try but instead of dying on the thorns the hedge of death turns into beautiful flowers that part for him and he then goes to where the princess, kisses her and this wakes her up and everyone else in the castle.

 

“Excuse me sir, but do I know you?”

Stray Observations:

• In the Brothers Grimm version, Sleeping Beauty is named Briar Rose while in the Tchaikovsky ballet, her name is Aurora. Disney solved this problem by giving their heroine both names.
• Queen Leah is the first mother of a Disney Princess to be alive during the film until Mulan came along in 1998. It’s tough being a Disney mom.
• The fairies claim that their magic cannot be used maliciously, “It can only do good, to bring joy and happiness” but later Merryweather turns Maleficent’s raven into stone and they later create an enchanted sword to slay Maleficent. Those sound a trifle malicious to me.
• The castle for Sleeping Beauty is based on the Neuschwanstein castle in Bavaria, Germany, which also inspired the castles in both Snow White and Cinderella.
• Due to its less-than-financial success this was the last fairy tale-based Disney movie until The Little Mermaid was released thirty years later and started the Disney Renaissance.
• Only one other Disney animated film was shot in the Technirama format, that film was 1985’s The Black Cauldron which was another Disney box office disappointment. Was the format Cursed?
• Disney gets a lot of grief for “sanitizing” these classic fairy tales but I’ll say this, in the original fairy tale there was no mention of a dragon and for this addition, I thank Disney from the bottom of my heart.

 

This is easily one of cinema’s greatest dragons.

One of the most striking aspects of Sleeping Beauty is its unique visual style, which stands apart from the softer, more rounded aesthetic of earlier Disney films like 1937’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and 1950’s Cinderella. Inspired by medieval art, particularly the illuminated manuscripts and tapestries of the Gothic period, the film’s backgrounds and character designs have a distinct angularity and precision. This style, spearheaded by Eyvind Earle, the film’s art director and production designer, creates a rich tapestry of colour and form that gives this film a storybook quality unlike any other Disney film. Simply put, it’s a feast for the eyes and Disney went all out with its medieval tapestry style, and it shows. Every frame is dripping with colour and detail. It’s like looking at a moving painting—an extra pretty one, not those boring landscapes your grandma hangs in the dining room.

 

This is possibly the most gorgeous of all the Disney animated features.

The score for Walt Disney’s Sleeping Beauty is one of the film’s most defining elements, elevating it from a simple fairy tale to a majestic cinematic experience. Adapted from Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s 1890 ballet of the same name, the music weaves through the film like a rich tapestry, adding emotional depth, narrative cohesion, and a sense of timeless beauty to the story. One of the most iconic musical moments in the film is the “Once Upon a Dream” sequence. Based on the “Garland Waltz” from Tchaikovsky’s ballet, this song is a perfect blend of lyrical romanticism and melodic accessibility. It serves not only as Aurora’s signature piece but also as the emotional heart of the film, encapsulating the themes of love, destiny and enchantment.

 

The music and the landscape are in perfect harmony.

But let’s be real, as great as the film’s art direction was and how the score was a classical banger, the real star of the show was Maleficent, Mistress of all Evil. With her dramatic entrances, sinister laugh, and the ability to turn into a freakin’ dragon, Maleficent is the original Disney diva. You can’t help but root for her—even if she is cursing infants. Plus, she’s got the best lines. “Now you shall deal with me, O Prince, and all the powers of hell!” If that isn’t one of the most badass villain lines ever uttered, I’ll eat my tiara. The Disney studio would later return to this iconic villain for their ongoing live-action remakes, but with Maleficent we didn’t so much as get a remake but a re-imagining where Maleficent was a more sympathetic character.

 

This Maleficent does not have much of a good side.

On the downside, Aurora is, to put it bluntly, one of Disney’s least compelling heroines. She has roughly eighteen lines of dialogue and is only in the film for a total of eighteen minutes, she sings two songs and then takes a nap, it’s like Disney asked the question, “What if we made a movie where the title character doesn’t actually do anything?” Aurora is less a character and more of a plot device. She’s very beautiful and has a very lovely singing voice but other than being a skilled napper there isn’t much to her character. To bolster her limited range, we have her three fairy guardians—Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather—who provide both comic relief and emotional depth, driving much of the plot with their well-intentioned magic and sisterly bickering.

 

They are good fairies but terrible dressmakers.

If one is to poke fun at the title character it must be pointed out that the film’s hero isn’t much better. Prince Philip is handsome, brave and utterly devoid of personality. He dances, he rides a horse, he kills a dragon, he kisses the girl, the end. Not exactly the most fleshed-out character in cinema history. And just how heroic is Prince Phillip? After he is freed by the fairies they tell him that he alone will have to face certain dangers in his battle against Maleficent, which is a nice sentiment but the fairies pretty much aid him at every turn, right up to the final defeat. It’s here where their magic causes Phillip’s sword to fly into Maleficent’s heart while she is in dragon form. a moment that does lead to one of the film’s other great lines, “Sword of Truth, fly swift and sure, that evil die and good endure!”

 

The ultimate clash of good versus evil.

Sure, the story may be simple—girl meets boy, girl gets cursed by evil faerie, girl takes a long nap, boy kisses girl and everyone lives happily ever after—but that’s part of the film’s charm. This is a tale as old as time, told with the kind of magic that only Disney could muster and if you’re in the mood for a nostalgic trip down memory lane, or if you just want to see how a spindle and a well-placed curse can change everything, Walt Disney’s Sleeping Beauty is the perfect film to get lost in. Just be careful—you might find yourself humming “Once Upon a Dream” for days!