When the syringe is falling down, you make the best of what's still around

Since we've already posted four reviews this week, assiduous readers have probably guessed that we're playing catch-up at the moment. And rightly so: the two films in this entry were watched ("mistakes were made") back in March, and all told we've got about nine movies in our backlog. (We're a little more than halfway through the equivalent of the Horror Classics boxset, for those keeping score at home.)

However! Just as a good telemarketer answers your call in the order it was received, so too do Umbrellaheads review movies in the order we watch them (with rare exceptions). It keeps things simple, and honest too. We have to be truthful to our journey, man.

So the coincidence that marks today's entry is no contrivance. These two movies were watched one after the other, and in both of them, a key scene involves a syringe falling off of a laboratory table. With the exception of Behind the Music marathons, how often does that happen?

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The Ape (1940)

Grade: D

In this corner, we have Dr. Bernard Adrian (Boris Karloff), an outcast scientist struggling to find a treatment for paralysis so a young woman (Maris Wrixon) might walk again. If only he could find a source for the serum he needs...


("I had a yen to see you get on a leg. Or two. You dig?")

And in this corner we have a crazed ape, caged and tormented by the visiting circus, that escapes and wreaks havoc on the local yokels:


(The bad men put him in a box and now he is a mad ape. Oh, woe.)

Who wins? Well, not the viewer who has to endure the ghastly print used by Mill Creek. It looks good in still shots, but skips so much that the movie loses 3-4 minutes from its original running time. Dialogue gets hacked to bits, major plot points become hard to follow, and we start cracking up. (If you want a DVD with no skips, there's apparently a Karloff double feature that pairs The Ape with the spy movie British Intelligence.)

Who loses? To our surprise, not this guy:


("I did not wed you, so I want to do you. I am SO bad! So, are we on?")

Not only is he a shady businessman, but he carries on a blatant affair (with the woman in the picture above). When his wife gently asks him to stop, he basically tells her to go kill herself. And what happens to him? Nothing! He goes 100% unpunished! It's an interesting twist, though sometimes realism is less satisfying than the tidier option.

Anyway, the movie is watchable despite the scrambled print, but little more than that. The plot teeters between the predictable and the implausible, and a few memorable scenes and images don't really make up the difference. But if you like jerks, this one's for you!



("But you wed me, not her! Do not go yet...can we not eat in our hut, we two? You and me?"
"No way. As far as I see it, you can go eat poo and die."
"But why? Why?"
"Hey, I'm a bad man. It's who I am.")

---

Maniac (1934)

Objective Grade: D
Gleam-Powered Bonus: A


("When you wish upon a syringe / Soon you'll crave a murder binge...")

Like the Ed Wood films, enough has been written about this movie that we don't need to repeat it here. Plus we don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen it -- and if you haven't seen it, put it on your very, very short list.


("If you're troubled by the gleam / No behavior's too extreme...")

Drop in...I'll flatten you.

The Giant Gila Monster (1959)

Grade: C/C-

Despite the rickety start, this engaging little romp is almost impossible to dislike. Of course the premise is threadbare, the acting often terrible, and the eponymous monster is unmistakably a regular ol' gila monster shot in close-up.


(This little fella looks sorta like one of P.'s distant relatives.)

But the movie is just so relentlessly good-natured and pleasant, we couldn't help but be won over. Everybody's nice to each other (with one notable exception) and there's hardly a bad apple in sight. Heck, the town sheriff even gets along with the local kids, and makes an effort not to ruin their fun!


(The two male leads share a tender moment.)

Our main protagonist is one of those kids, and quite a busy fellow he is! A mechanic by day and engineering student by night, he also finds spare time to help the sheriff, woo his French girlfriend, care for his polio-stricken little sister, and build the perfect hot-rod.

Oh, and he likes to sing, too. That's his true passion.


(Our hero singing "The Mushroom Song". Is it a banjo? Is it a ukulele?)

In fact, The Giant Gila Monster is very nearly a movie about music. One of the secondary characters is a famous DJ, several key scenes involve music in some way, and the score -- which alternates between theremin schlock and "Yakety Sax" -- is prominent throughout. Plus half the cast seems ready to burst into song at a moment's notice.


(The town drunk reaches for a high note to match his high BAC.)

Don Sullivan is an engaging presence onscreen, with an easy, unselfconscious charisma that made us surprised to learn that he never really had much of a career. Too bad.

Perhaps the most telling sign of The Giant Gila Monster's charm is that, unlike so many other movies of its kind, we were actually rooting for the hero to make everything come out OK.

Of course, that was never really in doubt, since about five minutes in, we're dropped a pretty obvious hint about how things will end...


("Hello? Is this 1-800-NITRO-4-U?")

So gather round, steamboats and dreamboats, and give 74 minutes of your time to The Giant Gila Monster. It won't thrill you, and it certainly won't chill you, but it's got a pleasant spirit and decent miniature work. Heck, it may make you hearken back to a simpler time when people cared about each other, grown men could sing to little girls without creeping everybody out, and your local mechanic might well be the next big pop star.


("And then I said to that Kraut, no, you Heil Hitler!")