Wilber A Neil
Lifetime Total
1+
IMDb Member
22 years
Reviews
Prehistoric Women (1950)
Dumbest Narrator of All Time
Plot of this somewhat engaging loincloth romp: girl beats boy, boy beats girl, enlightenment, happy ever after. And if you can't follow the plot, don't worry, because the Worst Narrator of All Time will be happy to spell it out for you.
After her mother is clubbed one time too many by her caveman domestic abuser, Tigri and her gal pals take to the jungle with their pet panther and "the Wise One" (an irritating old crone). There they mature into leggy swimsuit models and "dance restlessly" "without knowing why", although we know why, and it has something to do with Loincloth Boy and his rugged pals, with whom and their ilk the lonesome doves have had nothing to do these many moons.
There is some marginally amusing reversal-of-sexes stuff as the gals club the caveboys into submission, but the tables are soon turned. Before we get too far into male dominance a visit from a pelican/ugly puppet, followed by a giant, nicely resolves our conflict.
The outstandingly Bad aspect of this otherwise modestly bad film is the narration. The dialog is spoken entirely in Cave-ese, which we moderns of course do not understand, so a helpful narrator is along to fill us in. Unfortunately in addition to translating the dialog the narrator insists on telling us WHAT WE HAVE JUST SEEN, EACH AND EVERY TIME, so that the entire movie consists of the viewer watching things like: the girls gesture at the guys to pick up a dead panther, whereupon the narrator solemnly intones in his best pear-shaped tones: "and the women force the men to carry the panther back to their jungle home", which of course is WHAT WE WERE JUST LOOKING AT. Since the narrator continues to state the bleeding obvious throughout the entire flick from beginning to end, it draws the viewer out of the story and into an "I can't believe how stupid this is" state of mind.
However there are people who take pleasure in doing exactly this, and for such people this is an under-appreciated candidate for Worst Film of All Time lists. I recommend it highly.
After her mother is clubbed one time too many by her caveman domestic abuser, Tigri and her gal pals take to the jungle with their pet panther and "the Wise One" (an irritating old crone). There they mature into leggy swimsuit models and "dance restlessly" "without knowing why", although we know why, and it has something to do with Loincloth Boy and his rugged pals, with whom and their ilk the lonesome doves have had nothing to do these many moons.
There is some marginally amusing reversal-of-sexes stuff as the gals club the caveboys into submission, but the tables are soon turned. Before we get too far into male dominance a visit from a pelican/ugly puppet, followed by a giant, nicely resolves our conflict.
The outstandingly Bad aspect of this otherwise modestly bad film is the narration. The dialog is spoken entirely in Cave-ese, which we moderns of course do not understand, so a helpful narrator is along to fill us in. Unfortunately in addition to translating the dialog the narrator insists on telling us WHAT WE HAVE JUST SEEN, EACH AND EVERY TIME, so that the entire movie consists of the viewer watching things like: the girls gesture at the guys to pick up a dead panther, whereupon the narrator solemnly intones in his best pear-shaped tones: "and the women force the men to carry the panther back to their jungle home", which of course is WHAT WE WERE JUST LOOKING AT. Since the narrator continues to state the bleeding obvious throughout the entire flick from beginning to end, it draws the viewer out of the story and into an "I can't believe how stupid this is" state of mind.
However there are people who take pleasure in doing exactly this, and for such people this is an under-appreciated candidate for Worst Film of All Time lists. I recommend it highly.
Eegah (1962)
Low Expectations Met
This is one of a number of movies which are strangely fascinating precisely for their failure to meet minimum standards of taste or execution.
This example, about a teenage dimwit who "discovers" a rather implausible prehistoric giant (Richard Kiel), has all the usual lovable failings of the low-budget feature: obvious low production values, bad writing, endless padding with scenes of people wandering about aimlessly, etc. Particularly bad points as follows:
1) Casting: Kiel is well cast as (duh) a giant, but the miscasting of Arch Hall Jr as a cool hipster has sparked legendary hatred. The critical vitriol directed against Hall Jr's odd, squashed-looking face is overheated, but justified by the bad casting: his boyish mug wouldn't be out of place as "hero's kid brother", but as the hero himself he is uncool, unmasculine, unhandsome, and altogether unacceptable. We are left rooting for Eegah to squash the little pest and ravish the fair maiden. Speaking of which:
2) Gross breach of taste. Hall's girlfriend Roxy (Marilyn Manning) is imprisoned along with her father in the creature's cave. Here things get really creepy. After introducing the pair to his ancestors (shrivelled mummies), it becomes evident that Eegah has been alone for too long. The nymphet is groped by the monster in full view of poor groveling Dad, finally getting her skimpy outfit all but ripped off after trying to "distract" the creature by tearing her own buttons off. Only an honest-to-God pervert would be able to remain involved in the story without thinking "this is really gross".
However the flick is still fun for those who like to play the Monty Python game "Spot the Loony". Movie is full of "characters" doing illogical, idiotic things that the slightest effort on the part of writer/director could have fixed.
This example, about a teenage dimwit who "discovers" a rather implausible prehistoric giant (Richard Kiel), has all the usual lovable failings of the low-budget feature: obvious low production values, bad writing, endless padding with scenes of people wandering about aimlessly, etc. Particularly bad points as follows:
1) Casting: Kiel is well cast as (duh) a giant, but the miscasting of Arch Hall Jr as a cool hipster has sparked legendary hatred. The critical vitriol directed against Hall Jr's odd, squashed-looking face is overheated, but justified by the bad casting: his boyish mug wouldn't be out of place as "hero's kid brother", but as the hero himself he is uncool, unmasculine, unhandsome, and altogether unacceptable. We are left rooting for Eegah to squash the little pest and ravish the fair maiden. Speaking of which:
2) Gross breach of taste. Hall's girlfriend Roxy (Marilyn Manning) is imprisoned along with her father in the creature's cave. Here things get really creepy. After introducing the pair to his ancestors (shrivelled mummies), it becomes evident that Eegah has been alone for too long. The nymphet is groped by the monster in full view of poor groveling Dad, finally getting her skimpy outfit all but ripped off after trying to "distract" the creature by tearing her own buttons off. Only an honest-to-God pervert would be able to remain involved in the story without thinking "this is really gross".
However the flick is still fun for those who like to play the Monty Python game "Spot the Loony". Movie is full of "characters" doing illogical, idiotic things that the slightest effort on the part of writer/director could have fixed.
The Killer Shrews (1959)
Not As Bad As All That
Having seen any number of bad movies, I can state that this is significantly better than most of them, and even better in part than movies not considered bad at all. However, in those aspects in which this movie is bad it is not merely bad, it is awful.
We have the usual formula of two-fisted hero (James Best), damsel in distress (Swedish Ingrid Goude), the damsel's mad-scientist father (non-Swedish Baruch Lumet), and the villain (Ken Curtis). The formula in this case is less clichéd than usual. The hero is fairly articulate and the mad scientist is actually quite urbane, tossing off his creation of hundreds of giant, poisonous, man-eating shrews with the line "unusual experiments lead to unusual results". The dialog is competently written and the acting is above par (with the exception of the Swedish eye-candy, who is at least good eye candy).
The general concept is compact and dramatically efficient: a group of people are trapped first by a hurricane and then by an outside menace in a stronghold which gets less and less strong as time, ammunition and group cohesion all grow short.
However the execution is at times illogical. One problem is that the stronghold is made out of...adobe. On a rainswept island crawling with usable timber? The thrilling conclusion is also somewhat implausible.
The main reason for the film's abysmal reputation is the legendary and quite obvious use of ordinary dogs in bathmats to play the part of giant shrews. I suppose this just has to be overlooked.
As a sidelight, it is interesting to see Dukes of Hazard sheriff James Best tall and handsome as the hero, and it is apparent that producer/villain Ken Curtis labored long and hard in the trenches before gaining fame as Festus.
We have the usual formula of two-fisted hero (James Best), damsel in distress (Swedish Ingrid Goude), the damsel's mad-scientist father (non-Swedish Baruch Lumet), and the villain (Ken Curtis). The formula in this case is less clichéd than usual. The hero is fairly articulate and the mad scientist is actually quite urbane, tossing off his creation of hundreds of giant, poisonous, man-eating shrews with the line "unusual experiments lead to unusual results". The dialog is competently written and the acting is above par (with the exception of the Swedish eye-candy, who is at least good eye candy).
The general concept is compact and dramatically efficient: a group of people are trapped first by a hurricane and then by an outside menace in a stronghold which gets less and less strong as time, ammunition and group cohesion all grow short.
However the execution is at times illogical. One problem is that the stronghold is made out of...adobe. On a rainswept island crawling with usable timber? The thrilling conclusion is also somewhat implausible.
The main reason for the film's abysmal reputation is the legendary and quite obvious use of ordinary dogs in bathmats to play the part of giant shrews. I suppose this just has to be overlooked.
As a sidelight, it is interesting to see Dukes of Hazard sheriff James Best tall and handsome as the hero, and it is apparent that producer/villain Ken Curtis labored long and hard in the trenches before gaining fame as Festus.