The never-ending array of Bill Shute burns certainly pops up a few cinematic pimples, and it's obvious that Bill sure knows how to surprise a person with his choice of moom wonders to pass along to unsuspecting friends. Given some of the strangities that he has sent my way (see last week's I WAS A MAN for more startling evidence) who knows what's gonna be in store when it comes to slipping the ol' Dee-Vee-Dee into the slot'n waiting to see what sorta abomination's about to unravel before my very eyes. Now don't get me wrong, I love abominations (in fact I am one myself!), but as years of moom watching can tell you not all abominations are created equally as a flick like MAN BEAST will attest to.
Not really much I can say about this '56 romp which was the directorial debut of "turkey" film mainstay Jerry Warren, other than it's yet another one of those cheapazoid flicks that went straight from the zilch theatres in your area to your loco tee-vee screen in less than a year. And yeah, the subject of the Abominable Snowman (or, as they call it here, the "Yeti") is custom made for these kind of films I gotta say that I thought this 'un was quite snoozeville. Even with the staid acting, feh direction, slow moving plot and stock music roaring on no matter what the action on-screen is (all hallmarks of fantastic cinematic viewing) I really couldn't get into this 'un the way I could a downright charmer that Ed Wood or William Beaudine woulda made around the same time. Maybe it was just me, but MAN BEAST had my mind wanderin' around kinda like when I was back in high school and some suspiciously dykoid teacher was attempting to drill in the significant factors that made A SEPARATE PEACE such a meaningful novel when all I could care about it was the fact that the main character died because bone marrow got into his heart! Years later after suffering two broken arms that's all I could think about as if I truly was spending my final night on this earth because of my current malady! Like I said Wood, Beaudine or a variety of other directors coulda used the same actors and script and done a good cheapoid wonder job but this 'un just limps on w/o the redeeming value of trash aesthetics.
Another one for the terminally unemployed to catch on their local small wattage stations, and I guess that the presence of something to alter the spirit would help! You know, just like it did all of those Firesign Theatre and Grateful Dead platters that just didn't make sense once the "inspiration" had been spent. Of course I'd obviously take this 'un over the latest Scientology-laden big bucks bonanza in a flash, but not until I work my way through those Crown International Dee-Vee-Dee's that Lou Rone sent me a couple years back ifyaknowaddamean...
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