I was looking to laze around and let off some steam when I got home from work today so naturally I turned on a compilation video of 50s and 60s drive-in sci-Fi horror movie adverts and commercials as white noise because it’s what I love. You are quickly reminded of two things, though. First off is that we have receded as a society when it comes to naming things. I’m barely kidding when I feel like I was put on earth to read sentences like “Frankenstein Meets The Space Monster” or “The management will supply you free space shield eye protectors to prevent your abduction into outer space” (an offer I’m very sad to have missed out on displayed on the poster). The second is that the future is much less intriguing and fun and zany than they thought it would be. There are indeed no Forbidden Planet robots that can nurse our children or automated kitchens that make our food so we can sit and smoke because it’s 1950 and we don’t know any better. Still, I have to give credit where credit is due: there may not be any martians, but I can hit a few various buttons on a couple machines and suddenly have Frankenstein Meets The Space Monster projected into my skull. Maybe the world ain’t so bad after all.
I’m a big fan of any duo where the woman looks like a beautiful queen and the man looks like a pale little ghoulish freak. Completely gorgeous starlet and a Weekly World News creature. Kinda the dream, actually. Not sure how to quite express the idea that this film is a 2.5/5 but also probably what I would be okay drifting away into sleep to every night simultaneously but alas here we are. The heart next to the score has more weight this time around. Just a wonderful science fiction soup of weirdness. It came from a can, don’t get me wrong. It’s certainly not homemade, but boy would I like another bowl! I eat this shit up!
Very much in love with the fact that Frankenstein is not in the film nor does it have pretty much anything to do with Frankenstein. There is just a guy named Frank and they called it close enough. Beautiful stuff, exactly why I love B-Horror. More, please. Bring Princess Marcuzan and Dr. Nadir back and make more monster movies that are just complete lies. Where is The Werewolf Meets The Space Monster where The Werewolf is just a hairy Italian guy named Wolf? Where is The Mummy Meets The Space Monster where The Space Monster finally gets to clash with a normal human mother? What good is a movie if it’s not constantly tricking you with its most basic premise?
Despite that, is anyone opposed to me saying that Mary Shelley’s soul can be at peace after this? No? I think it’s exactly what she would have wanted with her work and the best part is that I can just say that with no consequences and no one can correct me since this is my review. In fact, this is probably the best thing to come out of her work overa
Hey guys this is Hayden’s mom as you can guess someone shot him in the head through his apartment window. We think it’s probably for the best. Either way we are donating this phone and Letterboxd account to the local children’s hospital so any reviews you read from here on out are NOT by Hayden. Remember this when you read them. We are just glad this is the last thing he ever saw, it’s what he would have wanted.
I was looking to laze around and let off some steam when I got home from work today so naturally I turned on a compilation video of 50s and 60s drive-in sci-Fi horror movie adverts and commercials as white noise because it’s what I love. You are quickly reminded of two things, though. First off is that we have receded as a society when it comes to naming things. I’m barely kidding when I feel like I was put on earth to read sentences like “Frankenstein Meets The Space Monster” or “The management will supply you free space shield eye protectors to prevent your abduction into outer space” (an offer I’m very sad to have missed out on displayed on the poster). The second is that the future is much less intriguing and fun and zany than they thought it would be. There are indeed no Forbidden Planet robots that can nurse our children or automated kitchens that make our food so we can sit and smoke because it’s 1950 and we don’t know any better. Still, I have to give credit where credit is due: there may not be any martians, but I can hit a few various buttons on a couple machines and suddenly have Frankenstein Meets The Space Monster projected into my skull. Maybe the world ain’t so bad after all.
I’m a big fan of any duo where the woman looks like a beautiful queen and the man looks like a pale little ghoulish freak. Completely gorgeous starlet and a Weekly World News creature. Kinda the dream, actually. Not sure how to quite express the idea that this film is a 2.5/5 but also probably what I would be okay drifting away into sleep to every night simultaneously but alas here we are. The heart next to the score has more weight this time around. Just a wonderful science fiction soup of weirdness. It came from a can, don’t get me wrong. It’s certainly not homemade, but boy would I like another bowl! I eat this shit up!
Very much in love with the fact that Frankenstein is not in the film nor does it have pretty much anything to do with Frankenstein. There is just a guy named Frank and they called it close enough. Beautiful stuff, exactly why I love B-Horror. More, please. Bring Princess Marcuzan and Dr. Nadir back and make more monster movies that are just complete lies. Where is The Werewolf Meets The Space Monster where The Werewolf is just a hairy Italian guy named Wolf? Where is The Mummy Meets The Space Monster where The Space Monster finally gets to clash with a normal human mother? What good is a movie if it’s not constantly tricking you with its most basic premise?
Despite that, is anyone opposed to me saying that Mary Shelley’s soul can be at peace after this? No? I think it’s exactly what she would have wanted with her work and the best part is that I can just say that with no consequences and no one can correct me since this is my review. In fact, this is probably the best thing to come out of her work overa
Hey guys this is Hayden’s mom as you can guess someone shot him in the head through his apartment window. We think it’s probably for the best. Either way we are donating this phone and Letterboxd account to the local children’s hospital so any reviews you read from here on out are NOT by Hayden. Remember this when you read them. We are just glad this is the last thing he ever saw, it’s what he would have wanted.
