Tag Archives: entertainment

Something with a Vampire

In my continuing quest to find cheesy horror movies to write about, I turned once again to Steven’s DVD boxes set of 50 Horror Classics, purchased for him by me out of a discount bin.

Spoiler Alert! Although I will try to avoid mentioning the big reveal. It is a big one. In fact, already I’ve said too much.

As I sit here writing this, I suddenly realize I am not 100 percent clear on what the title is. Something with a vampire. The Vampire Bat? Or was that the one I saw with Vincent Price and Agnes Moorehead? So many vampires, so little time. I know I can look up these things before I type this into the computer, but I thought it said a little something about the movie that I could not recall the title. Or about me. In either case, I found it of interest.

The vampire killings start before the first scene of the movie. We open on a meeting of important men of the village discussing the murders. It’s vampires, insists the burgermeister (and any time there is a burgermeister in one of these movies, how many flash onto Santa Claus is Coming to Town and Burgermeister Meisterburger? Raise your hands).

There are no vampires, insists the sheriff or marshal or whatever he is. He is dressed like a plainclothes detective and is apparently the only cop the place has. At least, I don’t remember seeing any other cops. Probably a low budget production.

Our hero states that he will seek out a human murderer and goes to visit his girlfriend, conveniently located in the next room. I wasn’t clear on the geography of this movie, but that’s what it looked like to me. Oh, and he has to go down some steps, which seems appropriate, because it looks like a mad scientist’s laboratory. It belongs to the village doctor. Fay Wray is his assistant.

My girl Fay does not get to crack wise, like she did in Mystery of the Wax Museum nor yet to scream her head off as she did in King Kong. I was naturally disappointed. Also on hand is Fay’s aunt, a hypochondriac who is constantly after the doctor to prescribe for her, using some impressive if malaproppriate medical terms (I just made up that word malapropriate: malapropism + appropriate). She was my favorite character, especially since they let Fay be so boring.

The other character of note is a half-wit who says bats are good, making him an object of suspicion to the villagers. You can tell he is a half-wit, because he speaks of himself in the third person. He likes to catch bats and pet them and put them in his pocket. Is anybody else reminded of Lenny in Of Mice and Men? Our half-wit does not fare a whole lot better.

Things get suspenseful, even given poor Fay’s lamentably underscripted character. I don’t really want to say too much, because I was intrigued and a little surprised by how things unfolded. A little confused, too, because Fay’s part was not the only thing underscripted.

On the whole, I enjoyed the movie. But now I want to view Mystery of the Wax Museum again. So I can watch Fay Wray crack wise.

Note: It is The Vampire Bat, 1933. The one with Vincent Price and Agnes Moorehead is The Bat, 1959. I wrote a blog post about it.

What? No Peter Cushing?

Spoiler Alert! I’m actually not going to give a lot away, especially not the ending, because I had stopped paying much attention by that time. In my defense, it was Saturday night and way past my usual bed time.

I DVR’d Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb (1964) with high hopes, thinking it must be the sequel to The Mummy, which I enjoyed recently. As I learned from Ben Mankiewicz’s pre-movie commentary, it is the second of four Mummy movies made by Hammer Studios (I referred to them as Hammer Films in my post on The Mummy, but I specifically noticed Mankiewicz said Hammer Films this time) (in the interests of accuracy). The movie was directed by the son of the guy that owned Hammer at the time. I suppose that would explain it.

My first disappointment was that neither Peter Cushing nor Christopher Lee were in the movie. I like Lee better as Dracula than as the Mummy anyways, but I felt Cushing was a real loss. Still, I thought I would try to enjoy it. A Hammer Studios monster movie must be worth a watch, right?

The movie opens with some guy tied by his hands to two stakes in the desert, guarded by an Arab-looking guy (1960s Hollywood version) (but I didn’t need to tell you that). A group of nomad-looking guys ride up on horses. Without a word, one of them kills the guy and chops his hand off. This gives everyone a good laugh (except, of course, the dead guy), and they ride off with the severed hand.

Cut to a luxurious tent, apparently the living quarters of the archaeologists excavating the tomb. A guy is pouring a French lady another drink. She flirtatiously asks is he trying to get her drunk. He says he will try to do so when they return to London (another spoiler: he doesn’t), and she coquettes that she will let him. It must be pretty dry out there, even for a desert, because I didn’t think he was such a much.

It turns out the dead guy of the previous scene is her father. She flees in tears.

“Let her go,” somebody says wisely to the boyfriend. People are always saying that in movies. I don’t know if they do in real life, because I am usually the one fleeing in tears, or at least I was in my dramatic adolescent past (although in my case, I sadly suspect it was more of a collective, “Thank God she’s gone!”) (but I digress). I think in the case of this movie, the movie makers wanted French Lady to be alone when she discovers in her bed (I did include a spoiler alert, didn’t I?) the severed hand (oh, you probably saw that coming; I did).

Another dramatic shock happens when they discover a dead body amongst the artifacts they are taking back to England. I got a good laugh over that, because, well, the body looked a little comical. Meaning no disrespect to the fictional dead.

Speaking of good laughs, Steven and I both cracked up when… I can’t remember who said what, but suddenly everyone froze in a dramatic pause and looked at… the sarcophagus. Which looked a little like Tutankhamen with a pig nose.

Soon they’re on a boat headed back to England. A couple more dramatic things happen, including the introduction of a mysterious, handsome stranger. He beats up a would-be assassin and tosses him overboard. That seemed a little careless to me. Wouldn’t you, for example, like to ask the guy who he works for?

Things get a good deal less exciting in London. French Lady starts playing Old Boyfriend against Handsome Stranger, but that isn’t very compelling, because Old Boyfriend doesn’t get very jealous. We find out, via dialogue, not demonstration, that French Lady is a rather brilliant Egyptologist, having studied hard to earn her father’s love (remember him? She doesn’t seem to). It seems Old Boyfriend wants her for her brain. What an insult! It is so refreshing that Handsome Stranger understands she wants a home and to stay in it. Well, this is before the feminist ’70s (no, I am not going to entertain a discussion on family vs. career; this is not that kind of a blog).

Where was I? Ah yes, losing track of the movie. It’s not what you call fast-paced and action-packed. And I don’t remember the ending. Something happens in a sewer after we find out a BIG secret about Handsome Stranger. So if this movie pops up again on TCM, I may try to watch it till the end. I may even write another blog post about it.

Not a Scooby Doo Plot

Spoiler Alert! I don’t really give much away this time, but it’s become a habit to include an alert.

I admit I DVR’d The Mummy on TCM thinking it was the black and white version. You know how I love old horror movies. When I found out it was the Hammer Films production from 1959, I figured it would still be worth a watch.

I already knew that Hammer had revitalized the horror genre in the late ’50s and early ’60s. What I learned from Ben Mankiewicz’s pre-movie commentary was that for the first few movies they made — Dracula and Frankenstein flicks — they had to be careful not to infringe on the copyrighted portions of movies previously released by Universal. After the success of the earlier films, Hammer was able to negotiate with Universal for re-make rights. The Mummy is the first of those re-makes.

That was very interesting to me. Now I want to see the older version more than ever, to see what they changed. And I may like to write a blog post contrasting the earlier, non-infringing movies with the re-makes.

The movie stars Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, veterans of previous Hammer films. Lee gets to be the monster this time, and he was not nuts about the extensive make-up, according to Mankiewicz. I can see where an actor might find it limiting, although Lon Chaney reportedly found it liberating. I wonder if George Clooney would like to try it. But I digress.

Cushing plays one of the archaeologists responsible for desecrating the tomb of… oh dear, I don’t recall the lady’s name. I may have written it in the TV Journal as I watched, but even if I did I am not at all confident in my spelling. It was some high priestess or other. There is a rather elaborate backstory about how the Mummy became her guardian. Someday I’ll have to look up some actual Egyptian legends to see how much Hollywood was really pulling our leg.

Speaking of leg, Cushing’s is broken, and his uncle has this nutty idea Cushing should return to civilization and get it properly set by a doctor. Of course he does no such thing. For one reason, he would avoid the Mummy’s curse and how would that have helped the movie? Later on he gets to walk around with a romantic limp that, quite frankly, I thought was going to figure into the plot more prominently.

Speaking of romantic, Cushing has a beautiful wife who, in one of those typical movie coincidences, happens to look JUST LIKE the lady in the tomb. Oh well, I suppose you could make up some rationalization about how Cushing is such a dedicated Egyptologist that he subconsciously fell in love with a girl who looked just like an Egyptian. Or something of that nature. I guess I don’t really have a problem with this sort of thing. It figures into the plot and makes the flashbacks easier to cast.

All the usual elements are here: warned against desecrating the tomb, desecrating the tomb anyways, leaving the Mummy’s first victim alone so that nobody quite knows what happened. At one point I said, “Oh, that would be a good plot: the guy that warned them does the killing himself and makes it look like the Mummy’s doing it.” Then I remembered that is the plot of almost every Scooby Doo mystery (although they didn’t usually deal in murder). I only steal from the best.

Cushing indulges in some typical stupid movie male activity. I know I usually rail against stupid movie females. In fact when movie males do it, it is brash or daring or refusing to play by the rules. As usual I must admit, if people in movies had any brains they would sit quietly at home and we would have boring movies (although I bet these days there is some yahoo with a webcam showing exactly that on YouTube). Cushing’s wife doesn’t do anything too stupid. Alas, she does not do much of anything else, either, the sad fate of many a movie female.

The movie does have what was for me a major “Waaaait a minute” moment, but to tell you that would entail quite a long plot summary and a major spoiler (alert notwithstanding). I enjoyed the movie. I think I am becoming a Peter Cushing fan.

Welcome Back, Wuss-Out Wednesday

I just remembered something: Wuss-Out Wednesday. Not a feature I use very often. Need to have one today.

Not a good writing day. See, I’m even writing in sentence fragments right now, which is not a vice in which I usually indulge (although I did keep from ending that sentence on a preposition) (which bothers some people).

I wrote a little bitty bit on my novel. Then my breaks at work were taken up with other important stuff, like talking to my husband on the telephone and working on the crossword puzzle with my co-worker. It is a bad idea to neglect the whole rest of your life just because you want to be a writer.

Now there’s a topic suitable for the half-baked philosophy portion of Lame Post Friday: work/life balance. How much life does a middle-aged woman such as myself really need? Mae West famously said it’s not the men in your life but the life in your men, but I don’t think that really applies here. Just thought I’d throw it in, although perhaps I should have saved it for Non-Sequitur Thursday.

However, it is neither Friday nor Thursday. And I may be working this weekend, so the days of the week may be rendered meaningless in any case. Be that as it may, I must think of something reasonably entertaining to say for today (I just noticed I used “may” three times in two sentences, but that may be OK).

The Powerball Lottery has reached some ungodly amount. I put in for a workplace pool. You know how often groups at work win the lottery. I don’t expect to win, but just in case, I didn’t want to be the one yahoo showing up for work on Monday because I was too cheap to pitch in the two bucks.

“No, that’ll be Darren and Mark,” said Jenny (not their real names).

“I’ll send them flowers if we win,” I said. Then I remembered that my husband had also purchased a Powerball ticket. I asked Jenny if she and the others would sue me if he won.

“No, but you’ll have to share it with us,” she said.

“I’ll buy you pizza,” I promised. I hope we win more than two dollars. It would be awkward to buy pizza for a whole section on two dollars.

The Incredible Shrinking Blog Post

As a change from a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post, how about a post about Why I Can’t Write About This Movie. Having just thought of a good title, I see I must also keep this one short.

Spoiler Alert! Because even as I say I am not writing about this movie, I may inadvertently give something away. Perhaps one day I will do a post on why I feel so obligated to always give a spoiler alert.

I DVR’d The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957) because I was certain a science fiction movie from the ’50s would offer the cheese content I desire. Will I ever learn my lesson about that?

It turns out the movie was part of a new feature on TCM (at least new to me; I don’t know how long they’ve been doing it), Essentials Junior. The Essentials, a feature I sometimes catch, shows the movies you must watch if you aspire to be a real cinemaphile (my computer says that’s not a word, but isn’t it?). Robert Osborne and a co-host of varying degrees of credibility discuss it beforehand.

Bill Hader hosts Essentials Junior, and he starts out by giving a plot summary. What’s that all about? I hate to be given a plot summary! And it seems really pointless in this case. I mean, we’ve tuned in, we’ve already decided to watch the movie. What do we need a plot summary for? As I expressed my feelings about this in the TV Journal, Hader went on to make some more substantive comments about the movie and the times in which it was made. However, I missed most of them, because I was busy writing about my disgruntlement.

Incidentally, the irony is not lost on me that as I sat there decrying plot summaries, most of my movie posts are just that.

That is really the most interesting thing I have to say about The Incredible Shrinking Man. The movie was not particularly cheesy. The effects were actually pretty good for their time. Oh sure, there was the occasional inconsistency in perspective. You’ll have that.

The problem I had with the movie — and I emphasize that this was only a problem for me, not a bad thing about the movie — is that it was deadly serious. It was, dare I say it, philosophical. And their philosophy was not half-baked! What can Mohawk Valley Girl say about a movie like that?

I promised a short post, so I’d better shut up now. Maybe this was another foolish post, but in my defense, at least this time it wasn’t all about me.

The Post is Cheesier than the Movie

I DVR’d Paid (1931) purely because it starred Joan Crawford. I don’t know why I do that. Back in the days of the studio system they simply ground out movies. Even the few stars that never signed or fought their contracts made a few stinkers. Then again, shouldn’t I be looking for a stinker, given my penchant for writing about cheesy movies? I thought it was a win-win situation. Turns out not so much.

Paid was made pretty early in Crawford’s career. So early, in fact, that some would say it was before she was really Joan Crawford. By that of course I mean without the famous eyebrows and shoulder pads. She already has a presence, though, or she does as the movie progresses. In the first scene she looks pretty terrible as she is sentenced to three years in prison for theft she did not commit. She shows a flash of strength as she vows revenge on the man pressing charges, the owner of the department store where she slaved away for wages that didn’t pay the bills.

They don’t waste too much time in prison, but long enough for Crawford to make a friend who promises her a way to make money when they get out. This turns out to be prostitution, which our Joan does not end up going through with. At least, she goes home with a guy but doesn’t sleep with him, so I guess it’s prostitution. You know how circumspect these old movies are about sex stuff.

After turning down an invitation to lead a different life of crime, she finds a “legal” way to make money. Suddenly she’s all self-confident and calling all the shots. And the cops are SO after her. Then the plot gets a little convoluted.

She marries this handsome rich young thing, who turns out to be — surprise to us but not to Crawford — the son of the store owner she has vowed revenge against. I guess marrying the son is her revenge. And she claims not to love him, although she can’t look him in the face when she says so.

Her crooked friends — who were never quite comfortable living on the right side of the law anyways — are conned into one last big score. Of course that is a movie staple to this day: one last big score.

This was about the time I left the room to make popcorn, leaving Steven to keep track of what was going on. It wasn’t just my usual not paying attention mode: this is a boring movie. I don’t know why. The plot actually seems pretty good. And Joan Crawford — there could be no possible objection.

I’m afraid my write-up is pretty boring too. I am in a hell of a mid-week slump and I don’t know that things are going to get any better. I look forward to Non-Sequitur Thursday and Lame Post Friday. I do hope you’ll stay tuned.

Accidentally Uncheesy

Spoiler Alert! I don’t know why I’m even putting a Spoiler Alert on this one, because I am really going to try not to spoil anything.

I usually like to write about cheesy movies, but I accidentally watched kind of a good one yesterday and thought I’d like to write a few words about it.

When I first decided to DVR The Whole Truth, I thought it starred Farley Granger. Then I saw it was Stewart Granger, who I am not at all familiar with. Still, the plot involved a wife who did not believe her producer husband had stabbed his actress lover (that was in the description on digital cable). That sounded pretty good. Maybe it would be like a Bluebeard thing, with the wife all unsuspecting and the husband plotting against her. Perhaps it would include some stupid movie female behavior I could rail against.

The wife is played by Donna Reed, which is movie shorthand for Perfect Wife. Who would plot against Donna Reed? OK, I’ve only seen Donna Reed in a couple of things and the only one I recall with any clarity is It’s a Wonderful Life. But I’ve heard.

Stewart Granger, it turns out, is pretty hot, in a ’50s leading man sort of way. I can see why the actress lover won’t let him go easily, although, truth be told, she is the sort whose motto is “Every man for myself.”

The movie opens right at the exciting part, then flashes back to what got us there. And that’s about all I want to tell you about the plot, because it is a nice twisty, turny one. There are a couple of “What the hell?” moments, and a whole lot of “How’s he going to get out of that?”

I recommend the movie. I don’t know if it’s available on DVD, because it is not listed in VideoHound’s Golden Movie Retriever 2005 (Thomson Gale, 2005). I thought VideoHound listed everything. Leonard Maltin doesn’t list it either. But if you come across it on TCM like I did, check it out.

If You Like the Psycho-Biddy Genre

Spoiler Alert! I’m going to give away practically everything for the following movie, because I want to comment on what happens.

I wasn’t going to write about this one at all, because I ended up disliking it so much. However, I mustn’t be selfish. Some of my readers like to read my movie write-ups. And I think many of them particularly like the psycho-biddy genre.

When I saw Whatever Happened to Aunt Alice? (1969) on the schedule for TCM, I immediately set it to DVR. We subsequently discovered (but were not surprised, considering the title) that it was produced by Robert Aldrich, the man behind Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte (original title Whatever Happened to Cousin Charlotte?).

Aunt Alice stars Geraldine Page and Ruth Gordon. What a pedigree! How could we go wrong?

A better question is how could the script writers go so wrong? The movie opens promisingly enough with a funeral and Geraldine Page all set to be a merry widow. The next scene reveals to her and us that in fact she is left penniless. On to the murders!

The move wastes no time in getting to the murders. On must give them that. My problem is they don’t really explain what’s going on. I know from the description the lady kills her maids for their money and uses their bodies to fertilize her garden, but if that had not been the description, I think I would have gotten a little confused.

Another minor caveat, she’s not exactly fertilizing a garden. She gets her gardener to dig a big, deep hole, gets the maid into the hole and kills her, then plants a big old pine tree on top of the body. That old lady planting a big old pine tree (not a sapling, like a normal murderer would plant) is one of the most unbelievable parts in the picture.

Probably the most unbelievable part is how she gets the maids to work for her in the first place. According to this movie, there are plenty of lonely old ladies with large bank accounts willing to work for chicken scratch. Oh, and who are prepared to work for a raging virago. Seriously, Page is so mean I can’t believe she can get anybody to work for her.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Page was still killing the first maid. In general I have no problem with a thriller that gets right down to the killing. In this case, however, I could have used a scene where she gets the idea to kill the maid for the money. For one thing, they could have explained how the maid got so much money in the first place.

So there Page is, living in Arizona (also never explained) (at least I don’t think she started out in Arizona). At this point I usually make a little self-deprecating remark about how I ought to pay more attention to these things. I’m not sure it would have done any good.

Before Page offs the second maid (that we see; there were others in between), we see a little more of her method. Apparently she dangles her highly profitable stock market investments till the maid invests her own life savings. Without meeting the magic broker or signing any kind of contract. Well, I guess that’s not so far-fetched. People make a lot of stupid mistakes when they think they will get a large return.

Soon another tree is planted and Page is looking for another maid (we suspect now there have been other murders judging by the row of pine trees) (and can I just say, who plants pine trees in the desert, for heavens’ sake?). Enter Ruth Gordon, and we see some more of our killer’s evil method.

“I won’t pay you much,” she says smoothly, as if this were a minor glitch, like not having a vacuum cleaner. “So you won’t be able to save much.”

For God’s sake, who does that? Who makes it a job requirement that the employee have savings because the job pays crap? And who takes a job under those circumstances? Working, I remind you, for a mean, nasty old lady who treats you like dirt?

Then there’s this random beautiful chick who moves into the cabin next door with her nephew. This is a set-up right out of a romance novel: she’s a grieving widow and the nephew has really bad asthma, so the family sends them both to Arizona to heal their respective wounds. Only, of course, she’s not the main character and there’s no Mr. Rochester-type brooding mysterious guy for her to be suspicious of slash fall in love with (yes, you need to say “slash”). What a waste of a perfectly good set up!

She does get a love interest, by the way. It seems both our biddies have nephews. Page’s is married but I doubt that would stop him if Widow were having any of it. She’s not. She has some history with Gordon’s nephew, yet another thing not very well explained. It figures hugely into the plot, however, when they’re off canoodling while Gordon could REALLY use her nephew’s help.

I haven’t even gotten to the dog yet! Beautiful Widow and Asthmatic Boy (yes, it’s her nephew, but I think there are entirely too many nephews in this movie) adopt a stray dog. Of course anybody watching this sort of movie is immediately apprehensive on the dog’s behalf (unless you are an animal hater, in which case, stop reading now, we have nothing to say to each other).

Page is obviously (and not surprisingly) a dog hater. She is additionally concerned that the dog will dig up her handiwork, but come on! Each maid is six feet under with a pine tree planted on top. No mutt is going to dig that shit up without a backhoe.

I had a lot of other problems with this movie, but I think my post is running a bit long. Which, by the way, the movie did, too. I suppose it was entertaining, because I did watch it through to the end, but I didn’t like it. Still, if you like the psycho-biddy genre, it might be worth your time.

Keeping It Lame

There are times when one certainly appreciates Lame Post Friday (one is me in this case). However, one must also admit (still me) that even on Lame Post Friday, one must write something.

One might think I had thoroughly hashed out the subject of How Stupid of a Post Still Counts as a Post (one is not me in this case). One might be right. On the other hand, I’m betting most of my readers don’t read every single post (but God bless you if you do!). On a third hand (using my foot as a hand?), perhaps I can think of something new to say.

Well, I think I did. Using a foot as a hand is not a silly joke I have made before. Perhaps some did not find it a particularly funny joke, but at least it had the charm of originality.

Oh, here’s some half-baked philosophy: what can you say when originality masquerades as talent? Another question: just because something has never been done before is that sufficient reason to do it?

I’m thinking right now of some current and recent movies (like in the last few years). Some movie makers are known for “pushing the envelope” (I might research where that expression came from for another post. I mean, what envelope? Just saying). Torture porn falls under this category, as do ultra violent films. I’m not saying none of these films have artistic merit (I don’t watch many movies from this century). I’m asking, does their entire merit consist in the fact that they have done something that has never been done before? Discuss amongst yourselves.

Well, that was a totally wimp out discussion. You may have noticed I did not mention any specific movies or in fact make a strong stance on the issue. I just brought up the question.

In my defense, the heat wave in the Mohawk Valley continues, and neither my place of employment nor my residence boast air conditioning. And anyone who is rolling their eyes and forming the words, “You think you’ve got it bad” or “I don’t want to hear it,” just give it a rest. My brain has been baked, steamed, boiled and stewed for five days now. This is all I got.

The Bluebeard Blues

Some time ago I was unable to complete a blog post about a cheesy movie, although I managed as usual to write something about how I couldn’t write anything (funny how that works). Today I shall try again.

Oh, yeah, usual Spoiler Alert.

I decided to take a break from my flooding woes with a movie from “50 Horror Classics,” the DVD collection I purportedly bought for Steven on his last birthday (I say purportedly, because I’m the one that watches them) (and because I like the word “purportedly”).

I chose Bluebeard (1944) starring John Carradine. I seemed to remember that Carradine was Kung Fu on a TV series years later, but I never used to watch that show, so I could not be sure (later my husband Steven told me it was David Carradine. I guess there were a few of those Carradines).

Leonard Maltin says this is a “surprisingly effective story” (Leonard Maltin’s 2013 Movie Guide, Signet, 2012). I’m surprised he thinks so, although I often disagree with Maltin.

The action takes place in Paris, I forget what year (if they ever said so), but the ladies are in long dresses and big hats. Some unknown murderer is strangling ladies and dropping them in the Seine. At least, since it is Paris, I thought it must be the Seine. I kind of shy away from the water scenes after my recent flooding experiences (that’s in addition to my usual not paying too much attention).

Nobody wants anybody to walk home alone. Some girls leaving work impatiently await their co-worker. She sidles out and tells them they needn’t have waited. She is blonde and obviously “the sexy one,” so I accordingly waited for her to make trouble, perhaps leaving that sweet, innocent-looking brunette to be the heroine.

Sweet Brunette introduces her friends to this puppeteer they meet while walking safely home. He hasn’t been giving many puppet shows lately, because of people not wanting to stay out so late, what with the murderer in all. The girls talk him into it, leading to a rather long scene with no action except for these puppets singing opera.

It turns out Sexy Blonde, not Sweet Brunette, is the heroine, but she stops acting so Mae-West-y about the time the puppeteer/murderer asks her to make some costumes for his puppets. Um, you knew as soon as I mentioned the puppeteer he was going to turn out to be the murderer, didn’t you? Oh well, that’s why I include a spoiler alert.

It seems this guy is also a painter. He paints a lady, then kills her. I gather he dates his assistant, dumps her when he goes to paint another lady, then comes back to the assistant after he’s strangled the lady he painted. I found it a little convoluted, but I guess I’m easily confused.

Maltin says the killer “falls for smart girl… who senses something is wrong.” Oh well, I suppose she is smart enough, but she’s no intrepid girl reporter. I’ll be perfectly honest, I was not paying a great deal of attention by this time and I don’t remember much. This whole review is written from my notes in the TV Journal and the blurb in Leonard Maltin.

I must say I think my posts about not being able to write about this movie were more effective than my actual post about the movie. However, since it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday, I make bold to hit publish. Wait till you read about the next cheesy horror movie I watched.