Heads That Talk: Be Careful What You Wish for Scientists

The Brain That Wouldn't Die: bottom of the barrel Z-grade programmer attained cult resurgence after its appearance as fodder to lampoon on Mystery Science Theater 3000, has a scientist/surgeon (Jason Evers) responsible for the death of his fiancé (Virginia Leith) when driving too fast around a curve, hitting a bridge, careening off resulting in her decapitation. He recovers her head and is able to successfully keep it alive! The rest of the film has the crazy doc (perfectly calm and dull) looking for a sexy body suitable for his beloved. Meanwhile, the severed head of Jan in the Pan openly initiates the rage of a monster (a product of early experimentation that went all wrong) kept locked in a cell in the lab to break out and kill those that left him and her freaks. Also in the film is Evers’ assistant (Anthony La Penna), swapping insults at each other while the real one responsible is out stalking for the proper victim to kill so that Jan can have a bombshell figure. No other way around it: this bad boy is a real turkey that deserves its camp status. It is awful in every respect. How the head is severed (there is one great moment where Jan reaches out her hand from the burning wreckage of Evers’ car), the search for the body (including a café-stripclub visit that ends with two strippers fighting over Evers’ attention!), the non-stop squabbling between La Penna and Leith, the performances (man-hating Adele Lamont with the scarred face takes the top prize for thespian wretchedness), the lengthy arm ripoff of La Penna (you can clearly see his arm bulging from underneath his coat!) he stretches for way too long for dramatic effect, the irritating Leith who can’t keep her mouth shut (and Evers even puts tape over her mouth at one point!), and the fiery conclusion where a chunk of Evers’ throat is chewed off by the monster in the cell (Eddie Carmel) and spit on the floor (!) as Jan in the Pan is pleased with her manipulative work to get control over the situation. This has its infamy based on the absurdity of the driving plot with the bitchy head starting trouble and how the whole film fails miserably at doing anything right. As rancid cinema, this isn’t as bad as contemporaries like Manos: The Hands of Fate, The Creeping Terror, or The Beast of Yucca Flats, but it sure does stink.

I shouldn't have used a prime time spot in October for this one. It is entertaining in its ineptitude, but perhaps I could have watched Night of the Living Dead instead. Says something that Turner Classics would give time to it during its October Fridays. I have a good feeling about the Cushing mad scientist film, Corruption, though...it is a new watch to me.