THE REVENGE OF DR. X (1970)
aka THE VENUS FLY TRAP
Directed by Kenneth G. Crane
Regal VHS
THE FILM
From the concrete of Cape Canaveral
to the beaches of Japan, the brilliant
Dr. X has his stuff together. He
knows what he wants and he gets
it. Alas, great power always comes
with a price. In this case, the
good Doc just happens to be the
crankiest a-hole on the face of
the earth. Line it up, ladies. Your
Prince Charming is here.
The bizarre warmth that surrounds
The Revenge Of Dr. X is
beautifully insane. Scripted for
hire by Edward D. Wood, Jr. during
the early stages of his porn work,
this is a truly cracked film that
exists in a reality unknown to everyone
but the filmmakers themselves. The
general push of the movie concerns
mood-swingin' Dr. X (40s western
vet James Craig) and his experiments
with monstrous Venus Flytraps. But
comprehension doesn't come that
easy. Gently unfolding like a living
Clutch Cargo episode in
the context of your Grandpa's Super
8 vacation footage, Ed Wood, Toei
Studios, and director Kenneth Crane
(The Manster) put the booze
-- I mean money -- where their mouth
is. Result: half a dozen drained
bottles of Vodka and the blackouts
to prove it.
For some reason, Dr. X is stressing
out at his rocketship base in Florida.
His Japanese assistant suggests
a working vacation in Japan. For
the next hour, we tag along with
Mr. X as he meets his new assistant
(barks insults at her, falls in
love, then barks more insults),
drives around in his convertible,
leads a diving excursion with a
crack team of topless females, and
finally experiments on a Venus Flytrap
comprised of Play-Doh and banana
hair clips. There's also a Hunchback,
complete with organ death march
strains whenever his smiling face
pops up. Soon enough, a two dollar
Frankenstein lab transforms Sir
Venus Trap into one of the most
amazing cheapo monsters I've ever
seen in my life. Move over, Sting
Of Death. Food chain chomps:
the monster begins scarfing down
puppies and rabbits, then moves
to the Hunchback, then onto regular
villagers. If only that volcano
can explode in time...
Led with much gusto by James Craig's
unbelievably insane performance,
Dr. X packs so much technical
absurdity into its 90 minute runtime
that the "plot" becomes
invisible. Hammond organ exotica
twinkles away on the score to a
Baby Huey cartoon while overlaid
images, grainy stock shots, and
extreme close-ups relay the day-in-the-life
affairs. The first hour of the film
is comprised entirely of padding
and montage sequences, giving way
to the strange dialogue mannerisms
that would most likely never come
out of a human being's mouth. Eddie,
baby, you still had it. When the
monster bursts forth, he communicates
through waving his flytrap mitts
and emitting backwards sound effects;
the screen turns red and somebody's
dead. Could this film be anymore
breathtaking?
Eventually, the broken English and
gutter dubbing made me feel like
I was stranded in a foreign country;
no money and no means of communication.
Panic. Naturally, I saw stars and
fainted. When I woke up, James Craig
yelled at me, laughed hysterically,
then fell off of his chair. What
a pal.
AUDIO AND VIDEO
For godsakes, this looks like hell.
The gang's all here: major ghosting,
doubled images, random noise, and
mud-tastic clarity all take center
stage. Surprisingly, the good ol'
mono sound was loud and clear.
EXTRAS
Regal is like Vestron. No class!
Although we do get some spliced
credits, care of Mad
Doctor Of Blood Island.
FINAL THOUGHTS
The Revenge Of Dr. X is
a drunken haze of awe-inspiring
strangeness, the kind of random
accident that makes you feel lucky
to just witness it. Begin the search
immediately.
— Joseph A. Ziemba, 11.10.05 |
It all makes sense now
In need of hair
EYE see you (ho ha!)
The greatest
|
