Mad Scientists

The Tingler

Vincent Price stars as an obsessed doctor who discovers that fear manifests itself as a parasitic creature which grows on the spinal cords of terrified people. If they scream the Tingler can be destroyed. If they don't it will sever the spinal column and kill them. He successfully isolates and removes the Tingler from a deaf mute (Judith Evelyn) who has been scared to death by her devious husband. Once captured the Tingler escapes and runs amok in a crowded movie theater. Terror is loose but can it be stopped? THE TINGLER is legendary horror director William Castle's magnum opus. After the success of The House on Haunted Hill Castle devised a new gimmick called "Percepto" for the Tingler. Participating theaters would wire seats so that random moviegoers would get a tangible electric shock during climactic moments in the film. Another novelty used to maximum effect is the short color sequence depicting blood pouring from a faucet and filling a bathtub. Castle went on to direct more cult classics like Homicidal and 13 Ghosts and gained some mainstream credibility by producing Rosemary's Baby.System Requirements:Running Time: 81 Min.Format: DVD MOVIE Genre: HORROR Rating: NR UPC: 043396077799 Manufacturer No: 07779

The Island of Dr. Moreau

The Island of Doctor Moreau is a remake of 1932's Island of Lost Souls and, of course, an adaptation of H.G. Wells's classic tale of the dangers of playing God. Shipwreck victim Andrew (Michael York) washes up on a tropical island and is taken in by Dr. Moreau (Burt Lancaster), who lords over a compound staffed by some distinctly odd-looking servants. Also along for the ride are the mysteriously beautiful Maria, menacing shadows in the jungle, and lots and lots of cages in the House of Pain. While not as eerily creepy as its predecessor, The Island of Doctor Moreau has some fun makeup tricks and a good tiger fight or two, not to mention a thorough discussion of legal nuance by the island's "natives" ("What is the law?" "Not to walk on all fours!"). Definitely a fine afternoon's entertainment. Remade in 1996 with Marlon Brando. --Ali Davis

The Invisible Man

Claude Rains practically owns his film debut in The Invisible Man, despite the fact that his face (let alone his body) is seen only for seconds in the final moments. As the brilliant scientist who discovers the secret of invisibility, Rains steps into the film wrapped up like a mummy behind a layer of bandages and blanketed in heavy clothes. When he removes his garments, there's nothing underneath, a simple but effective bit of 1930s movie magic that, apart from a few glitches, works as well today as it did in 1933. Like Frankenstein, another cautionary tale of science gone horribly wrong, the consequences of the doctor's experiments are dire: the chemicals drive him insane. Director James Whale infuses the film with plenty of humor, much of it arising from the quaint quirks of the local villagers, but it turns to black comedy as the doctor transforms from an impish prankster upsetting bicycles and taunting tavern patrons to a megalomaniac bent on world domination. It's slow going even at 71 minutes, but full of delightful touches and boasts a terrific performance by the all but unseen Rains, whose rich, cultured voice envelopes the picture in a kind of omnipresent fog. Vincent Price took up the role in the sequel, The Invisible Man Returns. --Sean Axmaker

Claude Rains delivers a remarkable performance in his screen debut as a mysterious doctor who discovers a serum that makes him invisible. Covered by bandages and dark glasses, Rains arrives at a small English village and attempts to hide his amazing discover. But the same drug which rends him invisible slowly drives him to commit acts of unspeakable terror. Based on H.G. Well' classic novel and direct by the master of macabre James Whale, The Invisible Man no only fueled a host of sequels but features some special effects that are still imitated today.

Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde

It took John Barrymore to bring class to the American horror film, at least in the eyes of the industry. Dignified and virtuous as Dr. Henry Jekyll in this 1920 silent, Barrymore transforms into id incarnate as the lascivious Mr. Hyde. With almost no makeup beyond his gnarled, knobby fingers and greasy hair, Barrymore relies almost solely on a bug-eyed grimace, a spidery body language, and pure theatrical flourish. He tends to be hammy as the leering beast of a thug but brings a tortured struggle to the repressed doctor, horrified at the demon he's unleashed, guilty that he enjoys Hyde's unrestrained life of drinking and whoring, and terrified that he can no longer control the transformations. Martha Mansfield costars as his pure and innocent sweetheart, and Nita Naldi (the vamp of Blood and Sand) has a small but memorable role as the world-weary dance hall darling who first "wakens" Jekyll's "baser nature." --Sean Axmaker

The Fly (1958)/Return of the Fly (1959)

The plot device is so damned great that it simply had to be revisited: a scientist invents a device that transmits matter by disintegrating it in one chamber and reintegrating it in another. When he attempts to transmit his own body, he accidentally allows a fly into the chamber, and the resulting man-insect hybrid runs rampant across the Canadian countryside. Philippe, the son of that ill-fated scientist, is told the family history by a benevolent uncle (an oddly prim Vincent Price); possessed with the scientific will-to-know, he becomes determined to re-create his father's experiments. The legendarily silly costuming of the original Fly returns, and with it, the perplexing logic of transmogrification--it becomes difficult to decipher which of the man-insect hybrids we're meant to understand as possessing Phillipe's agency. The film is hampered by the lack of a strong female lead, and by performances by all principals that are disappointingly modern in their clear motivation and restraint. Almost normal--even by modern standards--Return of the Fly represents an interesting bridging piece between the arty, abstract, symbolist sci-fi aesthetic of the early '50s and the naturalist, highly mimetic, realist style that quickly came to dominate the genre. --Miles Bethany

The Brain That Wouldn't Die

A scientist is driving around with his gorgeous girlfriend and everything's hunky-dory until he wrecks the car and her head goes flying off. Not to be discouraged, he wraps the decapitated noggin in his jacket and scurries off to his lab, where he keeps the poor woman's head alive in a developing tray with some coils and tubes running in and out of it. With his girlfriend's still-conscious cabeza back at the lab, the good doctor drives around shopping for bodies, ogling women who might make likely candidates for reattaching the head. Finally he finds a model with a gorgeous bod (and leopard print bikini), but a scarred face. He convinces the young woman that he can fix her looks with plastic surgery and convinces her to go back to the lab. Meanwhile, his girlfriend-head (silenced by a strip of duct tape over her mouth) has developed telepathy and a nasty grudge. This movie used to regularly leave late-night TV audiences aghast and scare the bejabbers out of the young'uns. Decades later, it's an indispensable trash classic, complete with a catfight, a pinhead monster, a deformed assistant, and even a spatter of gore. Make no mistake; this incredible, sleazy gem is a must-see for any self-respecting fans of camp cinema. They just don't come any better, and they definitely don't make 'em like that anymore. --Jerry Renshaw

Dr. Bill Cortner is a surgeon like his father. He is obsessed with performing surgical transplants and continues to experiment with amputated limbs he steals from the local hospital. While driving to his secret mountain laboratory to tend to an emergency, Cortner^Rs reckless driving causes an accident and his car careens off the road, killing his fiancie. Not one to pass up the opportunity, Cortner steals her decapitated head from the burning wreckage and tries to keep it alive long enough to find a suitable body to re-attach it to. As the doctor stalks women and searches for a new body, Jan^Rs decapitated head stays alive in a tray^Etelepathically communicating with something locked away in the laboratory closet^Eplotting her revenge on the doctor for not letting her die in peace.

Bride of the Monster

For years, conventional wisdom has had it that Ed Wood Jr.'s Plan 9 from Outer Space is the ultimate "bad movie," a sort of Holy Grail of cinematic ineptitude. Often lost in the shuffle, though, is Bride of the Monster (fans of Tim Burton's biopic Ed Wood will already be familiar with it and the offscreen misadventures that went along with it). Bela Lugosi plays Dr. Vornoff, a mad scientist working on a race of superbeings in his lab. His process of clamping a metal lampshade onto the heads of his subjects and zapping them with radiation usually kills them, but the monstrous Lobo (Tor Johnson) survives and becomes Vornoff's assistant. Vornoff's plans go awry, though, when he tries to get a nosy reporter to mate with Lobo and winds up being given the atom treatment himself. Suffice it to say that there's a grappling match between Vornoff and Lobo until the evil doctor falls into a pit and wrestles a rubber octopus. Stock footage of lightning and an atomic explosion round things out for a great non sequitur of an ending. Knowing Bela Lugosi's sad state by the time that he and Ed Wood had teamed up makes it hard to watch this movie without feeling a pang of pathos for the 73-year-old actor; indeed, Bride was his last speaking role. Still, any movie with as many obvious gaffes in direction, editing, set design, narrative (heck, take your pick) as Bride is a must for any connoisseur of bad movies. And of course, the gargantuan Tor Johnson gets to utter the deathless line: "Time for... go to bed." --Jerry Renshaw

Diabolical! Fiendish! Horrorific! Legendary horror icon Bela Lugosi (Dracula) stars as Dr. Eric Vornoff, who with Lobo (Tor Johnson), a crazed man-beast servant, is conducting flesh-burning radiation experiments in an attempt to create a legion of atomic supermen. Co-written, produced and directed by cult filmmaker Ed Wood, Jr., "Bride of the Monster" includes Ed's infamous stable of players: Dolores Fuller (Glen or Glenda?, Jailbait), Tor Johnson and Paul Marco (Plan 9 From Outer Space). This was Bela Lugosi's last screen performance and one of Ed Wood's best efforts.

Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde

The Brain That Wouldn't Die/Amazing Transparent Man

A scientist is driving around with his gorgeous girlfriend and everything's hunky-dory until he wrecks the car and her head goes flying off. Not to be discouraged, he wraps the decapitated noggin in his jacket and scurries off to his lab, where he keeps the poor woman's head alive in a developing tray with some coils and tubes running in and out of it. With his girlfriend's still-conscious cabeza back at the lab, the good doctor drives around shopping for bodies, ogling women who might make likely candidates for reattaching the head. Finally he finds a model with a gorgeous bod (and leopard print bikini), but a scarred face. He convinces the young woman that he can fix her looks with plastic surgery and convinces her to go back to the lab. Meanwhile, his girlfriend-head (silenced by a strip of duct tape over her mouth) has developed telepathy and a nasty grudge. This movie used to regularly leave late-night TV audiences aghast and scare the bejabbers out of the young'uns. Decades later, it's an indispensable trash classic, complete with a catfight, a pinhead monster, a deformed assistant, and even a spatter of gore. Make no mistake; this incredible, sleazy gem is a must-see for any self-respecting fans of camp cinema. They just don't come any better, and they definitely don't make 'em like that anymore. --Jerry Renshaw

The Phantom Creeps

Motion picture serials from the '20s to the '50s were short adventure films that played before the feature attractions. Genres included horror, sci-fi, mystery, superhero, western and more that were played over 10-15 episodes in order to entice the audience back to the theatre the following week. Serials were known as "cliffhangers" because each episode would leave the viewer hanging, always "to be continued" until the final episode's resolution 10 or 15 weeks later.

One of the most memorable serials of the 1930's was The Phantom Creeps (1939). Bela Lugosi stars as Dr. Alex Zorka, a mad scientist, who conducts bizarre experiments in a secret laboratory with his assistant, Monk, an ex-convict. Dr. Zorka's inventions are sought after by the U.S. Government as well as hostile spies. The source of his inventions' power is a meteorite fragment he discovered in Africa, containing a source of limitless energy. Hokey, entertaining, and funny by today's standards, The Phantom Creeps is a classic example of the bygone era of Saturday matinees at the local movie house. All 12 episodes are presented here in their original unedited version.