Cinematic Hell: The Creeping Terror (1964)

by Hal Astell

Director: A J Nelson

Stars: Vic Savage and Shannon O'Neil

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Of all the many atrocities low budget cinema has thrust upon us thus far, the closest anyone has ever really got to Manos: The Hands of Fate is this one, whose title describes the film far better than its monster. Like Manos, this is mostly the product of one man who promptly left the movie business, though he had previously made Street-Fighter in 1959. The difference is that this time out there's a back story that's not just interesting, it's far more interesting than the actual movie itself. That one man is Arthur N White, a small scale conman from Connecticut who came up with a new name and a new gimmick every time the wind changed, making this film under two pseudonyms. As A J Nelson, he produced it, edited it and directed it. As Vic Savage, he played the lead role of Martin Gordon. His real role was as conman though, because the movie itself was the gimmick and during a break in filming he simply packed up and left town with the money.

Cinematic Hell: White Pongo (1945)

by Hal Astell

Director: Sam Newfield

Stars: Richard Fraser and Maris Wrixon

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Even though we're about to visit West Africa, the opening music by an uncredited Leo Erdody feels rather Arabian. By the time we get through the introduction that tells about 'vast areas of dense forests and swampland as yet unseen by white men' and 'virgin territory penetrated only by the Congo river', we half expect to see a giant cobra being summoned out of a basket, but no, it's just a bunch of half naked savages leaping around a tiny campfire. What makes it special isn't the natives, or even the fact that the most recognisable name in this debacle, Guy Kibbee's brother Milton, is strung up by his wrists presumably waiting to be sacrificed. It's that there's some lunatic leaping around in a white gorilla suit pretending to be the missing link. He's actually Ray Corrigan, who worked inside most of the ape suits Hollywood put into movies, at least when he wasn't playing Tucson Smith or Crash Corrigan in western series.

Cinematic Hell: Maniac (1934)

by Hal Astell

Director: Dwain Esper

Star: Bill Woods

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There are exploitation films that surprise because of what they are or what they contain, and then there are exploitation films that continue to surprise so much that the most surprising thing of all is that they're not far more famous than they are. This little picture from Dwain Esper pulls out all the stops, with almost everything you could possibly imagine from exploitation cinema except garish colour, all stuffed into a mere 51 minute running time. What's more it was released in 1934, which seems unbelievable given some of the things that go on, though others are admittedly staples of thirties horror. Sourced primarily from Poe, it was ahead of Roger Corman by a quarter of a century. The eyeball eating scene feels like it should be in a Fulci movie half a century later. The personal take on zombies is a very modern one that writers are only now starting to get back to, three quarters of a century later. Talk about ahead of its time. Every 25 years someone catches up to something else in this film.

Cinematic Hell: The Wild Women of Wongo (1958)

by Hal Astell

Director: James L Wolcott

Stars: Jean Hawkshaw and Johnny Walsh

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I'm sure you're not going to be surprised to find that something called The Wild Women of Wongo isn't some existential Ingmar Bergman picture, though it does start with an arty introduction from Mother Nature herself. Unfortunately it isn't an early Girls Gone Wild video either, done 1958 style with Bettie Page and a host of tiki room beauties, but it's a lot closer to that than Bergman because this one does at least have a girl in a leopard skin outfit wrestling an alligator. She's Jean Hawkshaw, and like almost everyone else involved in this picture, this was the only thing she did. Cedric Rutherford didn't write anything else. James Wolcott didn't direct anything else, except to patch together some old Laurel and Hardy shorts into a compilation in 1967. The other star, Johnny Walsh, did make 29 movies but he was only credited in three of them, and trust me, we're not looking at Johnny Walsh in this picture.