Reviewed by The Keeper of the Pit
Hey, gang, the Keeper here, jest taking some slime off recowering from the memories brought back after watching this "E"-pic on the ol' Violent & Creepy Receiver. It scums to that witch passes for my mind that perhaps in recent columns herein I have given off the impression that all was swell whilst catching movies in reel theaters & Passion Pits in the daze of my youth. Well, yes & no…there was a certain advantage I had over the kids of today in that I could see, say, GORGO on a BIG screen rather than the Bijou Box at the loco mall. & it was jest fine fine & dandy that from one Saturday afternoon to the next a kid could take in maybe two Steve Reeves Hercules PITures, then the next find himself hit over his little head with a gruely STRANGE double-bill like THE MANSTER w/ THE HORROR CHAMBER OF DR. FAUSTUS. Ah, but catching this little turkey again after scum 20 years since last viewing it the second slime around on "Chiller" of Shocky Doc only serves to shake the ghouled intentions of selective mammaries. Uh, memories! Even a Keeper Kid could smell when his buttons were being pushed, & I reely stink most of us Saturday afternooners could detect the difference between ATTACK OF THE PUPPET PEOPLE and THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, & it haunt the size that counts!
Witch brings us to ATOMIC BRAIN a.k.a. MONSTROSITY. I can still see a loco theater-full of kids throwing anything handy at the screen during this one, & I thank me lucky stars & garters that I had a place to learn the joy of the "this thing sucks!" fling, later refined to a state of art with beer cans at the drive-ins of yore & gore. Now you might think a flick directed by Ray D. Steckler's camera-person would at least LOOK interesting, & you'd be wrong. &, like most turkey turds of celluloid naturd, uh, nature, this will sound better on paper than it plays so be forebrainwarned!
Consider this film a DONOVAN'S BRAIN/mad scientist plot done with a silly narration right out of PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE. Yes, yer right, there's not enuff action for the flick to carry itself, so we get cut-to-the-mausoleum lines like "The watchman's mind was not on body snatchers, just his usual nip." Boy howdy, I can see those jujubes flying! PITure opens with a pseudo-scientific hexplanation as a Dr. Otto Frank plays around with a day-old female body he's robbed so he can zap it with his cyclotron with atomic fission & then put a living animal's brain inside it. &, despite the fact that we can see lotsa shots of gals naked but with bands over their chests & thighs, this was Wayback before RE-ANIMATOR, & mostly Dr. Frank works with dogs! Ah, but some pussies will come!
Seems the ghouled Doc works for a Heddy March, an 80-year-old rich miser who wants her brain put into a younger body. She KEEPs a lover named Victor, a gigolowlife of curse, but, as the narrator sez, "Sometimes it's convenient to have a man – especially when he comes cheaper than servants!" & spooking of servants, Heddy & Victor are using want ads for servants in a bid for cheap parts. She complains these foreign girls will probably show up answering the latest ad & be uglies. Victor sez yes, but most applications for servant girls don't ask for bust, waist & hip measurements. See, I told ya those daze were more innocent. Today the questions on the form would be multiple orgasm choice!
Sure enuff, our 3 gals show up at the airport & all sit down on the same bench to learn they've all answered the same ad. We've a standard mix here: 1 Mexican, 1 English, 1 Austrian, so it looks like Doc Frank runs a regular melting G-spot. Ah, but trouble brews amongst our villains! Despite her obviously huge mansion, the sets inside are a bit, how to say, low-budget for a supposedly wealthy matron like Mrs. March. For one, Frank's cyclotron always sounds like George Pal's Martian death-rays: just like a Duster trying to start. & the old bitchy, uh, biddy has no TV, jest a radio (in 1964, mind) to hear reports on how closely the police are linking the loco-grave-robbing to her door. Seems Dr. Frank & his dog-faced monstrosity assistant (a failed hexperiment, of curse) are getting a mite undercautious, so Heddy Lambasts them. The ghouled Doctor worried as for the police, if they scum around. "I hit the switch, a nuclear reaction is set off!" he claims, & the house of ho-hum, I mean horror, becomes a hole in the ground. This may sound a bit drastic to you reading this, as it did to us Saturday afternooners, but it doesn't bother Heddy much. She listens to this and jest sez, "Be careful!" Lick the monster always sez, "Split beavers, not atoms!"
Meanwhile, Victor the gigolowlife is stinking that making love to an 80-year-old woman in the body of a 20-year-old girl is insanity. Ah, but she's an old lady butt firm! & besides, Dr. Frank';s got this girl in the basement lab with the brain of a dog, about whom Victor sez "She doesn't have a brain, there may be advantages." Hmm, sounds like Victor's scumtemplating a ganglia banglia!
Lust we furget, the Austrian gal auditions for Heddy. "Turn around…very slowly!" She complies, to witch Heddy immediately yells to Victor, "Get the doctor!" Va-room! She's got the same measurements, she sez, as Marilyn Monroe…who the monster sez Kennedied for their sins. Soon enuff the Mexican gal finds herself with a living cat's brain, witch scums in handy when Dr. Frank feels Frisky! The udder gals are catvised by Mrs. March not to run up & down stairs, it'll give their pretty legs ugly muscles. Yeah, right, & don't slide down the banister, you'll spoil Dr. Frank's supper! (Here, kitty, kitty!)
Can things get more come-ply-catted? Lech see…Mexican girl starts climbing the walls, ends up scratching out Austrian gal's eyes. The English gal is up next to learn her lab tables, & she knows it, & so do the villains know she knows. Ah, but Victor & the doc are getting double-crossed by Mrs. March, so who will reely get the brain of the cat, Mrs. March or the babe from Britain? (Witchever, the monster sez English gals in horror flicks are known for being "into" toms, uh, Thames!)
River-ting back to 1964…Thames have changed. They don't make them like this anymore, thank the stars & garters, & if they did, end product would end up right to video, witch is what jest as well. No screen any size could make this PITure any less meowserable, it stank on screen, it stank on "Chiller Theatre," and it stinks on the video shelf. Scum things stink no matter how you wrap it. & spooking of wrapping it, it's about time to wind this up. I could, of curse, ghoul on about udder 60's flicks abut brain-switching, mod scientists & pussy plundering. I could meowander about THE BRAIN THAT WOULDN'T DIE, BRAIN FROM PLANET AROUS, THE BRAIN THAT PANNED OUT…but the monster sez I oblongatta ghoul now!
& bedsides, uh, besides, the monster sez that filling up these pages with more vancancy of my cranium would only prove what he's said all along: there's no way to make me dulla!
Hey, gang, the Keeper here, jest taking some slime off recowering from the memories brought back after watching this "E"-pic on the ol' Violent & Creepy Receiver. It scums to that witch passes for my mind that perhaps in recent columns herein I have given off the impression that all was swell whilst catching movies in reel theaters & Passion Pits in the daze of my youth. Well, yes & no…there was a certain advantage I had over the kids of today in that I could see, say, GORGO on a BIG screen rather than the Bijou Box at the loco mall. & it was jest fine fine & dandy that from one Saturday afternoon to the next a kid could take in maybe two Steve Reeves Hercules PITures, then the next find himself hit over his little head with a gruely STRANGE double-bill like THE MANSTER w/ THE HORROR CHAMBER OF DR. FAUSTUS. Ah, but catching this little turkey again after scum 20 years since last viewing it the second slime around on "Chiller" of Shocky Doc only serves to shake the ghouled intentions of selective mammaries. Uh, memories! Even a Keeper Kid could smell when his buttons were being pushed, & I reely stink most of us Saturday afternooners could detect the difference between ATTACK OF THE PUPPET PEOPLE and THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, & it haunt the size that counts!
Witch brings us to ATOMIC BRAIN a.k.a. MONSTROSITY. I can still see a loco theater-full of kids throwing anything handy at the screen during this one, & I thank me lucky stars & garters that I had a place to learn the joy of the "this thing sucks!" fling, later refined to a state of art with beer cans at the drive-ins of yore & gore. Now you might think a flick directed by Ray D. Steckler's camera-person would at least LOOK interesting, & you'd be wrong. &, like most turkey turds of celluloid naturd, uh, nature, this will sound better on paper than it plays so be forebrainwarned!
Consider this film a DONOVAN'S BRAIN/mad scientist plot done with a silly narration right out of PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE. Yes, yer right, there's not enuff action for the flick to carry itself, so we get cut-to-the-mausoleum lines like "The watchman's mind was not on body snatchers, just his usual nip." Boy howdy, I can see those jujubes flying! PITure opens with a pseudo-scientific hexplanation as a Dr. Otto Frank plays around with a day-old female body he's robbed so he can zap it with his cyclotron with atomic fission & then put a living animal's brain inside it. &, despite the fact that we can see lotsa shots of gals naked but with bands over their chests & thighs, this was Wayback before RE-ANIMATOR, & mostly Dr. Frank works with dogs! Ah, but some pussies will come!
Seems the ghouled Doc works for a Heddy March, an 80-year-old rich miser who wants her brain put into a younger body. She KEEPs a lover named Victor, a gigolowlife of curse, but, as the narrator sez, "Sometimes it's convenient to have a man – especially when he comes cheaper than servants!" & spooking of servants, Heddy & Victor are using want ads for servants in a bid for cheap parts. She complains these foreign girls will probably show up answering the latest ad & be uglies. Victor sez yes, but most applications for servant girls don't ask for bust, waist & hip measurements. See, I told ya those daze were more innocent. Today the questions on the form would be multiple orgasm choice!
Sure enuff, our 3 gals show up at the airport & all sit down on the same bench to learn they've all answered the same ad. We've a standard mix here: 1 Mexican, 1 English, 1 Austrian, so it looks like Doc Frank runs a regular melting G-spot. Ah, but trouble brews amongst our villains! Despite her obviously huge mansion, the sets inside are a bit, how to say, low-budget for a supposedly wealthy matron like Mrs. March. For one, Frank's cyclotron always sounds like George Pal's Martian death-rays: just like a Duster trying to start. & the old bitchy, uh, biddy has no TV, jest a radio (in 1964, mind) to hear reports on how closely the police are linking the loco-grave-robbing to her door. Seems Dr. Frank & his dog-faced monstrosity assistant (a failed hexperiment, of curse) are getting a mite undercautious, so Heddy Lambasts them. The ghouled Doctor worried as for the police, if they scum around. "I hit the switch, a nuclear reaction is set off!" he claims, & the house of ho-hum, I mean horror, becomes a hole in the ground. This may sound a bit drastic to you reading this, as it did to us Saturday afternooners, but it doesn't bother Heddy much. She listens to this and jest sez, "Be careful!" Lick the monster always sez, "Split beavers, not atoms!"
Meanwhile, Victor the gigolowlife is stinking that making love to an 80-year-old woman in the body of a 20-year-old girl is insanity. Ah, but she's an old lady butt firm! & besides, Dr. Frank';s got this girl in the basement lab with the brain of a dog, about whom Victor sez "She doesn't have a brain, there may be advantages." Hmm, sounds like Victor's scumtemplating a ganglia banglia!
Lust we furget, the Austrian gal auditions for Heddy. "Turn around…very slowly!" She complies, to witch Heddy immediately yells to Victor, "Get the doctor!" Va-room! She's got the same measurements, she sez, as Marilyn Monroe…who the monster sez Kennedied for their sins. Soon enuff the Mexican gal finds herself with a living cat's brain, witch scums in handy when Dr. Frank feels Frisky! The udder gals are catvised by Mrs. March not to run up & down stairs, it'll give their pretty legs ugly muscles. Yeah, right, & don't slide down the banister, you'll spoil Dr. Frank's supper! (Here, kitty, kitty!)
Can things get more come-ply-catted? Lech see…Mexican girl starts climbing the walls, ends up scratching out Austrian gal's eyes. The English gal is up next to learn her lab tables, & she knows it, & so do the villains know she knows. Ah, but Victor & the doc are getting double-crossed by Mrs. March, so who will reely get the brain of the cat, Mrs. March or the babe from Britain? (Witchever, the monster sez English gals in horror flicks are known for being "into" toms, uh, Thames!)
River-ting back to 1964…Thames have changed. They don't make them like this anymore, thank the stars & garters, & if they did, end product would end up right to video, witch is what jest as well. No screen any size could make this PITure any less meowserable, it stank on screen, it stank on "Chiller Theatre," and it stinks on the video shelf. Scum things stink no matter how you wrap it. & spooking of wrapping it, it's about time to wind this up. I could, of curse, ghoul on about udder 60's flicks abut brain-switching, mod scientists & pussy plundering. I could meowander about THE BRAIN THAT WOULDN'T DIE, BRAIN FROM PLANET AROUS, THE BRAIN THAT PANNED OUT…but the monster sez I oblongatta ghoul now!
& bedsides, uh, besides, the monster sez that filling up these pages with more vancancy of my cranium would only prove what he's said all along: there's no way to make me dulla!
i've got to defend "the atomic brain." i just saw the picture recently and i enjoyed it. (granted, i'm a fanatic when it comes to fifties and sixties horror pictures.) first of all, "brain" was shot in 1958. so it's a fifties picture, not a sixties film. as such, it isn't that dated. in fact, it would make a good companion piece for "plan nine from outer space." secondly, some scenes in the film are quite whimsical and enjoyable. the idea of transplanting a woman's brain into a cat and a cat's brain into a woman is delightfully weird and is executed quite well in the film. the footage of the woman eating the mouse is priceless. finally, "brain" is a "mood piece." the idea of the film isn't to provide cheap thrills but rather to create a chilling, creepy atmosphere. and it SUCCEEDS at doing this. in this respect, "brain" is comparable to edgar ulmer's work, or even to "night of the living dead." those who would dismiss "atomic brain" outright just aren't discerning fans of low budget black and white horror and sci fi flicks.
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