"Home? I have no home. Hunted. Despised! Living like an animal!"
One of screen icon Bela Lugosis' final completed roles is as the mad scientist Dr. Eric Vornoff, in this, one of the notorious efforts for schlock creator Edward D. Wood, Jr. Vornoff lives in an estate by a swamp where he conducts experiments in turning ordinary humans into atomic "super beings". He also utilizes the services of a henchman (Tor Johnson, amusing as always) and keeps a pet octopus on the premises. Headstrong journalist Janet Lawton (Loretta King) sniffs out a story and wanders into Vornoffs' domain.
"Bride of the Monster" may have been done on the ultra-cheap, but that does not mean it necessarily reeks of incompetence. Wood does manage to crank out an entertaining (if patently ridiculous) story and make a watchable film that runs a trim 69 minutes. He also gives Lugosi his last great hurrah by providing him with a role (and monologue) that the actor obviously relished. Truthfully, the film wouldn't be quite as memorable if Bela weren't playing Vornoff for everything that the part was worth.
Budgetary restrictions are most hilariously apparent when it comes to the octopus. Wood alternates between stock footage of octopi and an absurd rubber prop that requires the actors playing the victims to do a fair amount of the work in death scenes. But the film does have good atmosphere, and a moderately effective lab set.
The supporting cast has its moments. King is appealingly feisty, and Tony McCoy is passable as her hunky fiancee / hero, a detective lieutenant. (McCoys' father, a rancher (who retains an executive producer credit), financed "Bride" on the condition that his son get one of the principal roles.) Harvey B. Dunn is fun as McCoys' superior, a police captain whose pet bird is often perched on his shoulder. Former Wood companion Dolores Fuller has a regrettably minor role as a colleague of Janets'. And Woods' repertory player Paul Marco is typically a hoot as a dimwitted cop.
Decent cinematography (credited to two men, Ted Allan and William C. Thompson), and music (by Frank Worth) further assist in making "Bride" a B picture to cherish.
Eight out of 10.
One of screen icon Bela Lugosis' final completed roles is as the mad scientist Dr. Eric Vornoff, in this, one of the notorious efforts for schlock creator Edward D. Wood, Jr. Vornoff lives in an estate by a swamp where he conducts experiments in turning ordinary humans into atomic "super beings". He also utilizes the services of a henchman (Tor Johnson, amusing as always) and keeps a pet octopus on the premises. Headstrong journalist Janet Lawton (Loretta King) sniffs out a story and wanders into Vornoffs' domain.
"Bride of the Monster" may have been done on the ultra-cheap, but that does not mean it necessarily reeks of incompetence. Wood does manage to crank out an entertaining (if patently ridiculous) story and make a watchable film that runs a trim 69 minutes. He also gives Lugosi his last great hurrah by providing him with a role (and monologue) that the actor obviously relished. Truthfully, the film wouldn't be quite as memorable if Bela weren't playing Vornoff for everything that the part was worth.
Budgetary restrictions are most hilariously apparent when it comes to the octopus. Wood alternates between stock footage of octopi and an absurd rubber prop that requires the actors playing the victims to do a fair amount of the work in death scenes. But the film does have good atmosphere, and a moderately effective lab set.
The supporting cast has its moments. King is appealingly feisty, and Tony McCoy is passable as her hunky fiancee / hero, a detective lieutenant. (McCoys' father, a rancher (who retains an executive producer credit), financed "Bride" on the condition that his son get one of the principal roles.) Harvey B. Dunn is fun as McCoys' superior, a police captain whose pet bird is often perched on his shoulder. Former Wood companion Dolores Fuller has a regrettably minor role as a colleague of Janets'. And Woods' repertory player Paul Marco is typically a hoot as a dimwitted cop.
Decent cinematography (credited to two men, Ted Allan and William C. Thompson), and music (by Frank Worth) further assist in making "Bride" a B picture to cherish.
Eight out of 10.