The more attentive (not to say anal retentive) out there will notice that I've reviewed this movie before. But in the five years or so since I last reviewed this, I've had the chance to see this movie again several times (but not in its non-MST3K format; I can't seem to find that anywhere).
I don't really think any more highly of this movie now than I did then. But there are aspects of it that fascinate me almost beyond my power to describe it. First, having been born in 1964, I'm generally fascinated by movies from that era just because they depict, in whatever small way, the world into which I was being born. Whether that movie is "Fail-Safe" or "Eegah!" doesn't seem to matter; I am gripped by the thought of it.
Another thing about this movie that grabs my attention is the hair. Bouffants galore! The period of about 1962-1965 seems to have been the Golden Age of the Marge Simpson 'Do. Some of these hairstyles actually seem to defy the laws of physics. And not just the women's hairstyles, either - the sky-high pompadour of the indescribable and incomparable Atlas King (who played Harold, the indeterminately foreign sidekick)has to be seen to be believed, just as his accent has to be heard to be believed, if not understood.
Then there's the music. There's certainly a lot of bad music out there, but most of it is insipid and unoriginal. The music in this movie is terrible, but it's terrible in a way that is unlike anything else I've ever heard; particularly inimitable is the somnambulistic cowboy folk song gurgling along in the background as our hero broods his way along a funicula (that's one of those elevated trains that carries people from the foot of a cliff to the top of the cliff, as in Quebec City). Most amazing about that song is the fact that it seems to be everywhere, as if a powerful PA system is playing it about half a mile away, but it turns out to be playing on a tinny-looking AM radio (must have been a prototype Bose stereo).
There's so much more - the really awful choreography, the oily faces shown an very, very tight close up, the fact that the movie is rather well photographed, but the sound is about as awful as any I've ever heard in a movie (maybe it was all recorded playing out of a tinny AM radio).
In short, this is a really, really terrible movie, but I love it anyway. All it needs is some real strippers for its girlie show....
I don't really think any more highly of this movie now than I did then. But there are aspects of it that fascinate me almost beyond my power to describe it. First, having been born in 1964, I'm generally fascinated by movies from that era just because they depict, in whatever small way, the world into which I was being born. Whether that movie is "Fail-Safe" or "Eegah!" doesn't seem to matter; I am gripped by the thought of it.
Another thing about this movie that grabs my attention is the hair. Bouffants galore! The period of about 1962-1965 seems to have been the Golden Age of the Marge Simpson 'Do. Some of these hairstyles actually seem to defy the laws of physics. And not just the women's hairstyles, either - the sky-high pompadour of the indescribable and incomparable Atlas King (who played Harold, the indeterminately foreign sidekick)has to be seen to be believed, just as his accent has to be heard to be believed, if not understood.
Then there's the music. There's certainly a lot of bad music out there, but most of it is insipid and unoriginal. The music in this movie is terrible, but it's terrible in a way that is unlike anything else I've ever heard; particularly inimitable is the somnambulistic cowboy folk song gurgling along in the background as our hero broods his way along a funicula (that's one of those elevated trains that carries people from the foot of a cliff to the top of the cliff, as in Quebec City). Most amazing about that song is the fact that it seems to be everywhere, as if a powerful PA system is playing it about half a mile away, but it turns out to be playing on a tinny-looking AM radio (must have been a prototype Bose stereo).
There's so much more - the really awful choreography, the oily faces shown an very, very tight close up, the fact that the movie is rather well photographed, but the sound is about as awful as any I've ever heard in a movie (maybe it was all recorded playing out of a tinny AM radio).
In short, this is a really, really terrible movie, but I love it anyway. All it needs is some real strippers for its girlie show....