• Directed by Edward D. Wood Jr.
• Written by Edward D. Wood Jr and Alex Gordon
• Starring
  • Bela Lugosi
  • Tor Johnson
  • Tony McCoy
  • Loretta King
  • Harvey B. Dunn

Ed Wood’s modern-day reputation is almost entirely centered on his 1959 “opus,” Plan 9 From Outer Space. Said movie was the proverbial “perfect storm” of sincerity, giddiness, and inanity, and it’s no surprise that neither Wood nor anyone else ever achieved such an inadvertant comedic masterpiece.

But what manifested itself so fully in Plan 9 is still evident in Wood’s other films, to wit: An absolute tin ear for dialogue; a will to push tiny budgets to the breaking point; a devotion to comic-book story elements which were already hoary cliches when the drive-in era was still on the upswing; and above all, a wholehearted sincerity in the entertainment value of what’s being paraded in front of the audience. Bride of the Monster may not reach the sublime heights or depths of Plan 9, but it’s still a damned entertaining flick despite its failure on almost every level. Or more likely, because of it.

You know you’re in an Ed Wood film from almost the first frame, as a thunderstorm barrages an eerie old manor house under the opening credits. The “rain” we see is obviously being sprayed from two different angles off-camera. You know, there are a lot of mediocre directors out there, but it takes a special genius to screw up rain.

“They mock me, but someday my ‘widescreen television’ will revolutionize the world!”

Anyway. Two hunters, boring each other with exposition for our benefit, find themselves caught in the latest of a series of thunderstorms that have occurred nightly, like clockwork, for the past several months. (So why did they think that tonight would be any different? Because they’re stupid.) Looking for shelter, they head for the long-abandoned Willow place, only to catch sight of a mysterious light in the window. Their knock reveals Bela Lugosi at the door, and his mere appearance almost makes them run off into the night; and if that weren’t enough, they also encounter Lobo (Tor Johnson), the mute manservant who spends his time stumbling around in the stormy night. I’d make a comment about being too stupid to come in out of the rain, but what does that say about our two hunters? Anyway, they run off in the direction of Marsh Lake; unfortunately, a “giant” “octopus” emerges from its lair under the Willow house and grabs one of the hunters. Said “giant” “octopus” is realized by ill-edited footage of a very non-giant octopus in an aquarium, and a remarkably immobile prop octopus, so stiff the actors have trouble wrapping its tentacles around themselves to simulate its attack. Compared to the octopus, Tor Johnson looks positively animate when Lobo shows up and clubs the other hunter into submission.

You see, Lugosi is Dr. Vornoff, a mad scientist complete with lab coat and buzzing electrical equipment around his lab, and as he tells the surviving hunter strapped down to his examination table, Vornoff’s experiments involve using atomic energy to create a breed of supermen. So far, his ten previous experiments have been failures — or rather, they have succeeded in showing him ten methods which do not produce a superman, or even a still-living experimental subject. But where would Edison have been if he’d given up on the light bulb after the first few dozen attempts? In the dark, that’s where! And to be fair, Dr. Vornoff does indeed exhibit sorrow when his atomic ray ends up fatally microwaving another subject’s brain.

“TOR LOVE YOU!”

The local headlines quickly proclaim, “Monster Strikes Again!” Meanwhile, the local police are stymied. To date, twelve men have either gone missing or turned up dead, despite the fact that Homicide Captain Robbins (Harvey B. Dunn) has “conducted every possible search.” (Except one involving the old Willow place, which is the only structure anywhere near Marsh Lake.) It’s especially galling that reporter Janet (Loretta King), fiancee of his own detective Lt. Dick Craig (Tony McCoy) is the one writing all of the “monster” stories. (Here’s a bonus for an Ed Wood film: A quiet moment of introspection. Captain Robbins sends an underling to fetch Lt. Craig, and then we watch him wait in realtime, as he glances at the paper, plays with his glasses, sighs, and feeds his parakeet.)

Who finally comes up with the idea of an on-sight investigation? A foreigner. Captain Robbins and Lt. Craig meet with one Professor Strowski (George Becwar), an international “lake monster” expert who’s followed press reports here and thinks his expertise might be of use. The captain is instantly taken with the idea — an onsight investigation! what a concept! — and assigns Craig to accompany the professor the next day.

Janet, however, doesn’t operate on the buddy system; she learns from the newspaper morgue that one Dr. Eric Vornoff now owns the Willow place, and heads out to Marsh Lake that very night. In quick order, she manages to wreck her car, and almost gets attacked by a snake from another movie entirely, but before the stock footage can do her any harm, Lobo (who was apparently twelve feet away when the wreck happened) whacks a prop snake and carries the unconscious reporter off. Even in Tor Johnson’s nigh-immobile features, it’s plain to see what the appearance of the nubile young woman has done to him: Lobo’s in love! It’s a tender infatuation of mute man-beast for helpless female, the like of which we would not see again until The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 in 1986.

“Don’t even think about it, Doc.”

If there is an emotional heart to the movie, it comes in the morning when Professor Strowski goes exploring without his police escort and arrives on Vornoff’s door. There we find out Vornoff’s backstory; because of his ideas of atomic supermen, he was exiled from his home country; Strowsky, a fellow countryman, has been seeking him all these years, following reports of monsters all over the globe in an effort to convince him that he can come home, all is forgiven. (Does Vornoff make it a point to cultivate a giant aquatic monster wherever he settles? Because hamsters really travel better.) But Vornoff, though disconsolate over his long banishment, is too consumed by rage to ever accept an olive branch. Just to prove his point, he forces Strowski to pretend that the stiff octopus prop is grappling with him. That’ll show ‘em all!

Lt. Craig eventually manages to mosey on out toward the Willow place, and proves completely unable to save himself, much less rescue Janet. Indeed, Janet’s minutes would be numbered if it weren’t for Lobo’s little heart going pitter-pat; when Vornoff attempts to use her as an experimental subject, Lobo finally rebels against his master and instead straps Vornoff into his own equipment. (And just watch Janet’s face as she’s “rescued” from a fate worse than death, possibly to be subjected to an entirely different fate worse than death.) Would’t you just know that this is the time when the atomic ray works? Which means that Lobo expires at the hands of a very tall stunt double for the supermannified Vornoff. Then the rest of the police force shows up and chases Vornoff into the night, where, with poetic justice, he expires as he tries his hardest to look like the giant octopus really is attacking him.

“Damn! I forgot my White Zombie eyebrows!”

By any objective standard, this is a much better movie than Plan 9 From Outer Space. The plot, while threadbare and perfunctory, still makes more sense than that of the later movie; it doesn’t even need the dubious assistance of a narrator to string it together. Of course, it always helps when you’re not trying to construct a feature film around limited footage of a dead actor. But there are enough brilliant Ed Woodisms here to satisfy any aficionado. Stock footage of snakes, alligators, and atom bomb tests all spruce up the action; every character is stupid in exactly the manner required for the plot to work; and the pretense of a deeper moral is provided by Captain Robbins in the closing line of dialogue: “He tampered in God’s domain.” Even in the more technical aspects, the hand of The Ed is never well hidden; for instance, the camera is always in exactly the same position for everyone who approaches the door of the Willow place, making it seem almost like the setup for a running gag.

Tor Johnson, Kung-Fu Master!

This much can be said for Ed Wood: He must have been a man who bored easily, and compensated by throwing every trick he knew at the screen to maintain excitement. Not that “excitement” is what results, exactly, but whatever you want to call it, and whatever Wood intended, it’s definitely entertaining.

Some Notable Totables:

• body count: 4
• breasts: 0
• explosions: 3
• ominous thunderstorms: 4
• actors who’ve appeared on Star Trek: 0