- Original theatrical poster - image courtesy of Moviegoods.com
Sometimes, when it comes to entertainment, art, or wherever the two intersect, one needn’t like something for what is typically perceived as “good” indicators of quality, but in fact the opposite. This is frequently true with movies—as evidenced by the continuous success of Mystery Science Theater 3000—and is perhaps most common therein to the science fiction and horror genres (ditto), where the source of the phrase “good bad movie” seems to have originated. The presence of failed intentions can better highlight those that succeeded, and sometimes a movie that bites off more than it can possibly chew is savory in ambition alone. Others entertain for simply being epic train wrecks.
Like most Ed Wood productions, Bride of the Monster falls somewhere in between a Frankenstein of cinematic junk parts and an affecting work of misshapen art—a terrible work by most formal standards, true, yet oddly charming in its ultra-low budget production values and often inconceivably strange creative choices. It helps to have a background in similarly amateur, bottom-of-the-barrel B-movies. Within that category, there are those that suffer from wanting resources, and then there are those that were churned out without much concern for the results so long as something made it onto the film. This film falls decidedly into the former category.
Of the director’s numerous collaborations with the late Bela Lugosi, this is the one that most allows the former Dracula to put his acting chops to work; the overwrought nature of his performance is among the more delightful elements Bride of the Monster has to offer. Originally titled “Bride of the Atom,” the story concerns an outcast scientist, Dr. Eric Vornoff (Lugosi), who seeks to develop a superhuman race through his experiments with nuclear power.
The doctor already has a mute, super-strong assistant named Lobo (one of Wood's better puns), played by the wrestler Tor Johnson, to do his bidding, and a giant octopus used to dispatch unwanted locals who come snooping around his remote laboratory. An inquisitive newspaperwoman (Loretta King Hadler) finds herself a captive of the doctor, with the police in rapid pursuit following her absence. As Dr. Vornoff draws closer to success, the power goes to his head, ultimately leading to his demise.
Minimal production resources and a reliance on stock footage be damned, the film has a palpable atmosphere and a coherent sense of drama. Wood’s typically overwritten dialogue is quite the match to Lugosi’s ornate manner of performance, which earns a not unremarkable level of pity as details of his character emerge later in the picture. It's arguably the best performance in any of Wood's films, which isn't intended as the backhanded praise it surely sounds like.
Had Wood been lucky enough to receive a formal filmmaking education and ten times the budget per picture, there’s no telling what he might have accomplished. Such as it is, Bride, like Plan 9 from Outer Space and the sequel Night of the Ghouls, is another testament to the dedication of cinema’s most beloved non-talent. Taken at face value, the many flawed details of the film are embarrassing—one needn’t strain themselves to notice that the monstrous octopus is an inanimate prop, the actors visible moving the tentacles while flailing about during any number of drawn-out death scenes—but the film entire suggests a cry from the heart of a crippled poet.
Bride of the Monster is available in its entirety on YouTube ( click here).
Bride of the Monster. Dir. Edward D. Wood, Jr. Perf. Tony McCoy, Bela Lugosi, Loretta King Hadler, Tor Johnson. Banner Pictures, 1955. Running Time: 68 min.
