Come the apocalypse, you’d want someone like Capt Ramsay (Neil Fletcher) in your corner. He’s not the kind to be surprised by the sudden onset of a nuclear holocaust. He’s prime boy scout – always prepared. Not only has he got three months of supplies put by and his own generator but he’s picked a spot where it’s more likely he’ll survive. I wish I could show his scale model that demonstrates just how far-sighted he’s been.
His house is in a valley surrounded by cliffs full of lead ore which will remain immune to radiation. Apart from a separate source of fresh water, the lake on his doorstep is heated from underground which creates an updraft to keep away radiated clouds.
Only three things nibble away at his confidence: he’s planned on safeguarding three people – himself, daughter Joanna (Charla Doherty) and her fiancé Larry – so any unforeseen arrivals could deplete supplies; rain which could be contaminated; and mutants.
Larry hasn’t survived but five others have – Steve (Paul Petersen) and his already radiated brother Granger (Max W Anderson), small-time hood Mickey (Hugh Feagin) and his exotic dancer girlfriend Jada (Quinn O’Hara), and alcoholic rancher Tim (Bill Thurman). Plus whatever else is on the prowl out there. Granger doesn’t appear an immediate threat though he’s received levels of radiation that should have killed him. On the plus side, he can go weeks without eating or drinking. On the minus side, he’s got a hankering for fresh raw meat, but luckily not badly enough to resort to cannibalism.
Now that the absent Larry has upset his plans for the continuation of the human race, Capt Ramsay decides his daughter should pair up with geologist Steve. She’s certainly drawn to him but keeps on hearing a strange voice which she imagines to be Larry. But Mickey determines that if there’s any procreation to be done, it’ll be with him and Joanna and even though, theoretically, she’s out of his league, he works out that if he bumps everyone else off she won’t have a choice.
Meanwhile, something’s prowling out there in the dark. Luckily, it’s always dark when the creature goes prowling so we make do with barely a glimpse of whatever the director can come up with monster-wise on a tiny budget. We get a better idea of the possible mutant outcomes because the good captain was in charge of a ship carrying animals out of an H-Bomb test site and took the opportunity to make illustrations of what he saw, which was mostly emaciated bodies with sharp teeth and claws.
Mostly, we’re waiting for rain or for Mickey to begin slaughtering everyone. It’s just as well that mutants keep their distance because then tension can play out via sexual jealousy, the stern captain brooking no dissent – he also knocks on the head lewd dancing and the drinking of illicit liquor – and the gradual accumulation of the fearful.
Had it gone down the more straightforward slasher route, Joanna would be the ideal final girl with Jada more likely to be an early victim courtesy of her profession. In fact, both make perfect foils. Joanna stands up to her father who’s inclined to prevent, by force if necessary, any visitors from entering the house while Jada tries to make her boyfriend stick to a lovers’ code of honor.
Scottish actress Quinn O’Hara (A Swingin’ Summer, 1965) should have stolen the picture given her juicy role but it’s Hugh Feagin (in his debut), all razor cheekbones and slits for eyes, and Charla Doherty (Take Her She’s Mine, 1963) who snatch what little kudos there is going.
Larry Buchanan (The Naked Witch, 1961) directs this remake of the 1955 movie from a screenplay by Harold Hoffman (The Black Cat, 1966) and Lou Rusoff (Panic in the Year Zero, 1962).
While there’s not a huge amount to recommend it, it is interesting enough given the director has to concentrate more on character than gore.
The Magnificent 60s 
The Larry Buchanan sci-fi remake films are terrible, making the Roger Corman / AIP originals look like Academy Award fodder. That said, the circumstances behind them explain a lot. In the early days of color television broadcasting, the American Broadcasting Company (ABC) figured out that a) there was a certain locked-in audience for monster movies, with quality of same not mattering much, and b) a similar hunger for color films. ABC thus wanted cheapie monster flicks to play on weekend afternoons and in late night slots.
Since most cheapie monster movies of the time were still being shot in black and white, the network commissioned Texas filmmaker Larry Buchanan to whip out a half dozen such films as quickly and cheaply as possible. Buchanan was allotted an insanely meager $25,000 a picture, including color film and whatever profit he could glean from that amount. Even Corman a decade earlier had somewhat higher budgets than that. I’ve seen the budget of Zontar Thing from Venus reported as being $22,000, indicating that Buchanan was pocketing a not exactly robust $3,000 a picture.
So those were Buchanan’s gun for hire movies and he clearly wasn’t much invested in them. He paranoid political thrillers are a lot more interesting, if equally inept. 1984’s Down on Us, for instance, posited that the US government assassinated Jimi Hendrix, Janice Joplin and Jim Morrison lest the power of rock ‘n roll caused the youth of the ‘60s to rise up and overthrow the System.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wasn’t aware of this, Ken. Thanks for filling me in.
LikeLike