The Best Of The Worst?

Something in the nature of horror film genre lends itself towards parody. By design, horror films tend towards being serious, but when the budget or talent involved cannot match the seriousness of a film-makers artistic vision, disaster is almost certain to ensue.

For many fans of "B-Moves" and other assorted schlock, the pinnacle of the Good-Bad ("it's so bad it's good") Cinema was set by Ed Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space. This film starred Bela Lugosi in his final roll, clearly nearing the end of his life and horribly addicted to pain killers, as well as horror stalwart and former professional wrestler Tor Johnson. The movie existed on a tiny budget, and Ed Wood's wild creativity could never compensate for his general lack of talent as a director. But for the virtually endless list of flaws that the movie suffers, Plan 9 is not without a certain well-meaning though weird charm. This does not excuse it as an artistic exercise; it is hardly a "cinematic achievement" by any stretch of the phrase, it did however dominate the position of "The Worst Movie Ever Made" in the minds and hearts of movie fans for decades.

But little did any of these devoted cinemaphiles know that something far worse was waiting to reach it's icy grip from the past and strangle Plan 9 into submission. No one would could have prepared for what was re-released like a Lovecraftian nightmare onto the world on January 30th, 1993.

The much-beloved television show Mystery Science Theater 3000 is known for it's unique format: take B-grade (or below) horror, science fiction, and drama films from the 1950's up to the 1980's and verbally skewer them for a television audience. On the aforementioned January date, the show aired an episode featuring the 1966 independent film Manos: The Hands of Fate. (And for those who have multi-lingual inclinations, the title of the film would translate to Hands: The Hands of Fate.) This episode would re-introduce an unsuspecting world to a film so profoundly bad that it would seemingly confound and unnerve even the cast of MST3K and would later go on to be described by the episode guide released by the show as the worst film that they covered yet one of the most popular episodes in the series' canon.

While the very notion of a television show devoted to bad movies being bothered by this movie paints a very vivid image, Manos must be seen to be believed. It is a movie so profoundly awful that it borders on surreal. The history of this strange piece was is one story that is doomed from it's very inception. In the case of most bad bits of cinema, there are generally only a few factors that can be blamed for a movie's demise. In this case it is a veritable cocktail of ruin: No budget, wooden acting, non-existent directorial skill, bad recording equipment, under-developed plot, pointless dialog, irrational editing choices, and a veritable Infernal Host of other factors that makes Manos devoid of any redeeming feature. Arguably it's worst feature, however, lies in it's writer/producer/director/lead male actor Hal P. Warren. His plot, that of a small family being terrorized by a coven of Luciferian polygamists and the groups Satyr Man-Servant, would have been an unremarkable but solid horror movie concept. Warren's sheer ineptitude in all of his listed capacities on the project combined with the other factors mentioned were a death-blow to the movie before it was even born.

None of it's cast would go on to any degree of notoriety. One member, who had been rumored to be plagued with personal problems prior to filming, committed suicide shortly after the film's release (though it has been joked that the movie is so awful that it could have a body count.) Hal Warren, in a nearly prophetic statement, would say that the after the film's quick and unceremonious death if the film's dialog could be re-dubbed, "it could be a comedy."

But like any manifestation of the Forces of Darkness, Manos: The Hands of Fate refused to die so easily. The power of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and it's devoted fan-base has given new life to the movie. In 2004, a trio of Canadian Film-makers released a documentary called Hotel Torgo after tracking down and interviewing Bernie Rosenblum, the stunt coordinator, electrical, and bit-part actor who is one of the last members of the cast and crew still alive to tell the tale of Manos.

So what did Hal P. Warren, suitably a fertilizer salesman from El Paso, Texas unleash upon us? Some people seem to view his film as a cinematic Crime Against Humanity. Others, perhaps with more of a pragmatic streak or sense of humor, view it as harmless and campy fun, or a cinematic cautionary tale. But this much is true: Manos: The Hands Of Fate lives. In 2011, filming of a sequel entitled Manos: The Search For Valley Lodge, begins filming in El Paso with a tentative release date of 2013.

Death & Rebirth

Experimental and Avant-Garde films are not entertainment as most people would normally see it. In many cases, the standards of narrative, cinematography, and sound are abandoned for testing the metaphorical (and sometimes literal) boundaries of both cinematic and audience tolerance.

Few films so viciously assault celluloid and audiences as E. Elias Merhige’s Begotten. If movies can be described as a ribbon of dreams, Merhige’s experimental masterpiece is a ribbon of fevered nightmares, a bleak reinterpretation of archetypical Creation myths. Allegedly written regarding the directors near-death experience at the age of 19, it’s easy to see how Merhige would later go on to direct such macabre films as Shadow of the Vampiree (a dark comedy/horror centering on F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu.)


Begotten uses a twisted allegory to represent the elements common to Genesis stories found across multiple cultures. Many stories feature a masculine Demiurge coupling with a Mother Goddess, giving birth to a self-sacrificing Messiah. Anyone with a passing familiarity with Theology or the Cosmology of Hinduism or Ancient Egypt might be able to see some of these in Begotten. They may be shocked, however, to see a Messiah naked and twitching in primal suffering or to see a God in a seemingly mindless act of self-mutilation. Where Merhige excels in this film, however, is not in gore or “shock factor,” but rather his vision of the cinematic process, from technique down to the base medium being used.

Filmed entirely on Black and White Reversal stock, Merhige went through the painstaking process of rephotographing each frame. The end result is a true monochrome; black and white with absolutely no grey middle tones. The effect is entrancing and unsettling, shifting between blindingly bright and complete obfuscation, the visuals can be deeply confusing as to what is actually being viewed. Sonically, Begotten is devoid of spoken word and a traditional score or soundtrack. In place of dialog is crickets, white noise, snippets of classical instrumentation, and an unwholesome wet gurgling noise. The combination of visuals, subject matter, and atonal sound creates a mix that is as enticing as it is repulsive.

Begotten was released in 1990. Given the graphic and bizarre presentation, it was unable to secure a wide distribution, though eventually it found it’s way via independent movie companies who secured copies. With the advent of Internet, Begotten has found a greater audience, and has been considered to be a high-water mark for Experimental cinema as well as heralding the oncoming violence that has bled back into Horror movies.

Begotten is a truly unique work, and as such, is not for all audiences. For those interested, I have provided a link to the film in it’s entirety. However, keep in mind that it is not safe for work, extremely graphic, and not “light cinematic fair.” As always, apply discrimination before clicking the link below.



Click here to watch.