The Creeping Terror

I figured that this movie got a lot of its "10" ratings from the MST3K version, but this is without question, the WORST movie I have ever seen. The voice-over play-by-play while a conversation is going on is hilarious!! The advice on married life (Officer "Third Wheel"), the cowardly boyfriend, and the lack of footspeed or common sense that the victims implore are memorable moments. And of course, the monster itself....an overgrown carpet sample!! Wow. My favorite scene: the bad edit of the couple's momentum after they slam on the brakes. Absolutely atrocious.

You think "Plan Nine" was bad? At least Ed Wood had sync sound, and shot the film with the right exposure. This wacky little gem from 1964 is my vote for the worst film ever. A monster (made up of a moldy carpet flung over crawling kids, who are plainly visible) attacks locals in Nevada. Director Art J. Nelson (Who resembles a spaced out Tarantino, and plays the film's hero.) reportingly lost the dialog track to the film, but replaced missing talk with a narrator for driver safety films. Highlights include the carpet guy attacking a high school dance (Monster makes sure he doesn't wreck tables and chairs) the army is called out in one scene (This "army" consists of five guys in helmets being transported in a pick-up truck!) 80 minutes of mindless fun. It's like watching local third graders doing a production of "Bridge On River Kwai"

With its awesome ineptitude, 1963's "The Creeping Terror" can lay claim to be among the most beloved bad movies of all time, though producer/director A. J. Nelson (actually star Vic Savage) deserves no credit due to his swift abandonment of the project once funds ran out. The opening credits feature a swirling background shot taken from Steve McQueen's "The Blob," followed by a downed spacecraft yielding two carpet monsters, one escaping to terrorize Simi Valley, the military keeping tabs on its still caged mate (only an exterior is shown, actors crawling under a mockup to view a dimly lit yet fairly ordinary facsimile of screens, dials and buttons). The human interest story with Savage and real life spouse Shannon O'Neil pales compared to the hilarity that ensues with each creature attack, the camera representing the monster's POV as the victims stand their ground and watch its approach. First up are two lovers, the louse of a boyfriend hightailing it to leave his bikini babe as breakfast, continuously screaming as she enters the bobbing and weaving maw of the beast; a housewife bids her husband farewell in the morning before hanging up the wash, gobbled up off screen while her baby cries; a grandson vanishes as chubby granddad babbles in a brook; a group of 12 on a sunny picnic are quick to get swallowed whole, their fearless leader fighting off the invader with his acoustic guitar, which would never sit well with John Lennon; the big dance hall sequence lasting 11 minutes, the creature entering the building after seven endless minutes of juking and jiving (one guy could be mistaken for Jerry Lewis on quaaludes); Lover's Lane sees its occupants worrying less about contraception than survival (this lasts six minutes, only a solitary car driving off); finally, army sharpshooters get too close to their target, going down like dominos with one soldier's feet up in the air waiting for the director to yell 'Cut!' The original monster costume was not stolen (confiscated for lack of payment by the man who built it), nor was the soundtrack lost as it was intended to be post dubbed after shooting wrapped, the damn thing unspooling like a silent movie with its constant organ motifs. The obscene looking carpet creature is kept mostly off camera for the first half, making an already difficult sit a real chore, but once unleashed it's impossible not to laugh, not so much at the beast but its comatose victims, who display little affinity for staying alive by hightailing it out of there. The first female victim is clad in a fetching bikini, the camera ogling her cute little caboose and long slim legs in almost slow motion (this was even before the Beach Party series kicked off), a pattern that would be repeated at the dance hall, from shimmy and shake to quiver and quake, with one unfortunate miss losing her top after being pushed aside by a rough customer. Lover's Lane finds the make out crowd too occupied doing imitations of Siamese twins joined at the mouth to notice a huge invader doing its bit by humping cars! Since director/producer A. J. Nelson alias Vic Savage vanished before filming was completed (May-June 1963), the final product was assembled by actor William Thourlby, playing a major role as Dr. Bradford, who put some of his own money into the production and was determined to earn back his investment (curiously, Nelson retains his editor credit). It's not likely that any theatrical distribution took place before its belated debut in late 1975 (mere months after the demise of its disgraced director at age 41), as part of Gold Key's 20 film Scream Theater television package, among the 16 Crown International cheapies to earn some notoriety for their relative obscurity.

...and that certainly isn't saying much. Interplanetary monster devours people who are too stupid to run away. Like BEACH GIRLS AND THE MONSTER, and unlike PLAN NINE FROM OUTER SPACE, it's too annoying to be entertaining. To add to the sheer stupidity, half of it is narrated, just because some lunkhead lost the sound equipment. Not a total loss, however. The most entertaining aspect of this movie are the negative reviews trashing this movie on IMDb.

Now that's entertainment!

Rating: A redundant 0 out of *****

Where else but in the good ole U.S.A. could a group of people make a movie like THE CREEPING TERROR, get it shown in theatres and on TV (repeatedly), and people admit to liking it publicly? I've loved this flick since the first time I saw it back in the 70's on late night TV and still hold it in high regard as one of the worst movies I will ever love. The carpet and vacuum hose monster that moves at a mall walkers pace seems to have no problem getting victims to into it's mouth, not just to be eaten but to be analyzed and biological info sent back to it's home planet?!? A.J. Nelson must have been dropped one too many times as a baby to make something this bad... and hilarious!