Der Manitou

Based on the novel by Graham Masterton, "The Manitou" is another of those absolutely wacky movies that one simply has to see to believe. It's bizarre, it's fanciful, it's often very (intentionally?) funny, and it features an amazing ensemble of veteran talent that plays everything with incredible sincerity. It marked the filmmaking swan song for the late, great B movie director William Girdler, who'd given us such classics as "Grizzly" and "Day of the Animals", who died in a helicopter crash while scouting locations for a follow-up flick. Girdler really outdoes himself here what with the level of cheese and sleaze.

An engaging Tony Curtis plays phony psychic Harry Erskine, whose good friend Karen Tandy (Susan Strasberg) is suffering through one hell of a problem: a hump growing (and growing) on her back is not a tumor as doctors initially believe but an honest to God fetus, the reincarnation of a 400 year old, all powerful Indian medicine man named Misquamacus. The doctors, faced with the knowledge that their attempts to operate on Karen have met with disaster, are forced to acknowledge that things out of their field of expertise are going on. So a determined medicine man named John Singing Rock (Michael Ansara) is called in.

In addition to the aforementioned actors, Stella Stevens, Ann Sothern, and Burgess Meredith turn up, and while some film lovers may be dismayed to see so many fine actors slumming away, the truth is these performers play this material for all that it's worth. Also appearing are Paul Mantee, Jeanette Nolan, Girdler regular Charles Kissinger, and Felix Silla. Co-written by Girdler and co-star Jon Cedar (who plays one of the doctors) with Thomas Pope, this production treats us to scenes such as an old lady (Lurene Tuttle) levitating, the appearance of a lizard like demon, the floor of a hospital turning into a walk in freezer, and a priceless, amazing finale featuring a topless Strasberg and lots of irresistible "special" effects.

This is certainly slick looking stuff, with good widescreen cinematography by Michel Hugo, and thunderous music by Lalo Schifrin. Basically, everything *and* the kitchen sink are thrown into this mix for the sake of an entertaining show, and fans of the actors and the genre are sure to be endlessly amused. Movies like this don't come along that often, so we have to appreciate them when they do turn up.

Eight out of 10.

Well, for the most part, this movie stunk. It was so bad it was funny, although I must admit that the little manitou guy was kind of freaking me out with his mismatched eyes and evil smile. The ending is so cheesy that is makes the flick worthwhile.

William Girdler is an odd case of a competent filmmaker who even showed a stylish visual sense from time to time. Yet most of his films are terrible. This isn't a case of a spectacularly untalented filmmaker accidentally making outsider art, like Andy Milligan or Ed Wood. Girdler was consistently, quite nearly a good director. Odds are, if he had lived longer, he would have actually developed talent. With "The Manitou" he graduated from the world of low-budget genre rip-offs to the world of slightly higher budget genre rip-offs. "Grizzly" was "Jaws" with a bear. "Abby" was "The Exorcist" with (offensively stereotypical) black people. "The Manitou" is also "The Exorcist" but with Indian mysticism and bits of "Star Wars" thrown in for phone.

Based off a novel by hack horror author and sex manual writer Graham Masterton, the movie begins when Susan Strasberg discovers she has a thing in her neck. At first, it appears to be a tumor. As the growth continues to, uh, grow, baffled scientist realizes a fetus is developing inside her neck. Attempts to remove the growth results in disaster. Strasberg's friend Tony Curtis, a phony medium, soon discovers that the tumor is actually the reborn spirit of an ancient, evil Indian shaman. Once the spirit reaches maturity and enters our world, things gets craaaaazy.

"The Manitou" escalates in ridiculousness as it goes on. This is impressive, considering the movie begins with an Indian shaman being reborn through a tumor on a lady's neck. First off, it cast an aging Tony Curtis as a romantic league, in a relationship with the noticeably younger Susan Strasberg. Wearing a succession of unflattering tight shirts, Curtis cons old ladies with chicanery so hackneyed and obvious only a delusional old lady would believe it. The first sign that "The Manitou" will be rife with unintentional hilarity is when one of Curtis' elderly clients begins to chant in ancient languages and float inches above the floor to her death. The second big laugh comes when Curtis' hippy-dippy friends make the top of the villain's head appear. Just the top. When a surgical laser goes ballistics, the audience is far more likely to laugh then scream. Everything in "The Manitou" is pitched at a hysterical level.

About an hour in, "The Manitou" leaps from campy to goofy. A greasy-haired, dark skinned dwarf crawls out of Strasberg's back. The character's attempts to fight him off prove unsuccessful. The reborn shaman summons an evil spirit, which is shown by having an actor in an unconvincing giant lizard costume slither around on the floor. He freezes the entire floor of the hospital, including the present staff. Tony tosses a typewriter at the little person, which melodramatically explodes. (Because everything, even man-made objects, has manitous, you see.) This prompts the Manitou to toss decapitated heads, snow, and wind at the heroes. In its last ten minutes, "The Manitou" completely looses its mind. Curtis and his ethnic Indian friend open a doorway to outer space. Electric energy shoots through the hospital and explodes a doctor while Misquamacus laughs uproariously. A giant eyeball floats behind them, shooting beams of light and asteroids at everyone. The naked Strasberg rises from her bed, shoots lasers out of her hands, and beats the evil back. This is the kind of wacked out, hilarious imagery only seen in seventies B-flicks. God bless 'em.

Despite its unforgettable moments, much of "The Manitou" drags. Really, up until the last half-hour, the film is massively boring. Curtis slums about, disinterested. Strasberg spends most of the story bed-ridden. The sleuthing and studying of American Indian spiritualism mostly amounts to people sitting around and talking. Only Burgess Meredith's amusingly kooky cameo enlivens this portion of the film. Even then, Meredith delivers dialogue about the Indian population that is fairly offensive. Also offensive: The film's resident stereotypical medicine man character who is played by Michael Ansara who was, of course, Syrian. Heck, even the evil Misquamacus is played by an Italian, short actor Felix Silla. Honestly, if you fast-forward until the latter section of the film, you wouldn't be missing much.

There's very little intentionally good about "The Manitou." Lalo Schifrin's score is decent, incorporating traditional tribal music in with his usual action style. Michel Hugo's cinematography is quite lovely. While the digital effects are laughable, the practical effects actually aren't bad. Though the images Girdler presents on screen are absurd, there's no denying the guy had a flare for the dramatic. You're unlikely to forget "The Manitou," or at least parts of it anyway. Bad movie lovers should check it out, for sure.

The 70s churned out a lot of films like this one. There's The Manitou, The Sentinel, The Prophecy, etc. All bear a resemblance in that they could have been classics of the genre but instead fall a little too far into the realm of hokum. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy all of them. They just aren't really all that good is all.

Based on a novel by Graham Masterson, The Manitou is about a woman who believes that she has a tumor growing on her neck. When she goes into the hospital to have it removed, they discover that it is in fact a fetus and that it is growing. I really can't say how close any of this is to the source novel as I haven't read it.

Tony Curtis plays the ex of the young woman. He's a charlatan psychic who finds himself up against a real supernatural threat. Susan Strasberg is the woman with the growth and Burgess Meredith pops up as a professor who knows about the legend of the manitou.

The whole thing is rooted in native American legend. A manitou is a spirit that can be born on a man, woman or animal. A manitou can also be reborn many times until it reaches a level of rebirth and is accepted by the spirits as one of them. Don't quote me on that, I may have it wrong but it goes something like that.

The acting is passable, with no real standouts in the cast. The writing again is passable. The special makeup effects are impressive when they do show up. What really stands out for me in the film is the vertically challenged Indian who emerges from Strasberg's back. He is creepier than hell and used to good effect as the titular villain.

So here it is: The Manitou is a film that could have been really good and stood the test of time. As it is, it remains a solid flick, but completely forgettable.

While I must agree with many of the reveiewers of this film that say it is preposterous, silly, laughable, and the like, I must also add that watching the film is an entertaining experience. Yes, the story about a fetus growing on a woman's back and then becoming a four foot Indian ripping his way out of a tumor the size of basketball stretches the line of credibility. This pint-sized spirit has amazing powers as he can literally freeze an entire hospital ward, call forth the devil himself, and take the skin off of people's bodies through his mind. The most ridiculous aspects of the film, however, are the explanation and execution of how to fight the manitou. Apparently all things in life have their own manitou, so we see this incredibly powerful spirit temporarily beaten when Tony Curtis throws a typewriter at him. We are to believe the spirit of the machine harmed this powerful spirit. Yeah, okay. The special effects are very outdated and some of those will just make you burst out laughing. The scene where Tony Curtis(the former boyfriend of the girl with the shoulder-weilding fetus/pint-sized Indian spirit) and Michael Ansara(playing John Singing Rock or something like that who just happens to be an Indian medicine man ready, able, and willing to do battle with the most powerful Indian medicine man's spirit that ever lived...and this one apparently has ripped through the shoulders or bellies of five previous people) walk into the hospital room and see what I guess is suppose to be space will have you slapping your knee. But the very worst scene has to be the finale which I will not explain in great detail. Suffice it to say that Susan Strasberg(the poor woman aforementioned) is sitting up on a bed topless..., yes, you heard me, TOPLESS, throwing ele trical current from her fingers as she battles the manitou. It has to be seen to be believed. The acting in the film is not very good, but again very likable. Curtis plays a mystic and some of his scenes are good in the beginning. Ansara is ok, and Burgess Meredith gives the best performance in his five minute cameo. The little Indian who could was played much of the time by Felix Silla, the same fella that played Cousin It on The Addams Family and has appeared in countless horr/science fiction films.