Mujeres prehistóricas

And here I thought our distant ancestors were small, stooped, hairy and naked. But now, thanks to Prehistoric Women, I know the women were long-legged, with curled hair, mini-skirts, and from a Las Vegas chorus line. Plus, the gene pool was big enough to include some shapely blondes. In fact, I'm now wishing I was born a lot sooner. Except the prehistoric men look a lot better than I do, like maybe they were recruited off Muscle Beach and had just left the barber shop. Oh well, the women aren't very cooperative anyway; that is, until the men ply them with big hunks of cooked meat. See, up until that time, the girls were eating their meat raw so no wonder they were always in a bad mood.

Along the way, we get to see how fire was discovered, how the lever was used, and how the swan dive was invented before swans. We also get to see how the full moon makes the girls go into a dancing frenzy long before the sounds of heavy metal, and how the feminist movement got a really, really early start. But what about that nasty giant who keeps growling and menacing all those beautiful prehistoric bodies. Too bad there wasn't a basketball recruiter to put all his 7' 8" under contract, that would have been a lot easier than burning down the jungle.

Anyhow, I think I enjoyed this cartoon version of prehistory, even though I don't think it matches my high school textbook. However I'm bothered by one really bad thought. After looking at all these wonderful prehistoric specimens and then comparing them with myself, I'm beginning to doubt the whole course of human evolution. You think maybe it's the cooked meat.

If you ever wondered how the human race first came up with the idea of fire and cooked dinners then this may be the movie for you. Over the course of this little adventure involving prehistoric women and dreamboat guys, both these incredibly important discoveries are made. Although it's interesting to note that these enormous human advances were evidently uncovered only after the discovery of beauty products.

Prehistoric Women is, naturally, camp nonsense of the first order. And it certainly knows it is as well. To ensure some, ah, authenticity these primitive characters only speak in a series of grunts. Events are explained to us by an ever-helpful voice-over man, who often simply describes what we can already see. And what we see includes an exciting fight between a caveman and a small cat…I mean dangerous panther, a girl-on-girl cat fight, an attack by a pterodactyl and, best of all, the fiery demise of a marauding, evil giant. This 50's exploitation flick is generally quite amusing but not really entertaining enough to be fully recommended. It's goofy enough to be quite likable though, although a better example of this kind of thing is The Wild Women of Wongo (1958).

I can't believe nobody's seen this movie. Not even 5 votes registered. This is a real cult classic, guys. Dinosaurs, women running around in fur bikinis, catfights; it has it all. Not a whole lot of talent, mind you, but that's not what we're looking for in exploitation, is it? The plot? Who cares. It's simple enough to follow with the sound off. Just sit back, put some heavy tunes on, and enjoy the action.

Imagine "One Million B.C." (1940) with fewer dinosaurs but more pretty girls -- and in color!

Presto! "Prehistoric Women". And of course, tradition demands that none of the characters speak English. (Trivia note: Only two out the six "prehistoric" movies ever made allows the characters to speak English, one of which is the 1967 Hammer production, "Prehistoric Women", ironically enough).

At least this seldom-scene 1950 production provides a narrator to tell us interesting things about evolution that our school text books neglected.

An oversized caveman developes an interest in Mara Lynn and Luarette Luez, the principle females, who provide nice eye-candy for the male viewers. This is a recommended second feature for "Mesa of Lost Women" for obvious reasons. And Allan Nixon stars in both films!

By junking at least twenty minutes of extraneous footage (including two totally boring dance sequences that are spun out to excruciating length), this little effort would make a passable feature for those of us who enjoy leg shows (if nothing else). It's true the fights with the giant and the pterodactyl are mildly effective, but the story, acting and production values are so lacking in quality that connoisseurs will find the whole movie a chore to sit through.

It's startling to find one of Paramount's top photographers, Lionel Lindon (later to win numerous awards for Around the World in 80 Days), working on this cheap-jack Poverty Row independent—and contributing such below-par work at that. Yes, all the shots are in focus, but that is the responsibility of the camera operator and focus puller. The director of photography directs the lighting, and just about all of the many night scenes are so badly under-lit, you can hardly make out what's happening!