La batalla de los monstruos

How to Make a Monster is an American International Pictures film about and set on the lot of American International Pictures. The premise is that the studio has been sold, and the new owners are going to make some major changes, including canning in-house employee Pete Dumond (Robert H. Harris), a noted master of horror make-up. It then becomes a relatively simple revenge flick, with a nice, slightly sci-fi twist in the method of revenge.

The idea behind this film is very clever. It also provided an effective means of saving money on the production, since not many sets had to be built or dressed, and even when that was necessary, AIP was able to use materials on hand from other films, such as the gallery of masks, in a way that makes this a self-referential treat for horror fans. The idea is good enough that especially in our modern era of film industry cannibalization, it's surprising that it hasn't been used far more often.

Aside from the admirable tightness of the script and the evergreen attraction of revenge films, How to Make a Monster works as well as it does because of the performances. Harris is a fairly subtle psycho, and extremely effective as an anti-hero. Especially in contemporary times, his situation--getting laid off after a company takeover--will find him many sympathizers, but it's also that he plays the role with such a mellow, likable, grandfatherly charm, and a self-righteousness rooted in his expertise and pride in a job well done. As others have noted, there are subtexts in the film of (homo)sexual predation, which give an added air of creepiness to Harris. His unwitting targets on that end, Tony Mantell (Gary Conway) and Larry Drake (Gary Clarke), are played with an appropriate wide-eyed and willing innocence.

If there's a flaw in How to Make a Monster it's that nothing about it--except maybe the very final scene--is particularly atmospheric or suspenseful, but oddly, it really doesn't matter, because it's a good story told well enough that it keeps you engaged for its length. I still haven't quite figured out why a few American International Pictures, including this one, I Was a Teenage Frankenstein (1957) and War of the Colossal Beast (1958), have the final scenes in color (I know it was a gimmick, but I don't really get the attraction of it as a gimmick), but it doesn't disrupt the flow of the film and it's nice seeing the gallery of masks in color.

I just finished watching the "Cult Classics" DVD release, which included the color footage mentioned in the other comment. Besides many familiar (and unfamiliar) monster heads, the film is a virtual who's who of American International Studio players from the 50's. One can almost suspect the movie was made to keep the contact players busy between films. If only Michael Landon had appeared as the Teenage Werewolf, I would have given it another couple points in the ratings. One also has to give the studio credit as the studio itself becomes the "back lot" for the film. And certainly, the plot of killing off studio executives must have appealed to all the writers, actors and production staff making the film.

American International Pictures, that famed home of countless delightful B flicks, takes self-referential aim at its own filmography with this knowing script (by the legendary producer Herman Cohen and his frequent collaborator Aben Kandel). It can work as a follow-up to the two A.I.P. "Teenage Werewolf" and "Teenage Frankenstein" classics, with two young actors, Gary Conway (the actual Teenage Frankenstein) and Gary Clarke ('The Virginian'), working on the studios' final monster movie. You see, the new regime at the studio have decreed that the current monster movie cycle is over, and they want to concentrate on upbeat diversions like musicals.

This doesn't sit well with veteran makeup effects designer Pete Dumond; unsung character actor Robert H. Harris ("Valley of the Dolls"), in a rare case of top billing, plays the unstable Dumond. He can't abide the thought of his career possibly being over, so he takes revenge on the new executives, using a new formula in his makeup to make Tony and Larry (Conway and Clarke) very suggestible. Once they are all made up, they make for handy murderers. Dumond and his weak-willed longtime assistant Rivero (Paul Brinegar, "High Plains Drifter") must then dodge frequent questioning by some very determined police.

The landscape is dotted with a variety of familiar character actors - Harris, Brinegar, Malcolm Atterbury ("The Birds"), Morris Ankrum ("Earth vs. the Flying Saucers"), Paul Maxwell ("Aliens"), Thomas Browne Henry ("Beginning of the End"), and Robert Shayne ('Adventures of Superman'), as well as the various creations of real-life monster maker of the era, Paul Blaisdell. These creations also figure into a final sequence that is filmed in color in order for us to properly appreciate them. John Ashley (the later "Blood Island" film series) does a brief musical number.

Overall, the movie offers quite a bit of fun. It is capably directed by Herbert L. Strock, who'd done "I Was a Teenage Frankenstein", as well as other flicks like "Gog", "Blood of Dracula", and "The Crawling Hand". It will have the most resonance for "monster kids" of all decades, but particularly those who originally got to see these efforts in theaters. No, it doesn't sport a lot in the way of atmosphere, suspense, or major scares, but it's pretty hard to resist, just the same.

Seven out of 10.

This is another solid entry in the teenage monster genre, starring the durable Robert H. Harris, one of the finest character actors of his era, familiar to fans of the Alfred Hitchcock Presents series,.

Like the other entries in this cycle, including Teenage Werewolf and especially Teenage Frankenstein, this entire cycle might have been renamed "Make Room For Daddy," although "Daddy" in this case is a terrible authority figure whose only goal is to control his children, dominate them, and ultimately destroy them.

The entire cycle is a deconstruction of the myth of a paternal authority that dominates the social sciences of the day (parodied in Stephen Sondheim's "Gee, Officer Krupke" from West Side Story and in teen rebellion films, especially the Nicholas Ray-James Dean film, "Rebel without a Cause"), but also familiar in the idealized Daddy roles in numerous sitcoms of the era, especially, of course, Father Knows Best.

This series might have punningly be called Father Knows Beast. The entire cycle is a brilliant deconstruction of paternalistic authority. This is not to say it doesn't work on its own narrative level, though much of the plot is hokum. Still it's well done combining horror and detective genres quite well, and excellently directed as well.

Though generally consigned to the teen and drive-in genre, few films of the 1950s more seriously challenged the myth of parental authority as well as the films in this cycle did.

It could be argued that American International Pictures revived the werewolf in the late 50's with "I Was A Teenage Werewolf". It was released at a time when television was becoming common in the home, which meant that fewer people went out to the movie theatres. Those that did were largely of a teenage audience, something that AIP clearly understood, and the success of their movie ensured a revival of the whole genre.

In this clever, self-referential sequel (of sorts), American International Studios are closing down production of horror movies in order to make more musicals, which sounds fairly true to life in what may have been happening in some studios at the time. Anyway, this means that famed makeup artist Pete Dumond, possibly based on Jack Pierce, will be out of a job because he specialises only in monsters. He isn't too happy about all this, so he decides to take revenge on the new owners of the studio by turning his "Teenage Werewolf" and "Teenage Frankenstein" actors into real monsters using a mind control makeup paste thingy. It all takes place during the filming of a "Teenage Werewolf meets the Teenage Frankenstein" movie.

This is a pretty neat idea, and the script explores it very well. There's some great cheesy dialogue, a wonderful lead performance from Robert H. Harris as the makeup artist, and from Paul Brinegar as his nervous assistant. The two 'teenage' stars, who were actually in their early twenties when this film was made, play their roles with that all-American wide-eyed innocence that actually works pretty well in parts such as this.

AIP were famed for producing their horror movies on low budgets, often less than a hundred thousand while at the time major studios generally set their budgets in the millions. This movie doesn't really look that cheap, the sets look perfectly fine especially the final set in the makeup artist's house where the big finale takes place. This also features a dramatic shift into color so that you can appreciate his mask collection even more, which is pretty neat.

"How To Make A Monster" is a very entertaining film, which I'd recommend to anyone who likes these cheesy old horror movies. You won't be disappointed.