How to Make a Monster

In 1957, American International Pictures had a big hit with their I Was a Teenage Werewolf. Immediately following its heels came I Was a Teenage Frankenstein, and then this film. This film is in many ways an inside look at the workings of the movie business and its thinking in the 50s as well as the ending chapter in the Teenage Trilogy cycle at AIP. It is not a great horror picture by any standards, yet it is fun to watch. It has a pretty good story about a make-up man who gets the pink slip and then promises to kill the execs who fired him and bring the studio to its knees. Mild-mannered Robert Harris plays the vengeful artist with restrained aplomb. He effectively captures the insanity that courses through his mind with great subtlety. In the end, we see Harris for what he real was...not just an innocent artist but a monster obsessed with his works and his creations in much the same vein as Vincent Price's character in The House of Wax. The rest of the actors are acceptable, and the ending scene where we see the works of the artist is a walk down memory lane. On the walls one can see the head mask of the She-Creature, the It from It Conquered the World, one of the saucer men from Invasion of the Saucer Men, and many others. The colour sequence that is suppose to be in the final 8 minutes of the film does not exist on any version of the video presently out. Hope it is remastered.

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.

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.

Monster makeup man Pete Dumond (Robert H. Harris) is told the studio is closing down his shop because they've decided to stop making horror films. He vows revenge. The final film he's on has a teenage werewolf (Gary Clarke--not Michael Landon) and a teenage Frankenstein (Gary Conway reprising his role from the original). He puts a drug in their makeup that make them obey him and orders them to kill the studio heads.

Pretty much forgotten horror movie--for good reason! The plot is sort of interesting but it's basically a 30 minute plot stretched out to 74 minutes! A lot of talk but little action. There's also a pointless (and pretty funny) musical number by John Ashley squeezed in (purportedly he had some hits in the 1950s).

Some of the acting is good. Harris is enjoying himself and Clarke has some good moments. Conway however seems uncomfortable. The best part of this movie is the final 11 minutes--they're done in color (the rest of the film is in b&w). We get to see a good bunch of AIP monster masks, some blood, and Harris, Clarke and Conway in full color. Fans of AIP monster movies will get more of a kick out of this than anyone else. For the color ending alone I give this a 7.

Be aware--most TV prints have the whole film in b&w--the DVD has the color.

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.