Somehow the Medved brothers missed this little puppy when they were giving out the Golden Turkey Awards. Shame, because it lives down to the worst of the Ed Wood oeuvre. MGM released this movie as "The Wild, Wild Planet" here in the USA, instead of translating the original Italian title (literally "The Criminals of the Galaxy").
This little jewel opens with a neat diorama of a space base, complete with V-10 Nazi surplus rockets and CH-47 helicopter models traveling around on monorails instead of rotors, all shot in a dark enclosed studio - the sort of thing we know and love from Toho, Ltd.'s long line of monster films. It's a neat little set.
We see a fair attempt at portraying an orbital rendezvous between a space transport and a spare tire-like space station (no one explained to the producer that you slow a spacecraft down by firing the rocket engine in the direction you're heading to), then some outer space ballet in Halloween costume space suits.
The production values aren't so bad - the props are well done, the cinematography is rock-steady, but the acting and dialogue is wooden and amateurish. A lot of that could be due to dubbing for the English- language release of the film, but that doesn't explain the acting.
The costumes... well, they could have used off-the-rack clothing from designer stores in Italy in the 1960s for the science fiction-y uniforms (not unlike the Griswolds' shopping spree in "National Lampoon's European Vacation) and "futuristic" civilian clothes.
That doesn't account for the fact that the cops all wear foot-wide leather kidney belts over their chi-chi uniforms. Maybe space cops have to finish off every shift in the weight room in the future in Italy.
I'm not going to spoil the plot for you. That would be a shame.
Just know that there are prodigies of bad acting and lame dialogue galore in this film. For those of you who groove on le cine mal - more like "le cine puante" in this case - this is an hour and a half very well spent.
Name a failing of a spaghetti western or a Japanese monster flick and it's here. That's either a warning or an endorsement, depending on what you're in the mood for. That's what they make those lightweight beer cans for - chucking at your TV set when the real clankers appear.
Massimo Serato has revealed a hitherto unknown side here - he shows us he could have been the Italian Boris Karloff, while Tony Russel shows that other people can actually learn to act like William Shatner with a straight face if they try hard enough. None of the cast really distinguish themselves here.
Franco Nero, the only member of the cast who's known outside Italian cinema for good work, is wasted as a suck-up lieutenant to the dashing spaceship commander. His character winds up being called "Helium head!" a lot more than he deserves.
There are bits and pieces of a good movie here. The prop master really earned his money at times, but then there are the "space ships" with weak-ass butane lighters simulating rocket engines, the kit-bashed helicopter models serving as monorail cabs and the "future cars" with "beeg fins" and bubble canopies.
It's a fun thing - so bad that it parodies itself. Watch it if you really need some chuckles.
This little jewel opens with a neat diorama of a space base, complete with V-10 Nazi surplus rockets and CH-47 helicopter models traveling around on monorails instead of rotors, all shot in a dark enclosed studio - the sort of thing we know and love from Toho, Ltd.'s long line of monster films. It's a neat little set.
We see a fair attempt at portraying an orbital rendezvous between a space transport and a spare tire-like space station (no one explained to the producer that you slow a spacecraft down by firing the rocket engine in the direction you're heading to), then some outer space ballet in Halloween costume space suits.
The production values aren't so bad - the props are well done, the cinematography is rock-steady, but the acting and dialogue is wooden and amateurish. A lot of that could be due to dubbing for the English- language release of the film, but that doesn't explain the acting.
The costumes... well, they could have used off-the-rack clothing from designer stores in Italy in the 1960s for the science fiction-y uniforms (not unlike the Griswolds' shopping spree in "National Lampoon's European Vacation) and "futuristic" civilian clothes.
That doesn't account for the fact that the cops all wear foot-wide leather kidney belts over their chi-chi uniforms. Maybe space cops have to finish off every shift in the weight room in the future in Italy.
I'm not going to spoil the plot for you. That would be a shame.
Just know that there are prodigies of bad acting and lame dialogue galore in this film. For those of you who groove on le cine mal - more like "le cine puante" in this case - this is an hour and a half very well spent.
Name a failing of a spaghetti western or a Japanese monster flick and it's here. That's either a warning or an endorsement, depending on what you're in the mood for. That's what they make those lightweight beer cans for - chucking at your TV set when the real clankers appear.
Massimo Serato has revealed a hitherto unknown side here - he shows us he could have been the Italian Boris Karloff, while Tony Russel shows that other people can actually learn to act like William Shatner with a straight face if they try hard enough. None of the cast really distinguish themselves here.
Franco Nero, the only member of the cast who's known outside Italian cinema for good work, is wasted as a suck-up lieutenant to the dashing spaceship commander. His character winds up being called "Helium head!" a lot more than he deserves.
There are bits and pieces of a good movie here. The prop master really earned his money at times, but then there are the "space ships" with weak-ass butane lighters simulating rocket engines, the kit-bashed helicopter models serving as monorail cabs and the "future cars" with "beeg fins" and bubble canopies.
It's a fun thing - so bad that it parodies itself. Watch it if you really need some chuckles.