Goofy Dances in Sci-Fi & Horror Movies

            During the winter doldrums I find myself looking up “Dopamine” online. Sure, I know it’s some sort of “reward center” in your brain and that junk food and sugar release plenty of dopamine into your system. But what other things boost that sense of euphoria and energized well-being? Some say diet and lifestyle can do it. (Forget it). Also exercise. (God, no). Other dopamine boosters: heroin, cocaine, nicotine. (Been there, done that). In my search for pleasure boosters I discovered what works best for me is watching goofy dances from sci-fi and horror films from the 50s and 60s. There’s something so sublimely stupid about watching a movie about travelers in space who land on a planet run by women who put on a choreographed dance routine for the astronauts. And watching one after another gives me that dopamine jolt that’s better than a bump of coke or a God-awful treadmill.

            Now this isn’t a complete list- I’m sure I forgot some. But these are ten I have on hand to sample from. And If I make of stack of DVDs and Blu-rays and watch one after another afterwards I get the kind of rush I used to get smoking an entire pack of Lark cigarettes in bed.

            Cat-Women of the Moon. (1953) Victor Jory, Marie Windsor and the incomparable Sonny Tufts star as astronauts on an expedition to the moon only to find leotard-wearing beauties with elongated eyebrows (played by “The Hollywood Cover Girls”) with names like Alpha, Beta and Lamda. The astronauts have to battle giant rubber spiders and their own misogyny (one rocket scientist says to a moon girl, “You’re too smart for me. I like ‘em stupid!”). Tufts, a former opera and Broadway musical star, had difficulty remembering his lines in this hilarious grade-Z mess which was actually released in 3D. Tufts’ notorious drinking eventually got him in trouble with the law: he was sued by several showgirls for biting them on the thighs. The astronauts are fed food that “tastes like honeydew melon,” and later the cat-women do a dramatic interpretive dance- like Martha Graham by way of Helen Keller. 

            Fire Maidens of Outer Space (1956). British/American version of the Cat-Women on the Moon. It’s about an expedition to the 13^th moon of Jupitar, but those in the spaceship don’t even strap themselves in when they take off- they all are calmly smoking cigarettes at a desk on the ship. There’s not even any “zero gravity” during the flight. When they get to the 13th planet they find it has Earth’s atmosphere and populated by all females (save one old man)- the descendants of the lost city of Atlantis. They wear fetching Greek togas and do an interpretive dance to Borodin’s “Polovetsian Dances” to amuse the Earth astronauts. Meanwhile a pock-marked ugly monster waits in the bushes outside. Even dumber than you think, but at least there are several dance numbers in this one. And, in the opening credits, it states: “All characters in space are fictitious.” (Were they afraid of getting sued by aliens?)

            Missile to the Moon (1958). Basically, another remake of Cat-Women of The Moon. Two fugitives- Gary (Tommy Cook) and Lon (Gary Clarke)- stowaway on a homemade rocket ship heading for the moon. The lead scientist Dirk (Michael Whalen) finds two other unsuspecting travelers aboard- his daughter June (Cathy Downs) and her fiancé Steve Dayton (Richard Travis). Dirk is accidentally killed during a meteorite shower, but the gang does make it to the moon. There they are attacked by rock creatures (silly, Gumby-like creations) and are chased into a cave where they are captured by the female race that rule the moon, lorded over by their leader “The Lido” (K.T. Stevens). The moon women were played by International Beauty Queens, who, director Cunha admits, “were a real pain….none of them were actresses….and couldn’t hit marks and couldn’t say lines- it was frustrating.” During the “Ceremony” one of the space girls launches into a jazzy, improvised dance that goes on and on for so long you expect her to be pelted with overripe tomatoes from the annoyed audience. Mercifully the mind-controlling Queen Lido (wearing a chandelier headdress) screams “Stop the dancing!” not a moment too soon.

            Mesa of Lost Women (1953). Jackie Coogan (Uncle Fester on TV’s The Addams Family), with a fake hairy wart on his cheek, plays the deranged Dr. Arana (that’s Spanish for spider, stupid). Arana works in a secret laboratory in the mountains of the Muerto desert to cross-breed tarantulas with women in order to create a super race. “If we are successful I shall have a super female spider with a thinking and reasoning brain. A creature that someday may control the world- subject to my will.” Another riotous wonder from Ron Ormond, who, with his wife June, directed Lash LaRue westerns and sleaze greats like The Exotic Ones and Please Don’t Touch Me. The relentless flamenco-guitar-and-piano soundtrack will drive you mad. One of the doctor’s prize specimens is Tarantella (Tandra Quinn), a dark-haired beauty who performs at a local dive bar. She does this vampy barefoot dance in front of a roaring fire that is a sight to see. It fittingly ends when a deranged bar patron shoots her to death. She’s as graceful as Cyd Charisse on animal tranquilizers.

            The Wild Women of Wongo (1958). A loony prehistoric-chick flick, shot in Florida, about the scantily clad cavewomen of the isle of Wongo (who have ugly husbands) and the musclebound morons from the nearby island of Goona (who have ugly brides). The “Wongo Temple Dance” shot in Coral Castle is a high point in the film. The High Priestess transforms on the throne to a dancer in a spangled bathing suit with an alligator on her head. Then she screams “Dance, maidens of Wongo before the Dragon God! Offer yourselves to him as a sacrifice! Dance!” And boy, do they ever. Writhing and whipping their heads back and forth like The Rockettes if they had been kneecapped.

            The Horror of Party Beach (1964) This classic beach-party horror movie (filmed in Connecticut) is about sea creatures caused by nuclear waste. The monsters look like Black Lagoon-wannabes but with rows of hot dogs sticking out of their mouths. The Del-Aires perform “The Zombie Stomp” causing carefree teens to dance wildly on the beach while a young swimmer gets clawed to death by the creature. The immortal lyrics: “Oh, everybody do the zombie stomp/Just slam your foot down with an awful thump/You reach out further and further/Getting closer, getting closer/It’s the living end!”

            Village of the Giants (1965). Teens are transformed into 30-foot giants by a strange substance called “Goo,” created by a kid scientist (little Ron Howard). With Beau Bridges as a towering delinquent who helps terrorize the town. Directed by Bert. I. Gordon, who was getting a lot of mileage adapting The Food of the Gods by H. G. Wells for films. But it’s the beginning of the movie that makes me insane. During a fierce rain storm a car full of teens crash and they all jump out and start dancing wildly in the mud. This frantic frugging, rock ‘n roll freak-out goes on for almost 6 minutes!

            Prehistoric Women (1967) Hammer Studios recycled sets and costumes from their One Million Years B.C. epic (starring Raquel Welch) for this howler starring Michael Latimer as a jungle guide named David Marchand who is inexplicably catapulted back into prehistoric time. He is captured by a tribe of female warriors ruled by Queen Kari (the gorgeous Martine Beswick). Their caste system is that brunettes rule and blondes are their slaves. The blondes are even forced to put on dances for their captured prisoner (who they intend to sacrifice to their Rhino God). The dancing slaves flail about, shaking their peroxided manes like mad in this camp casserole

            She Demons (1958) It’s about a group who are shipwrecked on an uncharted island. There’s the stalwart leading man Fred Macklin (Tod Griffin), the wisecracking crewmate (Victor Sen Yung) (who makes far too many cringe-inducing “Chow Mein” jokes), and the spoiled, blonde bratty rich girl- Jerrie Turner (played by Irish McCalla, famed for the TV series Sheena, Queen of the Jungle). Jerrie just bitches and moans on the beach, her only interest, “Where’s my powder blue cashmere shorty?” The survivors soon find that the island is inhabited by a bunch of Nazi soldiers who delight in whipping and imprisoning a bunch of native girls. You can tell by their bad German accents, crying “Schnell!” every so often to hilarious effect. The island is ruled by a Mengele-like doctor (Rudolph Anders) who is experimenting on the natives turning them into “She Demons” with crusty make-up and fake fangs, just to return his scar-faced wife Mona’s (Leni Tana) beauty. Mona walks around with her entire head bandaged until the finale when she reveals her hideous real appearance. Leni Tana didn’t want to wear all that terrible make-up at the end so Richard Cunha’s own wife filled in. One of the highlights in the film is a native dance number (accompanied by bongos) by The Diane Nellis Dancers, that is riotously funny.

            Sting of Death (1966). William Grefe (Death Curse of Tartu) directed this laugh riot about a half-man, half-jellyfish monster in the Florida Everglades that assaults frugging, bikini-clad college students. The ridiculous creature- a man wearing a wet suit festooned with seaweed and a plastic bag over his head- is unforgettable. The director laughingly admitted to me at a Chiller Theatre Convention years back that the actor inside nearly suffocated. The kids all dance wildly to a record by Neil Sedaka, at the time a recording sensation, who croons the theme song, “Do The Jelly Fish” with these timeless lyrics: “Wella, you’ve gotta jella/or you’re not any fella/Ring the bella with every Cinderella/when you can jella/and do the jella jellyfish!/Hey! Hoo! Hey! Ha!”