When a spaceship lands on the moon, it is hailed as a new accomplishment, before it becomes clear that a Victorian party completed the journey in 1899, leading investigators to that mission's last survivor.
In 1973, the first manned expedition to Mars is marooned; by the time a rescue mission arrives, there is only one survivor: the leader, Col. Edward Carruthers, who appears to have murdered the others! According to Carruthers, an unknown life form killed his comrades during a sandstorm. But the skeptical rescuers little suspect that "it" has stowed away for the voyage back to Earth... Written by
Rod Crawford <firstname.lastname@example.org>
The mask of the monster suit was altered considerably. When Ray Corrigan was fitted for the monster suit, the mask was initially too tight. Paul Blaisdell, the maker of the monster suit, had to remove and rebuild the monster's lower jaw so the mask would fit better. Unfortunately, Corrigan's chin stuck out through the opening made in the mask. Blaisdell made up Corrigan's chin to look like the monster's tongue. The mask's original eyes (large and catlike, a Blaisdell trademark) were also removed so that we see Corrigan's own eyes behind the mask. See more »
Despite the vertical takeoffs and landings on Mars, nothing, including the grenades and gas bombs, is battened down or secured to the decks or bulkheads. See more »
Spokesman at Press Conference:
Ladies and gentlemen of the press: As you know, the first attempt to send a spaceship to the planet Mars was made six months ago. We knew that that ship, the Challenge 141, had reached its destination, but that's all we knew. Teleradio communication with Mars ceased immediately and we were forced to assume that the ship and crew had been lost. The man in charge of this expedition was a man who had become known to the world as the first man to be shot into space, the man who ...
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I haven't seen this movie in 46 years, but the thing I remember about it is the fact that I was so terrified watching it, at nine years of age at the Lincoln Theatre in Kearny, NJ, that I had to leave before it ended. I didn't sleep well for many nights after that.
There was a scene I remember where a crew member opened an air duct access hatch (or what, as I recall now, looked like one), and a hand fell down in front of him, obviously belonging to a dead colleague of his. The creature had stuffed the body in the ductwork. That was all I could take. I threw my comic book (I always bought one for 10 cents on my way to the movies on Saturday afternoons. My mom would give me 35 cents, 10 for the comic and a quarter for the double feature with cartoons in between) up in front of my face so I couldn't see, and ran up the center aisle, out the doors, and away from that horror. I saw just about every monster/horror/sci-fi movie made in the 1950's on one or another of those wonderful Saturdays at the Lincoln Theatre, and the only other one that made me run out was House on Haunted Hill.
What I wouldn't give for another chance to see two movies and three cartoons for a quarter, through the unjaded eyes of a nine-year old boy, still able to be scared out of my wits by a guy in a rubber suit.
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