Hand of Death

i caught this kooky little horror film on cable the other night. it held up pretty well. the notion of scientist turned monster is obviously familiar, but it actually managed to be creepy and suspenseful..wished the guy had found a pair of gloves before touching all those poor people. i also loved the 'nightmare' sequence when he's exposed to the deadly gas, and dreams of beakers and flying white mice. kewl! how odd that it was directed by a musical comedy song and dance man. this is a fun 50's -ish horror tale, with delightful over the top acting. and it's really short. which is something.

Hand of Death (1962)

*** (out of 4)

A scientist (John Agar) experimenting with nerve gas accidentally infects himself and soon he's able to kill with the very touch of his hand. As days go on he also starts to form into a burned up monster. This film has gotten a lot of attention over the past several months since AMC started showing it in regular rotation. Most critics bash the movie but in my opinion this is one of the best "B" movies from the era. This certainly didn't deserve any Oscars but for a "B" movie it's damn entertaining from start to finish. There are plenty of campy moments but there's also some very nice cinematography and the look of the monster is brilliant.

Reading through some of the IMDb reviews, I was truly bewildered by the responses. It was like bullies beating up on the weakling in school...not because he necessarily needed to be beat up, but just because the bullies could. Well, I'm the principal here to tell those folks to lighten up and leave the poor kid alone! My goodness, this movie had a budget of $1.95, yet everyone is expecting "Lawrence of Arabia"? Come on.

John Agar is a government scientist out in the California desert who thinks he is a few steps away from creating a revolutionary nerve gas agent that will eliminate all wars. His mentor, the mentor's secretary, his scientist buddy, and even his own college intern think it's too dangerous and want him to stop, but John has noble and lofty goals and pushes on. Well, John has an accident, spills one of the liquefied variations on his hands, and slowly turns into a hideous, mutated creature whose touch can kill...and kill he does.

Maybe I was just in the mood for a fun little film like this, but I must say the acting didn't bother me, nor did the production values, the music, the directing, or the monster make-up. Yes, the screenplay is dopey, has holes in the logic, and a rather abrupt and unsatisfying ending, but this is a Z-grade film aimed at kids at a drive-in theater looking for a fun time, not stuffy film critics or pretentious film snobs.

Set your expectations at a reasonable level, have fun, and enjoy a great little throw-back to a bygone age of sci-fi/horror.

Scientist John Agar gets himself into trouble with some nerve gas in an experiment. His experiment not only turns himself into a mutant freak (which reminds me of the Thing from Marvel Comic's "Fantastic Four), but it also gives him the touch of death. Watching this movie is pretty much the touch of death itself.

A lost "classic"? A "long-sought horror gem"? Nawww! This is just a crappy little monster movie shoved out to drive-ins by a confused 20th Century-Fox no longer run by Darryl Zanuck. Fox had the knack back then to put out some of the most miserable, boring little b-films in various genres. Somebody thought THIS was worth making. Then again, at only an hour in length it didn't cost much in film stock. The cast came cheap, too, as did the effects. Poor John Agar could only get star parts in horror films and must've figured it was worth taking any part as long as he was top-billed. Unfortunately for him, he spends the second half of the film encased in a bulging, grotesque Halloween costume and is never seen again (there's not even the cliché deathbed return-to-normal moment). In fact, his voice is gone as well, reduced to a series of muffled, unintelligible growls and cries (for all we know he's yelling "get this monster mask off of me, I can't breathe!" or "I'm calling my agent!") Is it no wonder he virtually drank himself out of the business? And then there's that atrocious score by Sonny Burke, an otherwise successful producer-arranger of contempo music (Sinatra, etc.) Burke wallpapers the first part of the film with shrill organ and theremin noise, then tiring of that, decides to add bongos and bassoon-like honking to the mix, for a combination you could describe as 'Horror-Jazz Fusion.' A lethal cocktail for the ears, unless one is in search of bad scoring just for the laughs.

Plotwise it's the story of scientist who unleashes a gas upon himself that makes his touch lethal and his mind insane, and the only response to that is for him to spend the rest of the film running madly around town avoiding medical assistance. Coincidentally, this film's effect upon the viewer is the same as its story: A lethal gas that makes you insane and want to run madly in the streets trying to avoid any further contact with it.