Running Time: 54 minutes
Release Date: May 2, 1961
Directed/Written by: Coleman Francis
Review by: Fran Appleton, Dominatrix of Schlock
“Aaah!” “Aaaahh!” “AAAAAHHHHHH!”
These are the only lines you’ll get from the great TOR JOHNSON in this inane movie meltdown. And if you, like me, adore that big barrel of Swedish man-monster, you’re gonna be mightily disappointed in director Coleman Francis’s waste of a perfectly good Tor. The best thing about this dud is the mercifully short running time. And maybe ¼ of that bare hour contains actual screen time with the Torminator. Bummer, huh? Exploding with inconsistencies, ridiculous edits, and a bizarre narrator straight out of every high school Driver’s Ed movie you’ve ever seen, “THE BEAST OF YUCCA FLATS” promises to deliver a veritable nuclear blast of bad- movie goodness. Cold War Commies; mutilating radiation; a vacationing family; two hot chicks; and a deep-fried psycho Beast in the person of Ed Wood alumni Tor Johnson. A fine start, right? Here we go, Movie Slaves:
Our movie opens with the sound of a ticking clock. Loud. REALLY loud. Cut to a pixie-ish chick fresh from a shower, toweling herself off (and here we glimpse an actual bewb, which should have earned the entire movie an X rating in the year 1961). TOCK... TOCK... TOCK... TOCK... Now we see only the shuffling feet and beat up pant-legs of some ponderous male who’s sneaked into her room with bad intentions. Who might it be? The concierge? The pizza guy? Maybe it’s the janitor here to fix that freakin clock that’s ticking loud enough to wake Marlee Maitlin. TOCK... TOCK... TOCK... Maybe it’s Captain Hook and that clock-eating crocodile that follows him everywhere.
The girl sees the fiend. Her eyes widen. Gargantuan hands clasp her by the neck, oh-so-gently. She leans back gracefully onto the pillow. Is this supposed to mean mystery dude strangled her to death? More like accupressured her to death. The “kill” scenes in this film are a running joke. Shot, mangled, or strangled, everyone seems to go serenely to sleep, particularly when “attacked” by The Beast. He has the magic touch of a trained spa esthetician. And this first scene has little to do with the movie. It’s pretty much all tock. Maybe Coleman wanted an excuse to sneak in some nudity so we wouldn’t be tempted to run off too soon for popcorn and a pee.
Cut to a Nevada desert landing strip and Professor Joseph Javorski ( TOR JOHNSON), a defecting Russian scientist, and his briefcase-toting assistant. They’re being escorted off the plane by a few supportive FBI agents from the good old USA. No need to keep track of what’s going on – que THE NARRATOR, our Omniscient Voice of Existential Profundity, who will guide us through this entire 60 minutes of cinematic train wreck. Also on the airstrip is a car containing a couple dour looking men. Our narrator informs us they are two of the Kremlin’s best, most ruthless agents. If that’s so, the Kremlin must have a piss-poor hiring process, coz these fellas are parked in full view of the FBI and look about as dangerous as those two guys in the Sonic commercials. Our narrator’s voice chills us with intensity. “Their orders? Get the briefcase. Kill Javorski.” Darn! And I was thinking more along the lines of a cherry slush and some chili fries on the 99 Cent Meal Deal!
A quick, flaccid shoot out takes place, then all involved jump into their respective vehicles for a leisurely chase through the Nevada desert. No, wait –the Idaho mountains. No, wait - an East Kansas farm. No, wait- a forest. In Montana. Up pops the voice of our narrator with the cryptic statement, “A flag. On the moon. How did it get there?” Wtf? What does that have to do with anything? What I wanna know is how come these damn cars haven’t run outta gas after a non-stop drive through 3 consecutive states? Suddenly we’re back in the desert. Perhaps one of the guys finally had to take a leak. Both cars roll to a stop and the Yanks and Ruskies renew their aborted shootout. An UNARMED American agent clutches himself and falls to the ground for no discernable reason. When the Russians check on him, he’s miraculously got a gun in his hand! It’s the NRA Fairy, I just know it! USA! USA! Too late – FBI guy is dead. Or is he asleep? We’re never quite sure in this movie.
Meanwhile, Professor Javorski is lumbering around the desert, swinging his briefcase like a distracted coed on Spring Break. The narrator’s voice breaks in. “Yucca Flats. The A-Bomb.” On that cheery note an explosion, accompanied by a blinding flash, knocks the Professor to his knees. A bit of dramatic stock-footage shows three unrelated nuclear blasts, and the scene wraps with Professor Javorski’s deep-fried hand struggling to reach his flaming briefcase. What was in it? Atomic secrets? His lunch? A better screenplay? Now, here’s the premise: the fallout from this blast turns mild Dr. Javorski into a slathering, mutilated, kill-obsessed Beast. How do you know this? Because I just friggin told you. We see no dramatic Jekyll-and-Hyde transformation; no clutching of the air or rolling of the eyes or any kind of special-effects indication of this. Also, the KGB guys are shown recoiling in the blast too, yet we’re left with only one monster. Oh well. Inconsistency thy name is Coleman Francis.
NARRATOR: “Vacation time. Man and wife. Unaware of scientific progress.” What progress? Hmm? We see a couple innocent tourists traversing a desert highway. What they’re doing driving around on a nuclear test site isn’t quite clear. Of course, car breaks down, man gets out to fix it, and suddenly he’s getting a soothing neck massage from The Beast, who’s managed sneak his 387 pounds up to the car without anyone noticing. The suspenseful music would be better replaced by something soft and New-Agey, like Enya. Ooh, yes! Yes! Right there! That kink has been bothering me for weeks! Hubby lies down peacefully, chiropracted to death by Tor’s magic fingers. Now it’s wifey’s turn. OH yeah! I’m definitely booking this guy for a rubdown next week! She too is massaged into submission, and The Beast gently gathers her up and heads for his desert lair. We finally get a decent look at him. Half his face is slathered with dried Elmer’s Glue and his clothes have been oh-so-carefully torn. Even re-hemmed. After all, nuclear mutilation is no excuse to let one’s self go!
A passing motorist discovers the dead or snoozing body of The Beast’s latest victim (or customer) Good Samaritan runs into town to report the grisly find. Now we’re introduced to “Young Joe Dobbs, desert patrolman”, Opie Taylor’s Mayberry stand in. Seriously , this guy looks about 12. Our narrator describes Joe as being “Caught in the wheels of progress”. Again with the Progress? What exactly is progressing? The narrator’s weird intrusions are relentless. “Touch a button. Things happen.” Really? Tell that to my computer after I downloaded Windows 10.
Murder, you say? Young Joe’s on it! He races to the house of his cop-buddy Jim. The narrator introduces him, using his most serious driver’s ed voice. “Jim Archer. Another man. Caught in the frantic race for progress.” WHAT progress? Why do you keep saying that? Jim’s actually been caught in bed with his hot wife, played by Donnie Reed Lookalike, Marcia Knight. Clad in a low-cut, shorty negligee, Jim’s Hot Wife will use up almost 2 full minutes of screen time looking pouty and fidgeting around on the bed in order to give you gents some maximum leg-and-bewbage leer material. Hi Mrs. Cleavage, can I come in and play with the Beav? Gratuitous is too weak a work for this extended bit of cheesecake, but we’ll forgive, because Ms. Knight is a fetching piece of eye candy, and besides, the poor kid doesn’t get one friggin line to say in this whole bit. On with the show.
Cops Jim and Joe roar off into the night to search for the killer. Cut to Tor-Beast, who’s managed to lug his female tourist all the way to a shallow cave in the hills. Man, actress Linda Bielema is one game lady! She was a joy to watch. Gentle giant Tor is swinging her around like a sack of taters and she never once breaks character. Tor Johnson, bless him, you can tell he’s trying to be very careful, and it’s quite endearing. Later on we’ll be seeing her lugged DOWN the hill by cops Joe and Jim, the Dropsy Twins. The Beast deposits tourist-lady in his man-cave, breaths on her a few times, then picks up a polished Alpine walking stick that happens to be leaning against a rock. He heads down the mountain in search of new victims. Narrator Man: “Javorski – respected scientist. Now – a fiend.” Nah. He’s the Ricola guy, out for a morning promenade.
Joe and Jim are searching the rocky outcrops for the Mad Masseuse. See Jim run. See Joe run. To their credit, it looks like the actors actually did a little real rock scrabbling. At least the narrator thinks so. “One slip! And a thousand feet to nowhere.” Well, sort of. If you don’t count all the paved roads, power lines and the occasional house we’ll be seeing throughout this so-called “deserted wasteland”. At last they stumble upon Tor’s man cave. Hey, it’s the woman! Is she dead? No, she’s still breathing; Spa-Beast managed to rolf her into submission. Here we’re treated to an extended shot of Joe’s behind as he crouches down to scoop her up. Thank gawd for the 60s male belt-around-the-waist-Cap’n Highpants look. There’s an awful lot of goofy close ups on cotton-poly cop booty in this movie. I guess we can thank our lucky stars we didn’t get our retinas burned out with an accidental zoom-in on a Tor Johnson plumber’s sandwich.
Back in town, newspaper headlines scream “BEAST KILLS MAN AND WIFE!” The pressure’s on for Jim and Joe! Cut to footage of yet another car on the same highway where those two tourists were caressed to death. Oh dear, now it’s an entire family! Narrator Man has this to say about it: “Vacation time. People travel. East. West. North. South.” Or stay home watching crap movies like this one. Narrator: “Nothing bothers some people. Not even flying saucers.” Well, that and telemarketers. It’s the Radcliffs; Dad Hank, Mom Lois, and sons Art and Randy, whom Narrator Man assures us are “Adventurous boys. Not yet caught in the whirlwind of progress.” WHAT FRIGGIN PROGRESS?? The only progress being made here is the steady fill of my bladder from that Extra King-Size Dr. Pepper I’ve been swilling out of sheer boredom! Oops, now we’re back at The Beast’s man cave, a long distance shot. What’s he doing? A bit of tidying up, looks like. While the monster fusses with his Ikea walking stick and arranges a few bushes, look to the top right of the screen and you’ll see Jim and Joe! Hey, Starsky and Hutch! Get the hell out of the damn shot!
The Radcliffs stop for gas and resume their journey. Bang! A flat tire! Pop Hank pulls over, Mom Lois languishes in the car, and the two boys wander off and get themselves lost. While this is going on, Joe Cop and Jim Cop are planning their next move. Conveniently, Jim has paratrooper experience, so it’s decided to send him up in a sporty lil’ biplane with a big scary rifle and shoot whomever looks suspicious. Joe’s parting words to Jim are: “Remember. Shoot first. Ask questions later.” Ah, good plan. And make sure to lawyer up, buddy. If anyone asks, I never said that, ok? Poor unsuspecting Radcliffs! Mama Lois notices the boys are missing so now it’s Pop’s turn the run into the desert on a search & rescue and get his dumb ass lost too. Just curious, but why are all these folks allowed to wander willy nilly on a site where a nuclear bomb was just detonated?
Jim Cop gets airbound, rifle at the ready. Papa Hank is having no luck finding the boys. He crawls through a barbed wire fence and suddenly notices a handpainted sign: “KEEP OUT. GOVERNMENT PROPERTY. MISSILE RANGE.” From the angle of the sign it appears the Radcliffs have been driving around on live boom-boom territory. Yo – this family’s been driving around on a FUCKING LIVE MISSILE RANGE! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? How did they get through the barriers? Where were the guard shacks, the military patrols, Donald Trump’s mile high fence? Were nuke-site vacations popular back then? And that plywood warning placard! Jesus! My neighbor had better garage sale signs!
Pop Hank stops to call for the boys. “Art! Randy!” For some reason, these names bug me. They just don’t have the same ring as, say, “Tommy! Billy!” Hell, let’s just write in some new names. Even the parents agree. Is it my imagination or do I hear the kids referred to as “Mike” and “Andy” at some point? Uh oh! Cop Jim looks down from the biplane and sees Daddy Hank running through the desert. Well, obviously this is the killer! Does Jim use his binoculars and make sure it’s not a lost tourist? Or an old rancher? Does he alert headquarters? Does he even think twice? Hell no! He opens the biplane window, leans out, and starts shooting. Interesting – you’d think at 125 mph his hair would be blowing around. Man, that Brylcreem must’ve been some hardcore shit.
Good Cop Jim aims his rifle, starts sniping at poor old Hank, and we’re treated to a few seconds of a blatant “North by Northwest” rip off. Pew! Pew! Pew! Pop Hank keeps looking over his shoulder while he runs, which is odd because when Cop Jim finally nails him, it’s right in the belly. Hank hits the ground, dead. Narrator Man must have fallen asleep, we haven’t heard from him in a while. Now he wakes to comment over Hank’s lifeless body. “Shoot first. Ask questions later. A man runs. Somebody shoots at him.” Christ, I need a drink! No, wait, Hank’s ok! He jumps up and starts running, not a drop of blood in sight! Superman Hank resumes his kiddie-search, but there’s a problem. He doesn’t seem to know where he’s been wounded. He clutches his stomach. He rubs his arm. He touches his knee. Stomach. Arm. Knee. Stomach. Arm. Stomach. Knee. Damn! Somebody get that man a bandaid! Dramatic footage of Cop Jim parachuting down to search for the body. But Running Man Hank has made it safely back to waiting wife Lois. He hops into the car and roars off to search for help, leaving her standing forlornly in the road eating Hank’s dust, in her tacky Sears-Roebucks ensemble and sweaty cats-eye glasses. What a prick! But she’s not giving up! She strolls off the road a little ways, still looking for her boys. “Richie! Potsie! Where are you?” Yeah, just where ARE those little snot-nose punks who caused all this to-do?
Art and Randy, those adventurous boys, have been wandering around aimlessly, looking nonplussed and really, really bored. “Randy?” asks the younger, “Are we lost?” His brother thinks for 5 minutes then answers, “I don’t know, Art. Maybe.” Well, if you don’t count the paved road and that house a few yards behind you, then yeah I guess. Poor kids – this is what an overabundance of chocolate-swirlies in the boy’s bathroom will do to you. Thank gawd the film starts speeding up now, with snappy juxtapositions of The Beast, the boys, Jim and Joe, Abandoned Wife Lois, and Hank, who’s managed to rustle up some neighbors to help with the search. The boys elude the Beast, hot on their tail and coincidentally happen upon his man cave. Of course, this will be a GREAT place to hide! Torminator shows up, doesn’t see them for some reason. Hey lays his walking stick carefully again a rock. Hey, somebody took his cute lady tourist! “Aaah! Aaaah!” Tor’s so annoyed, he picks up a big boulder and throws it just to vent a little steam. “AAHH! AAAAAHHHH!” Whew! That wore him out, so he decides to take a nap. The boys sneak out over his mountainous snoozing body and he wakes in the process. The boys take off – Ha Ha, Ding Dong Ditch! - and Torbeast runs after them, flailing his walking stick in the air. “Aaaah! AAAHHH! You damn kids get offa my lawn!”
Okay Schlockateers, I’m gonna end this crapfest here. Because you KNOW there’ll be a nice happy ending for all involved, right? Well, except for Mom Lois. She’s still alone in the desert, searching for her kids. “Greg! Peter! Bobby! Come out, come out wherever you are!” But WAIT – you don’t know JUST how sweet this ending’s gonna be, and I simply must add a spoiler, because it’s too damned adorable and Mistress Franny is a sucker for cute fuzzy animals (especially Seth Green! Hi Seth! Love you!). If you’re a true Tor Johnson fan, nothing in hisTORy can top the final shot of a teeny baby bunny hopping up and snuggling against the dying Beast, who pets and smooches him in return before expiring. Legend has it the rabbit came up out of nowhere, of his own volition, but Tor later spilled the beans; the big darling snuck a carrot into his shirt pocket. That Tor! “The Beast of Yucca Flats” languishes in spots. Little dialogue - mostly the narrator’s weird, unrelated statements, which makes the “plot” (ha ha) a bit hard to follow. But overall a good, schlocky piece of Atom Age Hysteria, sure to elicit giggles and non-stop snark throughout.
3 ½ Turds!
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