SON OF SINBAD. RKO, 1955. Dale Robertson, Sally Forrest, Lili St. Cyr, Vincent Price, Mari Blanchard, Nejla Ates. Director: Ted Tetzlaff.

   There’s silliness and to spare in Son of Sinbad, with Dale Robertson and a cast of strip-tease artists cavorting around in skimpy outfits and Technicolor so bright you need sunglasses.

   Director Ted Tetzlaff was an accomplished cinematographer (Notorious and The Enchanted Cottage come to mind) and a director who had his moments (The Window, from a Woolrich story), and while Son of Sinbad will never make the pantheon of great movies, he gives it a certain gaudy panache, throwing bright colors across the screen every chance he gets and trying to impart a sense of motion to a story that is mostly inert.

   Also thrown across the screen are girls. And more girls. And still more girls, all wearing not very much at all, and showing it off with surprising stylishness.

   Mention must also be made of Vincent Price dressed in a circus tent, playing Omar Khayyam (!) with tongue in cheek, having a good time with dialogue that shows surprising glimmers of intelligence. The best-known line comes when he settles down to sleep and mutters, “To sleep… perchance to dream… An interesting thought, but I’m too tired right now; I’ll leave it to some future poet.”

   Just a flash of wit in what is essentially a good dumb movie.

EDITORIAL COMMENT.   I’ve not seen the movie, yet, but I have watched two clips from it on YouTube. The first features the exotic dancing of Nejla Ates; in the second, Sally Forrest dances up an equal storm while dressed, as Dan so eloquently states, wearing not very much at all.

   I have more pictures I could show you, but the one below will have to suffice, then it’s back to regular programming:

SINBAD THE SAILOR. RKO, 1947. Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Maureen O’Hara, Walter Slezak, Anthony Quinn. George Tobias, Jane Greer, Mike Mazurki, Sheldon Leonard. Co-storywriters: John Twist & George Worthing Yates; director: Richard Wallace.

   Moving on to swashbuckler movies from westerns, a while ago TCM did a series of “Sinbad” flicks which finally floated to the top of my to-be-watched pile.

   Sinbad the Sailor is a lush 40s Technicolor extravaganza with odd touches of noir as an equivocating Douglas Fairbanks Jr. moves into uneasy alliance with an enigmatic Maureen O’Hara, and they both play cat-and-mouse with hard-boiled icons like Anthony Quinn, Walter Slezak, Jane Greer and even Mike Mazurki and Sheldon Leonard, all looking a bit out of place in Arabian Nights country, but giving it a shot anyway.

   The stunt work is nothing to write books about (disappointing from a swashbuckler of Fairbanks’ pedigree) but the sheer, ebullient silliness of the thing carries it off.

Coming soon:

   Dan’s reviews of Son of Sinbad (1955) and Captain Sinbad (1963). In the meantime, I wish I’d found a copy of this photo in color:

JUNGLE JIM IN THE FORBIDDEN LAND. Columbia, 1952. Johnny Weissmuller, Angela Greene, Jean Willes, Lester Matthews, William Tannen. Based on the comic strip character created by Alex Raymond. Director: Lew Landers.

   I was joking around in the comments following my recent TCM Alert, posted here, saying something like this, and I quote:

    “As for Jungle Jim — the movies, that is — I remember seeing them at the local movie theater when I was 10 or 12, and thinking even then that they weren’t very good. I suspect that, as you seem to be hinting, they haven’t improved with age.

    “No matter. I’ll tape them anyway. Nobody says I have to watch them — but I probably will. Call me curious.”

   My goodness. I did watch one, this one, and I have to tell you, assuming that it’s typical of the rest of the series (*), I didn’t really realize how bad they were. The funny thing is, I’ve just checked some of the reviews this mess of a movie has had over the years. They’re generally favorable, and the movie is simply awful. I’d have to stretch like Plastic Man to say anything positive about it, and then I’d be lying to you.

   (*) This was number eight of either 13 or 16 films in the series. The last three Johnny Weissmuller essentially played himself after Columbia lost the use of the name of the Jungle Jim character. So unless I’m told otherwise, I’ll assume this one’s typical enough.

   But by golly, they must have been successful. They wouldn’t have kept making them if people hadn’t kept going to see them. This one’s barely an hour long, but without all of the stock footage of various animals found in all four corners of the world, it probably wouldn’t have been run much over 30 minutes or so.

   That plus a plot that makes no sense at all. To sum it up: ivory, a tribe of giant people, a lady anthropologist (the beautiful Angela Greene, whom you can see in the photo with Jim), rampaging elephants, greed – as exemplified by the truly and magnificently hard-boiled Denise (Jean Wiles), a chimp that does nonsensical things to make the kid folks laugh, and a rookie governmental commissioner who doesn’t know which end is up.

   Did I mention a crooked native chief? Truth serum? Well I have now.

   The costumes of the giant people (all two of them) were left over from some werewolf movie, I’m afraid to say. I hate to say this also, but the only reason that this review is so long – it’s probably going to take me longer than watching the movie itself to get it typed, formatted and posted – is so there’s room to fit all of the images in.

   But I especially like this small movie theater flyer I found online. I certainly remember those from either of the two theaters in the town that I grew up in, but I hadn’t seen one in many a year until today.

   In fact, the name of the theater on this very same promotional flyer is the Lyric, one of the two theaters I was just referring to. I’d wonder if it were the same one, but I imagine every other small town in the 1950s had a Lyric Theatre.

PostScript. If you read the review carefully, you’ll discover that I lied to you. There are some positive aspects to this movie, and I mentioned them both.

           27 Wednesday 2009

6:00 AM Laurel-Hardy Murder Case, The (1930)
       A fishing trip leads Laurel and Hardy to a mansion where a murder has been committed. Cast: Frank Austin, Stanley Blystone, Robert ‘Bobby’ Burns. Dir: James Parrott. BW-30 mins,

6:30 AM Bishop Murder Case, The (1930)
       Society sleuth Philo Vance investigates a series of murders inspired by Mother Goose rhymes. Cast: Basil Rathbone, Leila Hyams, Roland Young. Dir: Nick Grinde. BW-87 mins, TV-G, CC

8:00 AM Kennel Murder Case, The (1933)
       Society sleuth Philo Vance investigates a murder tied to a Long Island dog show. Cast: William Powell, Mary Astor, Eugene Pallette. Dir: Michael Curtiz. BW-73 mins, TV-G, CC

9:15 AM Dragon Murder Case, The (1934)
       Society sleuth Philo Vance looks into a murder near a mysterious “dragon pool.” Cast: Warren William, Lyle Talbot, Eugene Pallette. Dir: H. Bruce Humberstone. BW-67 mins, TV-PG

10:30 AM Casino Murder Case, The (1935)
       Society sleuth Philo Vance takes on a series of murders at an aging dowager’s mansion. Cast: Paul Lukas, Rosalind Russell, Alison Skipworth. Dir: Edwin L. Marin. BW-83 mins, TV-G, CC

12:00 PM Garden Murder Case, The (1936)
       Society sleuth Philo Vance suspects dirty doings behind a mysterious series of suicides. Cast: Edmund Lowe, Virginia Bruce, Nat Pendleton. Dir: Edwin L. Marin. BW-61 mins, TV-G, CC

1:15 PM Calling Philo Vance (1939)
       Society sleuth Philo Vance tangles with foreign agents when he investigates the murder of an aircraft manufacturer. Cast: James Stephenson, Margot Stevenson, Henry O’Neill. Dir: William Clemens. BW-62 mins, TV-G, CC

2:30 PM Call of the Jungle (1944)
       An amateur detective in the South Seas tries to track down a pair of jewel thieves. Cast: Ann Corlo, James Bush, John Davidson. Dir: Phil Rosen. BW-60 mins, TV-PG

3:45 PM Jungle Jim (1948)
       The famed explorer tries to protect a lady scientist searching the jungle for a polio cure. Cast: Johnny Weissmuller, Virginia Grey, George Reeves. Dir: William A. Berke. BW-72 mins,

5:00 PM Jungle Jim in the Forbidden Land (1952)
       The famed explorer leads an anthropologist to a lost civilization of giants. Cast: Johnny Weissmuller, Angela Greene, Jean Willes. Dir: Lew Landers. BW-65 mins,

6:15 PM Jungle Manhunt (1951)
       Jungle Jim searches for a famous football player lost in the jungle. Cast: Johnny Weissmuller, Bob Waterfield, Sheila Ryan. Dir: Lew Landers. BW-66 mins,

THE UNHOLY GARDEN. Goldwyn, 1931. Ronald Colman, Fay Wray, Estelle Taylor, Warren Hymer, Tully Marshall, Lawrence Grant, Ullrich Haupt, Henry Armetta, Misha Auer. Screenplay: Ben Hecht, based on his novel. [See comments.] Co-screenwriter: Charles MacArthur; director: George Fitzmaurice.

    “A GREAT STAR’S GREATER ACHIEVEMENT! Here is the Colman you knew in CONDEMNED … The Colman who startled you in BULLDOG DRUMMOND … Now giving you the thrill of a lifetime in a sensational story of sinners, sirens and strange adventure.”

    For once the publicity department wasn’t kidding. Here is a wild one that is too little known and features a great cast in a grand old fashioned romantic adventure. Colman is ruthless gentleman crook Barrington Hunt, who with his pal Smiley Corbin (Warren Hymer), is on the run from the police of several continents.

    He’s heard a tale of a hotel in the Sahara owned by a Baron de Jonghe (veteran character actor Tully Marshall) and his daughter Camille (Fay Wray), where crooks and exiles can hide from the law. Better yet there is a hidden treasure belonging to the Baron to be had by the first man smart enough to find it.

    Well, Colman didn’t play Bulldog Drummond, Beau Geste (silent), Francois Villon, and Raffles for nothing; obviously he will romance Wray, outwit the other crooks, and try for the treasure. Murder, sand storms, and melodrama abound in this cheeky little film that at 75 minutes moves like an express. Of course Colman will fall for Wray and end up battling the other crooks, and because this was pre-code he might just well get away with both.

    Wray is always delightful in this sort of thing, and it’s not hard to imagine why Colman falls for her, while Estelle Taylor (Eliza Mowbray) is a wonderful femme fatale, though it takes a bit to get used to her voice. Grant (as Dr. Shayne), Haupt (as Count von Axt), Armetta (as Nick the Goose) and Auer (as Prince Polakoff) could play villains with the best of them, always with an undercurrent of humor, and Hymer is well cast as Colman’s stooge pal.

    There’s an air of adventure and romance about the film and the crisp dialogue by Ben Hecht (based on his novel) and Charles MacArthur (Front Page, Gunga Din, …) adds to the film’s effect. The sets were designed by illustrator Willy Pogany, and the Moorish hotel in the desert is splendid.

    All in all it is a superior entertainment, gorgeous to look at, lush, and moves at a gallop. Colman is completely at ease in nonsense like this and carries the audience and other actors along with him.

    The cinematography by George Barnes is imaginative, and the film has few of the defects of many early talkies. For sheer entertainment you couldn’t do much better. The action is well handled and the cast of villains formidable.

    Yes, it is high romantic nonsense, it could as easily have come out of a serial in Adventure or Argosy as it did Hecht’s novel, and save for Colman, everyone’s performances are a little over the top, but that hardly matters in a film that looks this good and plays this well.

    In many ways this is a better film than either Colman’s set-bound Raffles or the more primitive Bulldog Drummond (for which he won an Oscar nomination in 1929), a grand fantasy that doesn’t care a whit it we believe a minute of it so long as we sign on for the duration.

    Colman is dashing and handsome, Wray and Taylor look wonderful in slinky, and the rest of the cast is colorful and on cue. This little picture is better than any number of bigger productions from the same era, and thanks to the never-never land aspect of the desert hotel holds up better than many similar films in more mundane settings.

    Frankly I could listen to Colman read the phone book, and when he has good dialogue and a role tailored to his style and charm, it is a real pleasure just to watch him run with the bit in his teeth.

    Unholy Garden is an old fashioned movie movie, and well worth repeated watchings. You can’t help but think that it must have been as much fun to make as to watch.

SIREN OF BAGDAD. Columbia Pictures, 1953. Paul Henreid, Patricia Medina, Hans Conried, Charlie Lung. Director: Robert Quine.

    Turner Classic Movies had a salute to Hans Conreid the other day, which was kind of a surprise, as I don’t think anyone would consider him one of the great movie stars of the day, to put it frankly.

    He began his career in radio — think Professor Kropotkin on My Friend Irma (1949), for example, a role he carried over to the film version, as did Marie Wilson in the title role, but most people remember the movie as the debut of a comedy team named Martin and Lewis — and he also did a lot of work on TV on up through the early 1980s.

    But movies? Not really, that wasn’t his metier, but I taped the ones that TCM showed, and my reviews of them will show up here eventually. (Assuming that you don’t mind, I’ll exclude The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T from 1953, which I’ve seen before and I decided I’d pass on watching again.) Conreid was perfect for radio and TV sitcoms, though — he was also Uncle Tonoose on Danny Thomas’s Make Room for Daddy — loud, sneeringly brash and willing to do anything for a gag.

    A role not unlike the one he plays in Siren of Bagdad, too. There’s a small amount of adventurous derring-do in the movie, but very little. The movie’s played for laughs all the way, and on the level of a mediocre radio show, much less TV, although the sets could have come from the same warehouse.

    Samples:

    Trying to distract a palace guard: “I beg your pardon. I realize they haven’t been invented yet, but have you got a match?”

    Making his way with his boss, the magician Kazah the Great (Paul Henreid), to Bagdad: “The sands of the desert have barbecued my bunions.”

    At a time when things are looking dark for the pair: “Where can I catch the next camel to Basra?”

    Story line: When the dancing girls in his entourage are kidnapped by desert bandits and taken to Bagdad to be sold as slaves, Kazah the Great and Ben Ali (Conried) follow and fall in with some revolutionaries. The Great Kazah also falls in love with the leader’s daughter (Patricia Medina), and you can take it from there.

    There is also a large magic trunk into which people are put, only to disappear, among other uses, including changing Ben Ali into a beautiful dancing girl (with Ben Ali’s voice, both unfortunately and amusingly), the better to infiltrate the Sultan’s harem. (Along this line of thinking, there is much to see in this movie.)

    One would think that’s a long way down for Paul Henreid, from Now, Voyager and Casablanca to Siren of Bagdad, but to his credit, and this is the honest truth, he seems to be having a great time.

    As for the director, Robert Quine, you may not be able to tell from this film, but he was on his way up — to films like My Sister Eileen (1955), The Solid Gold Cadillac (1955) and The World of Suzie Wong (1960), among a number of others.

HONEYMOON ACADEMY. 1990. Kim Cattrall, Robert Hays, Leigh Taylor-Young, Jonathan Banks, Christopher Lee, Doris Roberts, Gordon Jump. Director: Gene Quintano.

   What do you do when you want to do Romancing the Stone and Kathleen Turner runs too high for your budget? Kim Cattrall is as exact a look-alike as you can get, without quite the same underlying seductiveness. A little too wholesome. I guess for underlying seductiveness you pay extra.

   Robert Hays is the man she marries. Unknown to him, his new bride is actually a member of a super secret government agency, a courier service of the State Department, so to speak.

   They do all kinds of deliveries: blackmail, ransom, that kind of thing. They meet, she quits, and on their honeymoon she is asked to perform one last, small task.

   We’ve read or seen that before, haven’t we? In this case: a small matter of counterfeit plates. There are a few funny scenes, but most of them border on the silly.

   But then, I laugh at almost anything.

[UPDATE] 01-15-09. Speaking of Kim Cattrall, as I was at the beginning of this review, I suppose some of you saw her in that HBO series she was recently in. I haven’t had the opportunity, I regret to say. What I have found, though, is a trailer for Honeymoon Academy, which you can access for yourself by following this link.

   After watching these small snapshots and snippets of the film, I still think she looks like Kathleen Turner. And I also think my review covers everything else you’ll see in these previews. Certainly nothing less.

FATAL MISSION. 1990; aka Enemy. Peter Fonda, Tia Carrere, Mako, James Mitchum, Ted Markland. Co-screenwriter: Peter Fonda (*). Director: George Rowe.

   Ninety percent of this movie reminded me of a book in a poor man’s Edward S. Aarons “Assignment” series. Peter Fonda, as the CIA agent who assassinates a North Vietnamese general and tries to get away with it, with a little more prompting might make a fairly decent Sam Durell, but in the end he’s undone by the ending itself.

   I’ll get to that in a minute, but let me mention a couple of other things first. (1) Tia Ferrare may be an exotic-looking beauty, but to my eye she really doesn’t look Chinese, and that’s what she’s supposed to be in this movie, as the ChiCom who first chases Fonda to ground, then becomes his prisoner and finally his guide to freedom.

   As for (2), what do you suppose happens to Fonda’s first guide, a man who tells him “Once I get you back in one piece, I get ticket to USA…” ? (If this were a quiz, I can’t imagine anybody getting this one wrong.)

   The scenery is very nice, and the small little plot twist is acceptably nasty, but the ending is not so much downbeat as it is flat. Downbeat (I grant you) is par for the course in spy stories, as well as for Vietnam movies in general, but this ending is so meaningless as to make the movie that preceded it barely worth watching.

   I imagine you could make the point that the ending has as much meaning as the war itself. That could be, but I’d be hard pressed to say that there’s any reason for watching this movie a second time. (On the other hand, I’d have to agree with the basic premise that’s at work here: there isn’t any reason for redoing that foolish war either.)

      ____

    (*) Along with four other people, if you can imagine that. Each one must have been in charge of twelve lines of dialogue. This is an Action Picture.

[UPDATE] 01-14-09.   I remember nothing about this movie at all — nothing more than the review above, which I assume I wrote soon after I watched it. The revisions I did were only to improve the sentence structure now and there.

   I can’t even speak to what I felt was a major point of the film, but if the basic premise is what I seem to have suggested it is, then I certainly wish somebody had been listening (and learning) when it was important to listen.

[LATER]  I’ve just watched a trailer for the movie on YouTube. I still don’t remember the movie, and the trailer instills in me no great desire to rummage around for my copy of it on VHS.

NORTHWEST TRAIL. Action Pictures/Lippert, 1945. Bob Steele, Joan Woodbury, John Litel, John Hamilton, Raymond Hatton, Madge Bellamy, George Meeker. Cinecolor. Based on a story James Oliver Curwood. Director: Derwin Abrahams.

   As a word of caution first, several online websites that discuss this movie suggest that the connection to James Olive Curwood was totally imaginary. The DVD was also sold to me in a box set of western films, but since the setting is contemporary Canada (circa 1945), with both automobiles and airplanes not only visible but part of the plot, I’m going to call it an action adventure movie instead.

   Bob Steele, of course, was indeed a long-time B-western movie star, but in Northwest Trail he plays a Royal Canadian Mountain Policeman instead. It was toward the end of Steele’s career as far as leading roles was concerned, but the career continued on to 1973 in secondary roles. He’s probably most famous for his role as Trooper Duffy in TV’s F-Troop, but not to me, as the series, a comedy taking place in the Old West, never appealed to me.

   Playing opposite him in Northwest Trail is Joan Woodbury as Kate Owens, the daughter of a man to whom she’s bringing $20,000 in cash to help him meet his payroll far up in the Canadian wilderness. Their first encounter does not go well, which means of course they will eventually find themselves falling in love with each other.

   But I’m getting ahead of myself. The movie begins with mounted officer Matt O’Brien (Bob Steele) coming across the young lady as she’s sleeping in the middle of nowhere in a car with a carburetor that’s being balky at the high altitude. The young lady is greatly amused. The officer is stolid and inwardly grimacing as he tries to help her:

    “Say, tell me, is this ‘always gets his man’ stuff true, or just a lot of movie hokum?” she asks. “That happens to be the motto of the service,” he replies stiffly. “Oh, how noble. Well, where’s your man, or didn’t you get him yet?” Zing, zing, zing. See for yourself. It’s a scene that’s well worth the price of admission.

   My apologies for the smallness of Joan Woodward’s photo (and it’s not even from this movie) and the blurry image of the scene to the right. (Bob Steele’s being ordered back to his RCMP base by John Litel after he’s successfully reunited the lady with her father, played by Neil Hamilton of Superman fame.)

   I haven’t the skills to improve this second image. Maybe it can’t be done.

   But getting back to the story, it’s full of action, beginning with a robbery after O’Brien is assigned the task of escorting the young lady on the final stage of her journey, on horseback, since cars are no longer up to the task.

   Not all of the action makes a lot of sense, but there is plenty of shooting, chasing, and sneaking up on, plus an abundance of other suspicious activity.

   I referred earlier to Tim McCoy’s rather stiff way of riding in the saddle. You could hardly ask for more animation in a rider than Bob Steele, elbows flying, his horse fairly leaping along.

   Remarkably enough, Joan Woodbury is also an excellent rider, and overall, with sparks continually flying, she brings far more life to the story than the rather dour Mr. Steele does.

   What her character sees in him is another matter altogether, especially when all is said and done. That includes an ending I didn’t believe even as I was watching it – the solution being built out of the sheerest of gossamer fabric – and the clinch that occurs afterward seems as unlikely as the proverbial snowball.

THE PERILS OF NYOKA. Aka Nyoka and the Tigermen. Republic Pictures, 1942. 15-part serial. Kay Aldridge, Clayton Moore, Lorna Gray, Charles Middleton, William Benedict, Forbes Murray, George Pembroke, Tristram Coffin, Robert Strange. Director: William Witney.

   The plot is simple enough. In exchange for helping a small group of scientists and archaeologists find the long lost Tablets of Hippocrates, rumored to provide the location of a hidden treasure of gold and jewels, Nyoka Gordon requests their help in finding her father, equally long lost in the same area of northern Africa as the Tablets.

   Some observations follow, pretty much as they come to me.

    ? Kay Aldridge plays Nyoka as a fresh-faced debutante straight out of finishing school with a formal accent that is hard to describe, but in essence it sounds something like this: “I need your help in finding my fah-tha.”

    ● But no ordinary debutante is she. Living in Africa as her home, she has probably never even gone to a ball, or dressed formally. Shirt and shorts are her everyday attire. It is she, of course, who gets into a serious scrape at the end of every chapter.

    ● By “serious” I mean deadly. Going over a cliff in a chariot, lying on a sacrificial altar while a swinging blade gets closer and closer, being blown out of a wind tunnel built into the side of a cliff, and picking herself up and dusting herself off for the next step of the adventure.

    ● The cliffhanger endings — and resolutions — are very well done. I thought the wind tunnel gag was questionable, but I never went back to check it out. The rest? Very smooth indeed.

    ● Playing Vultura, the ruler of the natives who also would like her hands on the treasure, is Lorna Gray. Mostly she wear long slit skirts, but whenever the slit widens we see more of her legs, long and beautiful, than we do of Nyoka’s.

    ● It was my friend Jim Goodrich who suggested that I watch this serial. The primary reason was to see Lorna Gray. He remembers that as a 15-year-old (or so) all of his fellow buddies came out of the theater with their tongues hanging out after seeing Lorna Gray as Vultura.

    ● I am paraphrasing Jim’s actual words. His description was much more vivid. And accurate. And more couth, too.

    ● Both Nyoka and Vultura are more than willing to mix it up personally with the members of the other side, and with each other, providing for many highlights on ESPN later, if ESPN had been around in 1942.

    ● Nyoka in particular has no compunction against slugging away with her fists at the men with flowing robes who are in her way. Nor leaping nor climbing nor jumping. A real heroine.

    ● Mentioning flowing (Arab) robes reminds me that there is little other way to grasp the fact that the story is taking place in Africa. Otherwise the hills where all the action takes place look very much like the hills where many a B-western was shot. (As far as actual locations, IMDB says they included the Corrigan Ranch in Simi Valley and the Iverson Ranch in Los Angeles.)

    ● Guys in long flowing robes have a big handicap fighting hand-to-hand against guys who don’t.

    ● In the early going I thought the star of the movie was the guy in the ape suit. He disappeared for a while, then had a big role again at the end.

    ● I watched an episode a night for 12 chapters, missed a night, then made up for it by watching the last three in on big gulp. Couldn’t resist.

    ● When Nyoka’s father is found, he has been the chief of the Tuaregs for some time with no memory of a previous life. To bring his memory back, Dr. Larry Grayson (Clayton Moore) has to take 10 minutes off from helping Nyoka get in and out of her perils to operate on him, in order to relieve the pressure of his skull against his brain. While a huge fight is going on in the next cave.

    ● Professor Gordon has what might be called an instant recovery from this rather makeshift bout of brain surgery. He is up and about immediately, with no bandages around his head to indicate anything was ever amiss. And he almost goes out the wind tunnel with Nyoka for all his resilient strength and recuperative ability.

    ● I saw Jay Silverheels in the list of miscellaneous cast members. This was before he joined up with Clayton Moore as that other pair of characters that you may remember them as.

    ● I may have seen this serial myself, not in 1942, but in 1952, when it was re-released. I would have been ten. I’m not sure, but the guy in the ape suit certainly looked familiar. And by the way, that alternate title? Not a single tiger in this movie. It has almost everything else, but no tigers.