If there is anything to be learned from watching crappy 1950s b-movies it is that you don't mess with Mars. If they're not seeking to conquer us and grind our corpses under their multi-tentacled jackboots, they're just going to obliterate us with some supermegaawesome weapon because of our hubris and our love of big-band swing music. Martians come at us in waves of flying saucers, in ground-pounding tripods, and in more sneaky forms, like mind-controlled Republican presidential candidates or intelligent space-fairing slugs wearing human skins for camouflage.
And they come in Techno-Color, too!
But the single most defining characteristic of any nasty bug-eyed Martian invader is that they want our women. Oh yes, they just crave our nubile young fertile females and their bob haircuts and poodle skirts and their healthy breasts. Many a Martian invasion has centered on their insatiable desire to get their grubby, thieving, communist-stand-in claws on America's invaluable stockpile of sexy blonde schoolgirls in pigtails. Yeah, I guess they could also be after the foreign chicks, but, come on, if you were a Martian in 1954 wouldn't you rather kidnap Becky Billie Sue from her beach bikini party in Malibu than Eeko from her blowfly-infested mud hut in Nigeria? If you have to ask, then you clearly haven't been watching many b-movies from the 1950s... The point is, and I cannot stress this enough, Martians want our women.
Hands off, you beast, leave some for the rest of us!
Well, unless you are the "Devil Girl from Mars", then you want our men. Which just sounds unsettling to me in every way. It's like everything I knew was a lie, every long-held belief in the Martians and their love of captive white women has been shattered, it throws everything into question. If you can believe that Martians are here for our men instead of our fine, fine women, then who is to say that maybe (just maybe) the Commies are not godless bloodthirsty zombies bent on world domination? And if the Commies (fucking Commies...) are really just nice normal people who happen to have a different socio-economic system, then who is to say that the sky is blue, water is wet, and pizza is tasty? My roundabout point is that this so-called Devil Girl from Mars has shaken the very foundations of my entire belief system and I am not happy about it. On the plus side, now I don't have to worry about Ann Curry being abducted by Martians (a reoccurring nightmare of mine).
Oh sweet Ann, run, run into my loving arms...
Anyway, enough rambling, on to our show. We open in the dead of winter in an isolated inn up in the howling wilderness that is backwoods northern Scotland. This inn (and its attached boarding rooms) will serve as the primary set location for our movie, a familiar-looking, bland and nondescript pub and bed-and-breakfast locale that could really be anywhere in the world (except Russia, they don't have joy). The numerous staff and patrons of this pub will be our cast and we will get to know most of them fairly well by the final act.
This movie is shot in murky shadowy black and white, so apologies in advance for the quality of the screen caps.
Wikipedia tells me this movie is an adaptation of a stage play, and you can clearly see how that would be true. The blocking, the pacing, the single open set, the way everyone seems to enter from either the left or right of the set, say a few lines, and then exit the way they came, these are all hallmarks of a stage play. There are a few externals for this movie, but they're mostly just establishing shots that do little to advance the plot.
Everyone stand in a line abreast now.
A menagerie of characters are thrown at us in an extremely short period of time and I predict right now that there's going to be about four too many characters to support this story's weight. There's the prudish innkeeper and her cuckolded groggy Scottish husband. There's the two employees, the drag-leg creepy maintenance guy and Doris the barmaid. There's a visiting family with their aw-shucks 10-year old boy staying the winter. There's a beautiful big city fashion model, inexplicably slumming it out in the sticks. There's a London science-guy professor and a hammy newspaper reporter who are lost and looking for a bed for the night. And there's an escaped murderer on the loose who has come here because he was in love with Doris at one time. All these people rapidly swirl in and out of the scene in the first 15 minutes, efficiently tossing about practiced lines and snippets of exposition and then stepping aside so the next person can do the same. We will get to know them further as this review goes on but I fully expect you, as did I, to focus on a couple of main characters.
Half of you need to go home.
I must say something about the musical score here, because it's hard to ignore that the orchestration is downright overwhelming at times. It plays during dialogue, it plays during bridges and establishing shots, it plays damn near all the time when you expect it not to. Often you have to crank up the volume to hear what the characters are saying over it and I hate doing that. And, somewhat surprisingly, there's some cracking good dialogue in danger of being missed. The short but powerfully emotional exchange between the escapee and Doris, where he defends his criminal conduct by shouting "It was an accident!" and she yells right back at him without missing a beat "Was it an accident that you married her instead of me?", is the best bit in the movie so far.
I like well-written exposition.
There's some (manufactured) tension in this opening act as we get to know the characters. The scenery-devouring newspaperman has his eye on the mysterious fashion model, and he also recognizes the escaped convict for who he really is (he's going by an assumed name here). There's also the bitter/angry/deep love between the convict and Doris, which I hope will be explored more as the movie flows on as it's shaping up to be the most interesting of the relationships. And to water down all this yelling and accusing and wooing, we have the Iron Lady innkeeper constantly emasculating her milquetoast husband in front of everyone (comedy relief Scottish style!). Just a lot of stuff going on so far.
She's hiding the spoons.
So then a UFO lands nearby. Yeah, just like that, just buzzes over and plops down in the heather without so much as a by-your-leave. As far as design, it looks much like most other 1950s flying saucers, little more than a hubcap off a '32 Morris Minor with an airhose regulator hot-glued on the bottom. The most notable thing about it happens to be the sound it makes, not the typical bwoops and bleeps but a roaring throttles-open jet turbine whine. I am struggling to think of another alien invasion movie, from any era or nation, in which the UFO was anything other than a silent stealthy glider with an attendant electronica muzak sound system, so kudos to them here.
Flames shooting out the bottom, nice.
Undeniable proof of extraterrestrial life causes some consternation, but not as much as you'd think as our cast is more concerned with love and other icky things. Sure, the reporter smells a scoop and races off to find a phone, but everyone else just goes about their business (stiff upper lip and all, if the Blitz didn't rattle them this sure won't). In a lot of ways this seems to be a screenplay (or a play script, more accurately) that was originally written as a simple noirish thriller and at some point a UFO/alien theme was shoehorned into it to capitalize on the early 1950s cultural obsession with all things extraterrestrial. I end up saying that exact same thing about a lot of b-movies of this era and I'm probably not too far off the truth, but you can't blame producers and studios for catering to their audiences' desires.
Everyone's desire should be to see more of Ann Curry...
The murderer-with-a-heart-of-gold convict, in a moment of reflection brought on by Doris' confirmation of her love for him despite his being on the lam, seems blissfully unaware of the UFO outside the inn. He does look out a window, however, to see a hatch open in the side of the flying saucer and a ramp lower to the ground. Pam, who could possibly be walking down that ramp?
Perhaps it's the pizza delivery guy?
No such luck, Nate. (Did they even have pizza in England in 1954?) It's a frozen-faced woman (no way can she be called a "girl") in a long black cloak and a very unflattering leather helmet, walking down the spaceship's ramp as though she owns everything she sees. This is all-to-obviously happening on a soundstage, and that horizon in the background is the phoniest-looking horizon I've ever seen in a movie. The creepy maintenance guy limps up as fast as he can to see what's going on, only to fall at the feet of the woman, who looks like Cruella de Ville's mean sister. She finally cracks a hint of a smile, causing him to turn around and limp off in the opposite direction, the smart thing to do under the circumstances. A baby could tell that she isn't friendly. However, the woman seems to have set up some kind of force field which won't let him pass. He hits it, falls down, and is thereupon vaporized by the woman's standard- space alien-issue raygun. That is, skin, bones, hair, clothes, and all are vaporized, with the sole exception of his eyeglasses. I wonder about what sort of raygun can be set to leave only eyeglasses intact, but I have to say that the sight of the eyeglasses lying on the smoking ground is a good visual.
Why the Dominatrix outfit with the Magneto helmet? Does everyone on Mars dress like this?
I know it was a cliche of alien-invasion books and movies of this period that the alien was always hostile, but I ask, what good did it do her to kill this poor guy? Did she not like his looks? Was she testing her raygun? Did she decide to kill the first random person who happened along, so the humans would be afraid of her? Is she trying to make humans hate her? Is she just plain dumb?
Impressive raygun effects courtesy of rubbing an eraser on the film negative.
Back at the inn, the Professor and the reporter are trying to get their car started. Of course they have no luck, even though the reporter can't find anything wrong with it. They also mention that the inn's telephone won't work. I know this is another alien-invasion movie cliche, but I have to ask, what sort of power can an alien woman in a rather small spaceship have that allows her to prevent cars from starting and telephones from working? Is it some kind of way to disrupt electricity? If so, why are the inn's lights still on? The other people at the inn have seemingly gone back to their rooms to file their nails, or take a bath, or something, because there's no sign of them. I always bashed people in science-fiction movies for taking the arrival of alien spacecraft so calmly, but then I realized that during this period, governments were doing a lot of secret weapons development. Maybe these people aren't being unnaturally calm, maybe they're thinking that this spacecraft is a new Government design, and the woman is wearing the latest in high-altitude protective gear. I'd expect some screaming, panicking, and general carrying-on, but after all, they are British. (Do the Scots mind being called "British?")
The Professor remains cooly detached, because science taught him to be that way.
It takes the reporter and the Professor a few minutes, but after trying the phone again with no result, they finally notice that Doris is frozen into place at the bar, staring blankly ahead. Is she really, really drunk? Not according to the Professor, who determines that she must be hypnotized. Nothing has been said about what the Professor's degree is in, but let's hope it's not something like, say, mechanical engineering. The reporter insists that Doris' condition must have something to do with the spaceship, while the Professor pooh-poohs the idea, and they're going at it when who should walk in but the alien woman herself. She poses dramatically in the open door while a loud chord plays, but somewhat surprisingly she unbends enough to answer the reporter when he asks who she is.
"Hey, can you make me a sandwich?"
It seems she is Nyah, and she comes from Mars. The Professor doesn't believe this, but she shoves him aside, saying dismissively that he's a very poor physical specimen, which he is, being all gray-haired and flabby. She heads straight for the reporter, who is much younger and better-looking than the Professor, even with his 1950s greased-down immovable hair. (Ugh, think of running your fingers through that! Although he'd probably just get mad if you did it.) The reporter's surprised she can speak English, but she announces contemptuously that she can speak all languages. Nobody tries her to see if she can, so we'll just have to take her word for it. Her cloak's come open enough to show that underneath it she's dressed in a satiny tunic with dark tights and knee-high boots, a look that Ed Wood may well have ripped off for the alien costumes in Plan Nine from Outer Space.
And she never knocks, how rude.
I always wondered why aliens tended to land in out-of-the-way places instead of big cities, but it seems it wasn't her choice to land in the middle of a remote Scottish moor. She had some spaceship trouble and couldn't make it to London the way she'd intended. She also announces that she didn't come this way all alone, Johnny is with her. At least I thought she said "Johnny," which made me wonder if she'd already collected a human or two, but a quick look at IMBd shows that she actually said "Chani." Chani, though, isn't another person, or Martian, he's a robot. According to Nyah, Martian history was very similar to Moon history as depicted in Cat-Women of the Moon. Like their Lunar sisters, the Martian women ended up killing off most of their men. I'll omit the pseudo-scientific doubletalk Nyah spouts to explain what happened, just keep in mind that there are hardly any Martian men, and not surprisingly the Martian birthrate has dropped precipitously. So of course Nyah came to Earth to replenish the Martian breeding stock. She's going to pick herself out a few men, and they're coming back to Mars whether they like it or not. I don't want to rain on her parade, but that spaceship of hers isn't very big, and the few men she could fit into it don't seem to be enough to repopulate an entire planet, so is her trip going to be a waste of time? Not to worry, she says that once she gets back to Mars, the Martian women will build more spaceships, and presumably the Martian women can come and pick out their own men. Nyah points out that there's no use in Earthmen trying to fight their fate, she can freeze them just as she did Doris. You know, for somebody who's trying to take men back to Mars so they can father children, she's not going about it very cleverly. Wouldn't it make sense to sweet-talk the men a little, so she wouldn't have to fight to get them inside the spaceship and back to Mars? And how are they going to father any children on Mars if the women have to keep them frozen to control them? I'm sure she can find any number of Earth guys who wouldn't mind going to Mars if it meant they could have all the women they could handle. But then any race where the women kill off most of the men and only then realize the race is going to die out can't be too smart.
She's quite unpleasant, perhaps because vinyl chafes.
In the meantime, some of the other guests have come wandering in, and they're not as calm as the Professor and the reporter. In fact, they get almost hysterical when they confer and realize the creepy maintenance guy has gone missing. Nyah sneers and admits to killing him, pulls her gun on the reporter when he tries to grab her, and stalks out. Gosh, guys, doesn't she seem like the girl of your dreams? A quick look outside shows no sign of Nyah, leading the Professor to conclude that she can set up an invisible shield whenever she wants, which is pretty good work, since she didn't appear to be carrying any sort of generator. The Professor gropes around outside trying to find her, while inside the others panic a little. Fear seems to be loosening their tongues, and we learn that the reporter and the fashion model know each other, also that the reporter drinks a lot and the fashion model is in love with a married man. Just then the Professor returns, looking battered and saying that he crashed into the invisible barrier, and this causes more panic.
For a "fashion model" she has poor taste in stringy bow ties.
The reporter, who mentioned that he'd fought in World War II, asks the innkeeper if he has any guns. The innkeeper hands over a revolver with five bullets (that are twenty years old to boot) and says that's all he's got. To me this would be grounds for even more panic, because what can five bullets do against an invisible shield, but once he's got a gun in his hand the reporter's backbone stiffens and he's all ready to take on Nyah, obviously forgetting that she can freeze people without even being in the room. However, Nyah beats him to the punch and reappears in the room (maybe she can read minds?). I'm not sure if she knew what the reporter had in mind or not. It seems as though all she wanted to do was brag a little more about how powerful Mars is and how weak and stupid Earthlings are, but the reporter decides that now is the time to pull the gun on her. He fires all five shots at her, with no effect except to make her laugh at his feeble efforts. However, in order to lord it over Earthlings a little more, she invites them to visit the spaceship. Note: the reporter looks a little glassy-eyed, and he doesn't lower his hand even after she takes the gun away from him. A subtle example of Martian mind control, or just bad acting?
Or perhaps it's just the malt liqueur he's been knocking back all movie.
I'm all excited to see the inside of the spaceship, but it looks as though I'll have to be patient. The next scene opens with what I'm afraid might be a Kenny, a little boy who climbs out of his bedroom window and down a drainpipe to see the spaceship. Somewhat oddly, the escaped convict follows him. I mean, it's nice that he's concerned with the safety of a child, but he is on the run, after all, so wouldn't it be better to lie low and hope the little brat- er, boy could take care of himself? In fact, the little boy shows way too much interest in the identity of this Good Samaritan, but finally the prospect of seeing the "airplane" is too much for him, and he drops his inquiries to head over to it.
The kid has the thickest Scottish accent of all time.
He and the convict hide in the shadows, watching as Nyah leads the others to the spaceship. She orders them to "watch the power of another world" as she uses a spiky-looking metal thing to open the door of the spaceship. I'd be more impressed if I didn't have a garage-door opener that will do the same thing, but I guess they didn't have garage-door openers in 1954. Anyway, all the onlookers are suitably impressed. To my disappointment, we don't actually get to see what's inside, but the previously-mentioned Chani appears at the opening while Nyah looks smug, as though she's sure this will make the primitive humans bow down in awe of Martian technology. Chani, to be honest, is a disappointment to me. He's not as bad as the killer robot in Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, but he's made of a plain large box with a few knobs and a large slot on the chest, a big light bulb for a head, and arms made out of some jointed material, although he doesn't move them much. Sad to say, the large slot makes him look a lot like a mailbox. He also shuffles along at a speed so slow most 80-year-olds could outrun him. (This may have been for safety reasons, since it doesn't look as though the stuntman would have been able to see out very well, or maybe even had to look down through the bottom of the box to see out at all.) However, he can shoot a light that vaporizes a nearby dead tree and a derelict truck, so I guess he's good for something. I suppose robots like Chani keep Mars clean and junk-free. The adults all gasp and look terrified, although dumb little Kenny thinks it's all a lot of fun.
Oh, that's just sad.
We next see the door of the spaceship closing, although the movie didn't show whether the humans went inside or are still outside staring in awe. However, the convict and Kenny are still outside hiding, until Nyah walks up to them and orders them to get up. She must see something in Kenny that I don't, because she invites him to come back to the ship with her, and she's almost smiling! Kenny, the little idiot, thinks it sounds like fun and takes her hand willingly. The convict starts to protest, but a glance from her eyes (she's wearing sparkly eyeshadow and some long false eyelashes) sends him walking back to the house and climbing in the window he got out of.
Nyah and her Martian blender of doom!
Back in the house, the guests are emoting like crazy, wondering what they should do. As they should be, considering what they've just seen, but they're really over-the-top here, the reporter especially is freaking out more than you'd think an old vet like him would do. The landlady has just expressed a wish to get inside the spaceship, when again, Nyah appears. In addition to being able to hypnotize at a distance, she must also have ears like a bat. She sneers at them a little more, but this time the Professor must have remembered the old saying, "You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar," so he humbly asks her to demonstrate the full power the Martians have at their disposal. She agrees and leads him to the ship. This time we get to see inside, and the control room is as minimalistic as the robot -- in fact more so, because the control room is furnished with nothing but lights. The only exception is a large raised disk in the center of the floor, but the top of the disk is only one big light. There are no visible controls at all, or any seats for that matter. Nyah doesn't explain how you fly the ship, but she does explain why it's indestructible. It's made of an "organic metal," which can absorb any amount of heat or cold and thus can heal itself. She adds that the spaceship has an unlimited amount of power, which comes from nuclear fission on a static negative condensity, which may mean something to the Martians, but which this stupid human (who has a degree in nuclear engineering) says is complete nonsense.
While your advanced degrees are impressive, Pam, it should be noted that these two also have similar pieces of paper...
Maybe she's just testing the Professor to see if he knows enough to know it's nonsense, or if he'll pretend he understands it. If so, he's falling for it. I won't bother to quote any of her other statements about what powers the spaceship, because they don't make any sense either, but the Professor is nodding and looking thoughtful as though he should have thought of it all himself. After a few minutes of more gobbletygook, Nyah finally gets tired of showing off and walks the Professor back to the inn. There was no sign of Kenny all the time they were in the ship, and I wonder if Nyah didn't actually toss the little nuisance onto the static negative condensity to make some nuclear fission. We can only hope. Meanwhile, back at the inn, the guests are looking all hopeful and determined. Clearly they've evolved some kind of plan while Nyah was away. What can it be, Nate?
The spaceship interior sure is well-lit.
Well, Pam, the "plan" seems to be to fret and pace around the room, something they all do quite well. Kenny shows up just then, sadly not mutated into a shambling radioactive monster, and he can now go back to his room and play with his cars. The reporter guy then finds the escaped convict in a cantankerous mood (he's brain-controlled, remember) and they start to beat on each other for some reason. The fistfight starts out fairly tame, but about twenty seconds in the actor playing the convict lands an inadvertently hard off-script face punch (or maybe deliberate, who knows what went on off-camera) and the actor playing the reporter guy visibly goes nuts and the fight flips instantly from "staged play acting" to "I'm seriously trying to break your face, you rat bastard two-bit talentless hack!". The reporter wins this round and the convict is tied up in a chair until the mind-spell is broken.
Doris is also having a really bad relationship day.
Everyone groups up now and the Professor describes what he saw inside the Martian ship and how he knows that the source of power must be a "self-propagating atomic pile" (one of those four words accurately describes this movie so far...). He's certain that if someone could get back inside and smack that power center with a cricket bat or something they could blow it up, even if that would obviously be a suicide mission. No one else can come up with a better idea so this is the plan they set in motion. As to who will take that swing, it seems that Nyah has decided for them. She reappears now, and announces that reporter guy must come with her. It seems that he traded his own freedom for Kenny's (bad trade!) so by default he's now humankind's last hope.
They just won't stop talking!
Out in the moor, the reporter finally takes some initiative and snatches the robot remote control out of Nyah's hand when she isn't looking (that was easy). Nyah, of course, just brain-freezes him and now she's pretty ticked off at the entire human race (way to go, reporter guy, doomed us all). "Because of this trickery you will all die.", she growls as her robot friend teeters carefully down the ramp. The robot companion to the solo alien visitor thing has been way overdone, even by 1954, and it's always just going to be a rip-off of The Day the Earth Stood Still no matter how you try and change it up. Anyway, if NASA has taught us anything it's that it's always better to send just the robots as invariably the organic component to an invasion force always fails (usually because they fall in love with some Earth girl or catch a cold or something).
The reporter is surprisingly useless in this movie, despite being the "hero".
Nyah returns to the inn to threaten everyone (once again) with violent death before stomping out with an imperious flourish. When she returns, the Professor steps up to offer his services as a Quisling guide to her when she gets to London, hoping that she will take him aboard her ship again so he can blow it up (he's channeling his noble self-sacrificing scientific brethren from nearly every Japanese sci-fi/kaiju movie). The reporter also volunteers to go back with Nyah a second time, though he himself admits that he might very well just go to Mars with her and have alien babies instead of blowing himself up. His honesty is refreshing, but I don't think Nyah is going to give him a second chance after he tried to punk her before.
Besides, the Professor is old and of questionable virility so he's got nothing to lose.
Nyah leaves again (where the heck is she always going off to?) and while they wait for their demise, our characters kill some time and give us some rather unnecessary moments of personal reflection. The Professor goes upstairs to write down what has happened in his journal, scribbling away in a notepad with what my mom tells me is a "pencil" (too bad he doesn't have a wordpress blog). The square-jawed reporter and his increasingly shrill fashion model girlfriend chit chat about love and loss and they finish off their scene with a clutching, mawing, shark-feeding-frenzy slobbery kiss. They don't, however, consummate their love, which is odd as you'd think that if they were going to die anyway, they might as well be humping like drunken teenagers on spring break. People in b-movies never act like real humans.
Give the girl some space, dude.
Eventually Nyah returns from wherever she keeps disappearing to (maybe she's on Pintrest?) and declares that the end is nigh. Taking advantage of everyone else hiding in the basement, the escaped convict, seeking redemption for his sins, volunteers to go with her as her guide (uh, does he even know his way around London?). Nyah agrees and they board the ship, which takes off with a roar and heads away towards London and the eventual conquest of our planet at the hands of a race of horny, fertile women. As it fades into the distance, however, we see it explode in a mushrooming fireball! So clearly the convict decided to sacrifice his own life to save all of humanity, and to a lesser extent his now single girlfriend Doris, who he professed his love for just before leaving (aww...). And with that everyone knocks back some whiskey and shares a laugh as the credits rolls.
Odd that the climax is off-camera, sort of a let-down.
Of course, you have to figure that all this, at most, just bought us a little time. Just like when Wells' tripod Martians regrouped and returned with a vengeance after stocking up on cold medicine, it seems pretty clear that Nyah's fellow Chick Martians will mount a second invasion at some point. If the negative population pressures are as severe as Nyah said, then they would have no choice but to return to Earth to get some more sperm-donors, and this time they might bring the whole Mars Battlefleet. Better yet, they could just up and relocate their entire civilization to the greener pastures of Earth, it's not like we could stop them. Then they could just keep the men as mind-controlled baby-maker sex-slaves and dispose of all the Earth women. Well, except for Ann Curry, of course. She would be their new Queen.
Wait, what the hell is this!?! Goddamn it, Matt Lauer, I told you before, keep your filthy hands off my Ann Curry! I won't tell you again...
So, Pam, what did you think of Devil Girl from Mars? Would you recommend it as a training film for all aspiring alien invaders? Does it offer any tips for those alien civilizations wishing to raid us for breeding stock?
As a matter of fact, I've got several tips for the aspiring breeding stock abductors/world conquerors:
1. Check your "look" before you set out on your mission, and get a makeover if necessary. For Nyah, I would advise, "Miniskirt: great. Cloak: eh, kind of weird but not too bad. Helmet: bad, bad, bad mistake! Patent-leather hair is never good (except on Rudolph Valentino)."
2. Watch the language. "Go out with me or I'll kill you" isn't going to attract quality guys. On the other hand, "There are thousands of Martian women who haven't had sex in years" is virtually guaranteed to get you an enthusiastic response. You may have to bring more spaceships.
3. Lose the robot. Chani may be dear to you, but he's pathetic. If you want a good robot, check out Nate's awesome design.
However, feel free to kidnap all the Kennies you want.
The movie did get Nyah right, though. She's exactly what you'd expect a member of a race that killed off most of its men to be, and her interactions with men fit that picture perfectly.
A final thought: What was with the early 1950s anyway? Where did that "The women hate us all and are out to get us" come from? This was an era where women were forced more relentlessly into the Happy Homemaker role yet given less respect for it than at any other time I can think of. So were movies like this based on the awareness that there had to be a lot of suppressed anger in women? Or since women had filled men's jobs successfully during World War II, was a movie like this an expression of the unspoken male fear that women, and society as a whole, really didn't need men except as sperm donors? And you thought all B-movies were mindless drivel that never made you think.