ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Exploitation-film historian A.C. Nicholas, who has a sketchy background and hails from parts unknown in Western Pennsylvania, was once a drive-in theater projectionist and disk jockey. Currently, in addition to being a writer, editor, podcaster, and voice-over artist, he is a regular guest co-host on the streaming Drive-In Asylum Double Feature and contributes to the Drive-In Asylum fanzine. His upcoming essay “Emanuelle in Disney World and Other Weird Tales of a Trash Film Lover,” detailing bizarre and hilarious stories about midnight movies, grindhouses, and exploitation films, appears in Drive-In Asylum #25.

If ever they gave out awards to films with the most off-the-wall concepts, Director’s Commentary: Terror of Frankenstein would be at the top of the list. Taking a forgotten film version of the novel Frankenstein, co-writer/director Tim Kirk created something that can best be described as “meta layered upon meta.” But then again, Kirk has a history of being involved in bizarre projects. He was producer of Room 237, the nutty documentary purporting to unveil the hidden meaning in Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, as well as producer/co-writer/director of pseudo-documentary Sex Madness Revealed with Patton Oswalt and Rob Zabrecky, and producer of the segment “Q is for Questionnaire” in ABCs of Death 2. Those projects don’t even hint at the lunacy of on display here. I had no clue what to expect.

The film opens on the static DVD menu screen purporting to be for the special edition of Terror of Frankenstein, a Swedish/Irish co-production from 1977, starring Per Oscarsson (The Girl Who Played with Fire), Nicholas Clay (Excalibur), and Leon Vitali (Eyes Wide Shut and Barry Lydon), adapted by Calvin and Yvonne Floyd, and directed by Calvin Floyd (In Search of Dracula). An unseen hand clicks on the menu to scroll through a gallery of a few nondescript photographs that appear to be from the movie’s premiere before turning on the director’s commentary and starting the film.

Up pops the blocky Independent-International logo (which would delight Sam Panico to no end) because Sam Sherman’s company released Terror of Frankenstein in the U.S. And then the commentary track begins. We hear legendary character actor Clu Gulagar (The Return of the Living Dead, Once Upon a Time In…Hollywood and A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge) as “the director” and Zack Norman (Romancing the Stone, Cadillac Man and Chief Zabu) as “the writer.” They explain that Yvonne and Calvin Floyd listed in credits were their pseudonyms.

From the outset, it’s clear that there’s some tension between the two. Those expecting a Mystery Science Theater 3000 or Rifftrax version of the film will be surprised. It’s not. The film soon becomes its own original object. Although there is indeed droll humor sprinkled throughout the commentary—I laughed out loud a lot—there are tidbits dropped about “a trial,” “the execution,” and “those suitcases” to foreshadow that something sinister happened during filming. So what you get is a well-mounted, faithful, though somewhat sluggish, version of Frankenstein with a mysterious commentary track that sounds like an episode of the 1940’s radio show Inner Sanctum.

Getting to the revelation of the meta-plot is the fun here, as Gulager and Norman discuss the production, bicker, joke, weigh the virtues of method acting, and make inside-baseball remarks that are clues for the viewer. Eventually, Leon Vitali, one of the film’s actual stars (see the wonderful documentary, Filmworker, about Vitali’s life as Stanley Kubrick’s buddy and go-to guy), shows up in the last twenty minutes. All is then revealed in an existential ending that I can only describe as Ingmar Bergman meets the Drive-In Asylum Double Feature gang at the Monster-Mania Con. In other words, this is a film made by fans of exploitation films for a small group of select fans who would “get it.”

I enjoyed the experiment Director’s Commentary: Terror of Frankenstein. It’s the weirdest, most original thing that I’ve seen in a long time. It’s funny, intellectual, and completely bonkers in conception and execution. Gulagar, Norman, and Vitali understood the film’s universe perfectly, and the technical team did a fine job of mating their commentary to appropriate action in the film. Bless Tim Kirk and company’s twisted little black hearts. I felt like they made a movie just for me. Discerning cinephiles out there will love it.

The film is available with a subscription to Night Flight Plus. I hear you can also order a DVD by contacting the director from the film’s Facebook page.