May 3, 1962 should be a day to be celebrated. After all, that’s when this movie debuted as a double feature with Invasion of the Animal People, Jerry Warren’s remix of the Swedish movie Space Invasion of Lapland. But here, in this film, it’s all Jerry: directing, writing, producing and editing. What did people feel when they crawled into the light from a dark theater or drove away from a drive-in? Were they astounded? Did they feel like someone had smacked them in the head with a rock? I wish I could have been there and seen normal people confronted by the magic that is Jerry Warren.

While his peers like Roger Corman were busy filming scenes, Jerry was the king of the buy-and-fix-it-up special. Usually, that meant taking a moody Swedish thriller or a Mexican horror flick, hacking out the plot and dubbing in dialogue that didn’t match the lip movements. But with 1962’s Terror of the Bloodhunters, Jerry actually stepped behind the camera to give us a Southern California pretending to be South America classic.

Our story kicks off with a great escape. A group of prisoners decides that a French penal colony isn’t exactly a five-star resort and makes a break for the dense South American brush. Because no B-movie escape is complete without a hostage, they snag the commandant’s daughter, Marlene (Dorothy Haney). From there, it’s a grueling hike through the Amazon by way of Griffith Park, where they face bug bites, humidity and the realization that their wardrobe wasn’t picked for hiking.

As this is a Warren movie, you should expect a generous helping of stock footage, including snakes, lizards and birds that clearly aren’t in the same zip code as the actors. And yes, there are actually cannibals.

If you’ve seen Warren’s other work, like The Wild World of Batwoman, you know one of his defining stylistic tools: The Long Pause. He loves a static shot where characters stare into the middle distance, perhaps contemplating their life choices or waiting for the craft services truck.

However, Terror of the Bloodhunters is often cited by the cult-cinema faithful as one of his better efforts. Why? Because it actually sticks to a coherent narrative. Starring Robert Clarke, a guy who survived both The Hideous Sun Demon and The Astounding She-Monster, the film has a professional anchor that keeps it from drifting entirely into the abyss of boredom. Clarke brings a level of sincerity to the role of Steve Mallory that the script probably didn’t deserve.

Plus, because it’s barely an hour, it doesn’t overstay its welcome. It gets you in, shows you some tribal spears and stock crocodiles, and gets you out. It’s not exactly Fitzcarraldo, but if you have a soft spot for grainy black-and-white foliage and guys in khakis shouting at the treeline, this is for you.

You can watch it on Cultpix.