Exploring: Actress Sherry Miles of The Velvet Vampire fame

A Harlequin for my heart: Image courtesy of Sherry E. DeBoer via her IMDb page from a “Teen” magazine photo shoot.

Well, you know how the VCRs roll at B&S About Movies . . . where a review of Peter Carpenter’s Point of Terror, as well as Blood Mania, leads to a reader inquiry and discussion on whatever happened ever happened to Pete . . . which inspires a two-fer review of Vixen! and Love Me Like I Do to finish off his all-too-slight resume. And those discussion about Pete left us wondering . . . “What ever happened to Gene Shane from Werewolves on Wheels and The Velvet Vampire?”

Well, as you know, we solved “The Case of Peter Carpenter” with that said, two-fer review, and we peeled away at the onion that is “The Mystery of Gene Shane” watering our eyes with our review of The Velvet Vampire. Luckily — because we are so exhausted from those two crazed investigations of our favorite actors of yore — “The Case of Sherry Miles,” now known as DeBoer, is more easier slice and diced, thanks to her involvement in her own IMDb page, along with the many, loyal websites* dedicated to all things Hee Haw (an old “Kornfield Kountry” TV series that aired on CBS in the ’60s).

So, let’s pay tribute to one of our favorite — and missed — actress of the ’60s and ’70s.

Sherry Miles, top right, on Hee Haw. Yes, that’s Barbie Benton (Deathstalker, Hospital Massacre), bottom left/courtesy of Worthpoint.
What might have been: Sherry won — then lost — the role of Bobbie to Ann-Margret in Mike Nichols’s Carnal Knowledge (1971) — which also starred the equally burgeoning Jack Nicholson and Candace Bergen. Image courtesy of the Sherry E. DeBoer Archives, via IMDb.

That Teen modeling spread we used for our banner, above, soon transitioned Sherry into an acting career, which began with the pre-Gilligan’s Island Bob Denver series The Good Guys (1969), an early Aaron Spelling series, the counterculture sci-fi drama, The New People (1969), and Medical Center (1969) starring Chad Everett (The Intruder Within). Sherry’s other, early ’70s appearances included the popular series Mod Squad, Nanny and the Professor, Pat Paulsen’s Half a Comedy Hour, The Name of the Game, The High Chaparral, The Beverly Hillbillies, Adam 12, Love American Style, and The Partridge Family (Sherry over Susan Dey, every day of the week — and twice on Sundays!). As we crossed the nation’s bicentennial, Sherry appeared on the popular series Baretta with Robert Blake (Corky), Police Woman with Angie Dickinson (Big Bad Mama), Richie Brockelman, Private Eye with future director Dennis Dugan (Love, Weddings & Other Disasters), and Wonder Woman with Lynda Carter (Bobbi Joe and the Outlaw). And let’s not forget Sherry’s 26-episode run as part of the comedy ensemble on the homegrown variety show Hee Haw* during its 1971 to 1972 season.

A one-time heiress to the Hawaii-based Long’s Drug Store chain (now owned and operated by CVS since 2008; I’m in there, often), Sherry Miles got married, became a DeBoer, and retired from the business after her final, on-camera appearance during the third season of Wonder Woman. Since her retirement, she’s become a long-respected animal rights activist.

Adorable. Sherry in 1969 on Pat Paulsen’s Half a Comedy Hour/Walt Disney Television.

Some of Sherry’s films you may not know. Others you have seen. And, hopefully, after this “Exploring” feature, you’ll search out the others. But you’ll surely revisit with Sherry in everyone’s favorite film of her career: The Velvet Vampire, a film so gosh-darn fine that, no offense to Sherry, intended: even if she weren’t in it . . . basically, we’re telling you to put The Velvet Vampire on your must-watch list, unintended insults to Sherry, be damned.

Okay, let’s unpack Sherry’s all-too-brief, big screen career, shall we?


Cry For Poor Wally (1969)

Everything . . . ended up on VHS in the ’80s. Everything.

Russell Johnson (the Professor of Gilligan’s Island fame) stars as the small town sheriff in this “based on a true story” crime-drama filmed in Dallas, Texas. Johnson confronts Wally (a very good Keith Rothschild in his only film role; Johnson is equally fine): a fugitive on the run who takes a woman hostage in a diner with the goal of staying out of prison — no matter the cost. As Johnson tries to talk down Wally, the story flashes back as to the “why” it all happened: upon the death of his mother, his father leaves (abandons) him for greener pastures; his girlfriend (Sherry Miles) also contributes to his psychotic break.

Keep your eyes open for another slight-resume actress in Barbara Hancock, who we enjoyed in her fourth and final film, the “GP” horror film, The Night God Screamed (1972). In addition to Russell and Sherry, this is packed with a great cast of familiar character actors of the you-know-them-when-you-see-them variety of Elisha Cook, Jr., Bill Thurman (!) ,Gene Ross, and Paul Lambert.

Cry for Poor Wally proved to be the only producing and directing effort by Marty Young. Screenwriter Marshall Riggan followed with the Christian apocalypse drama Six-Hundred & Sixty Six (1972) and completed his features career with the lost, psychological horror, So Sad About Gloria (1973).

There’s a copy on the Internet Archive to stream. There’s also a ten-minute highlight reel — of its opening diner scene — courtesy of our friends at Scarecrow Video on You Tube, who also contributed the film’s full-digitized upload to the IA.

The Phynx (1970)

To say Sam and I love this movie — Sherry’s presence, aside — is a well-worn trope.

The Phynx are a manufactured band — kind of like the Monkees meets Stripes — made up of A. “Michael” Miller, Ray Chipperway, Dennis Larden and Lonny Stevens. They’re trained in all manner of espionage, as well as rock ‘n roll, including meeting Dick Clark, record industry-emissary James Brown, and being taught how to have some “soul” by Richard Pryor. Hey, wait a sec . . . didn’t Cliff Richards and the Shadows do the “spy rock” thing in Finders Keepers (1966)?

At once an indictment of the system and the product of the very hand that it is biting, The Phynx occupies the same weird space as Skidoo, i.e., big-budget Hollywood films trying desperately — and failing — to reach the long-haired hippy audience — like the Monkees with Head — yet failing to understand them at any level. Sort of like the next film on today’s program.

Since this is locked up in the Warner Archive, there’s no streams to share, but here’s a clip on You Tube.

Making It (1971)

Ugh. The marketing of movies.

Based on the theatrical one-sheet and the R-rating, you’re expecting a soft-core sexploitationer: you actually end up with a not-so-bad, smart “coming of age” teen dramedy. As it should be: it’s written by Peter Bart (for 20th Century Fox), who you known best as the co-host, with film executive Peter Guber, of AMC’s film talk and interview programs Shootout and Storymakers, as well as Encore’s In the House. True movieheads known, that, after his screenwriting career, Bart was a writer at the New York Times, an Editor-In Chief at Variety, and later a Vice President of Production at Paramount Studios. While serving as the screenwriting debut for Bart, Making It was also the feature film debut for longtime TV director John Erman (Outer Limits, My Favorite Martian, Star Trek: TOS); continuing with TV series, Erman directed numerous TV movies into the early-2000s.

While Sherry Miles is what brought us here: we’re also captivated by a cast that features early roles for the familiar Bob Balaban (made his debut in in the iconic Midnight Cowboy), David Doyle (yep, Bosley from TV’s Charlie’s Angels), character actor extraordinaire John Fiedler, Denny Miller, Lawrence Pressman, and Tom Troupe, along with the brother-sister thespian duo of Dick and Joyce Van Patten.

Based on the ’60s best-seller, What Can You Do?, a very young Kristoffer Tabori (later of Brave New World and a Star Wars video game voice artist) stars as Phil Fuller: a 17-year-old ne’er-do-well clone of David Cassidy (who would have been perfect in the “grown up” role) living with his widowed mother (Joyce Van Patten). He quenches his self-centered needs by using the girls in his school (prom queen, Sherry Miles), his nerdy best friend (a very young Bob Balaban), and his basketball coach (Denny Miller) — by taking up with his wife (Marlyn Mason). Meanwhile, Joyce Van has or own sexual issues: she’s facing the thoughts of an abortion after shacking up with an insurance agent (played by her brother!). Then Phil, himself, deals with the issues of abortion when he gets one of his high school-conquests, pregnant.

In the end, what you get in the frames of Making It is not a sexploitation comedy, or even a “coming of age” dramedy, but an insightful examination of a pre-Roe vs. Wade world regarding the legalities surrounding abortions (then illegal in California, where this takes place, but legal in New York, where a Patten’s character considers going to get one).

It’s pretty heavy stuff of a time and place, but without the favorable atmosphere of Fast Times of Ridgemont High — if that film centered soley on Mike Damone knocking up Stacy Hamilton. My youthful nostalgia for movies like this slide in nicely next to an early Sam Elliot in Lifeguard, Dennis Christopher in California Dreaming, and the genre change-up with Cathy Lee Crosby in Coach. Your own nostalgia mileage — and for all films Sherry Miles — may vary.

No streams to share, but here’s the trailer.

The Velvet Vampire (1971)

My enjoyment of this movie, which serves as the suffix-title to this retrospective on Sherry Miles, is unbound. Sherry is not only stellar in it: so is the cast, under the pen and lens of Stephanie Rothman. Simply put: this is a beautiful, creepy film.

Swinging Lee Ritter and his vapid, but pretty wife, Susan (Sherry Miles), make the mistake of accepting the art gallery invitation of a mysterious, red-dressed vixen, Diane LeFanu (Celeste Yarnall), to visit her secluded, desert estate. The couple soon discover Diane is a centuries-old vampire — and both are objects of her bisexual thirsts.

The Todd Killings (1971)

Also known as Maniac in the VHS ’80s.

Fans of the based-in-fact teen murder tale of River’s Edge (marketed on the later VHS “slasher” reissues as Maniac; it’s why we rented it) will enjoy Sherry Miles’s second — after Cry for Poor Wally — true crime drama, this one based on the true story of ’60s thrill-killer Charles Schmid, known as “The Pied Piper of Tuscon.”

The film was inspired by a March 1966 Life magazine article about the killings, which, in turn, inspired the 1966 short anthology story “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” Schmid’s exploits were also loosely adapted into the Treat Williams-starring Smooth Talk (1985), as well as the (woefully inferior) films Dead Beat (1994) and The Lost (2005).

Skipper Todd (an outstanding Robert F. Lyons, a much-seen ’60s TV actor in his fourth feature film, but first starring role) is a charismatic, 23-year old ne’er-do-well who charms his way into the lives of out-of-his-age-bracket high school kids in a small California town. The girls, of course, fall instantly for him and head out to the desert for some romantic fun — only never to return. As in the true crimes that inspired River’s Edge, Todd, aka Schmid, was assisted by his girlfriend and best friend in luring, killing, and burying the victims. Shocking for its time, Belinda J. Montgomery and Richard Thomas are frontal nude; Montgomery’s is cut from the later VHS versions.

As with Cry for Poor Wally, this is another one of those lost, underrated gems — it’s heartbreaking for all concerned, even the beyond salvation Skipper Todd — of the Drive-In era rediscovered, not during the UHF-TV ’70s, but the home video ’80s. The quality comes courtesy of its familiar cast of a just-starting-out Richard Thomas (as Skipper’s loyal hanger-on buddy), along with Edward Asner, Barbara Bel Geddes, James Broderick, Michael Conrad (remember the gruff commander on Hill Street Blues?) Gloria Grahame, and Fay Spain. Also keep your eyes open for musician-actress Holly Near in her third role; she made her debut in the critically lambasted Angel, Angel Down We Go (1969).

There’s no trailers or streams to share — well, there’s a You Tube Italian-dub to skim — but the DVDs abound in the online marketplace. This is a great film. It’s also a nihilistic, downbeat one, but still worthy of a watch.

Calliope (1971)

The new and improved Calliope.

“Spoofs today’s sex films (i.e., porn) the way Batman spoofed Super Heroes!”
— tagline for the original, first release of Calliope

I just can’t see my dearest Sherry signing on the dotted line for a goofy, post-Russ Meyer wannabe skinflick that proclaims: “It spreads, and spreads, and spreads,” only to equate its comedy to a beloved Adam West TV series. Obviously, what was presented during negotiations to Sherry, and what was distributed to theaters, differed. Wildly. But what else should we have expected from writer-director Matt Climber, he who gave us The Black Six (1973), Pia Zadora in Butterfly (1981), and a sex-bent take on Indiana Jones with Yellow Hair and the Fortress of Gold (1984)?

Well, this movie. That’s what. And this one is truly a lost film.

So much for producing an Americanized remake of the significant and cinematically-respected La Ronde (1950), a 1900s-era, spicy-romantic, French-language comedy by German-born director Max Ophüls, which earned a 1952 “Best Screenplay” Oscar nod. He also repeated that Oscar feat with his next film, Le Plaisir (1952), which earned a 1955 nod for its Art Direction, done by Max, himself. So loved was La Ronde in its homeland, as well as across Europe, Roger Vadim (Barbarella) updated the film as Circle of Love (1964), with his soon-to-be lover, Jane Fonda. As for the Ophüls original: it took four years before U.S. film sensors approved the film, sans cuts, for theater showings in 1954.

As for the U.S. remake, originally released under the title, Calliope, what could go wrong: everything. Didn’t you hear the sound of two-time Oscar-nominated Max Ophüls turning over in his grave?

Both films are concerned with ten people “in various episodes in the endless waltz of love” (they go “round and round,” thus the titles), as they each hop from encounter to encounter . . . and that’s were it all stops. Dead.

Since Americans were still swingin’ from the free-loving, Summer of Love ’60s, and Mike Nichols answered the “sex revolution” charge with the aforementioned Carnal Knowledge (1971) (and Paul Mazursky’s 1969 effort, Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice), Allied Artists (an outgrowth of Monogram Pictures, a library now owned-split among Warner Bros., Metro-Goldwyn-Mayor, and Paramount; Warner owns Calliope) decided that, instead of the main protagonist (now a hippie musician instead of soldier-on-leave) eventually finding love with the partner he started off with (Sherry Miles, now a band groupie, instead of the original’s prostitute) . . . he receives “the gift that goes on giving”: a sexually transmitted disease, i.e., venereal disease, since this was the ’70s and not the AIDS ’80s.

Yuk Yuk.

Calliope (no theatrical one-sheets exist, at least online), needless to say, bombed. Ah, but the “Golden Age of Porn” was in full swing, so Allied Artists didn’t give up: a year later, in 1972, the reimaged Love Is Catching hit the circuit; it opened in, of all places, the home base of B&S About Movies: Pittsburgh. It bombed, again, and harder than a Richard Harrison Philippine film he was edited-into and never signed on to do.

This soft-sexploitation romp causes me to reflex on poor Gerald McRaney and Tom Selleck, each scoring their first major roles in Night of Bloody Horror and Daughters of Satan, respectively. The scripts are pretty good . . . and work is work . . . and they thesp’d up a sweat to make it all work . . . then J.N Houck, Jr., and worse, in Tom Selleck’s case, since U.S. major, United Artists, backed it, cheesed the films with exploitative ad campaigns. Just like Calliope. And Skidoo. And Myra Breckinridge.

Sherry, six films in to her career, and just missing out on a co-starring role with Jack Nicholson in one of Mike Nichols best films — a frank, adult-discussion of modern-day sexual issues — was deserving of a better, leading lady role than this STD sex farce.

Sure, it’s a well-shot picture, and the acting is pretty decent (we have great character actors Marjorie Bennett and Stan Rose, on board). And it’s not all that bad; sure, modernizing from the early 1900s to the late 1960s is inspired. And it’s not at all porny, since the sex scenes are implied, more than shown . . . but I still have this need to go back in time and kick someone . . . for having my sweet Sherry transmitting VD in a movie.

But things are looking up, nicely, with our next feature.

The Ballad of Billie Blue (1972)

Also known as Starcrossed Road on ’80s VHS shelves.

From a sexploitation flick to a Christian cinema obscurity: only in Tinseltown, baby. And while his name is nixed from the one-sheet (whatever, Plekker, nice n’ cheesy paste-up work): the writer-director here is Ken Osborne, the man behind the pen and lens on the biker flick Wild Wheels (1969). He also appeared in our Uncle Al Adamson’s Blood of Dracula’s Castle (1969), Five Bloody Graves (1969), and Hell’s Bloody Devils (1970).

And there’s more!

In addition to Sherry Miles, we have Marty Allen and Eric Estrada? Ray Danton (too many ’60s to ’70s TV series to mention)? Bruce Kimball (Rollercoaster)? Where’s the VCR. Load the tape. LOAD THE TAPE!

The pedigree is the thing in this imperiled-musician-in-a-spiritual-crisis tale, not only with our director, Ken Osborne: the scribe behind this Christploitationer, Ralph Luce, also wrote Wild Wheels. Why, yes, that’s Robert Dix and William Kerwin from Satan’s Sadists, and Herschell Gordon Lewis’s Blood Feast, respectively, in the cast, as well as, again, a very youthful, pre-CHiPs Erik Estrada. And we mention Erik a second time, since this second film in his career was also his second Christploiter. The first was The Cross and the Switchblade, which starred ’60s crooner Pat Boone, as directed by Don Murray (Conquest of the Planet of the Apes).

The Ballad of Billie Blue is the tale of a drug-and-boozed out country music star — our faux-message “Jesus Christ” of the proceedings — sent to prison, aka Hell, on a bum murder rap; he finds God by way of a prison preacher and a Christ-following country music star.

Regardless of its secular, exploitative pedigree, this was Rated-G — and it ran as a “Special Church Benefit” in rural theaters, as well as in churches and tent revivals. Granted it’s no country-cautionary tale in the vein of A Star Is Born (1976) with Kris Kristofferson, but it’s not a total disaster.

You can watch this on You Tube.

Your Three Minutes Are Up (1973)

I still say the Oscar-winning dramedy Sideways (2004) starring Paul Giamatti (in the Beau Bridges role) and Thomas Haden Church (in the Rob Liebman role) stole this movie lock, stock, and wine bottle. But I digress. . . .

So . . . the ’70s and their slew of ne’er-do-well “buddy films” were entertaining times, with the likes of Midnight Cowboy (1969), starring Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman, Busting (1974), with Elliott Gould and Robert Blake, Freebie and the Bean (1974), starring Alan Arkin and James Caan, and Let’s Do It Again (1975), with Bill Cosby and Sidney Poitier.

My old Pop loved his “buddy films,” so you didn’t have to sell us twice — especially when the buddies are Beau Bridges and Ron Liebman. And we ain’t hatin’ Janet Margolin in the frames, either. Mom and Pop dumped me at the sitter to see this back when; I watched it later, amid the ultra-high frequency haze of my pre-cable TV youth. All, of course, were rented, again, when they hit home video.

Oh, and speaking of Sideways: this isn’t just a buddy film. You know all of those Judd Apatow, gross-out “road movies” you love: this is where that road, began. Only without any of the Paul Rudd or Seth Rogen annoyance aftertaste.

Charlie (a perfectly cast Beau Bridges) is a henpecked office drone-doormat at a dead-end job, engaged to harping woman (Janet Margolin, Planet Earth). The lone spark in his life is his “idol,” Mike (an even more perfectly cast Rob Liebman), a narcissistic and misogynistic, well, dickhead, of a buddy. So, to get Charlie out from under his soon-to-be-loveless marriage — and his own, mounting debts and his recently cut-off unemployment benefits — the pair hits the roads of the California coast on Mike’s last two, usable credit cards, subsidized by a little bit of larceny. Along the way, the pick up two, nubile hippie chicks (in the expertly cast) June Fairchild (Up In Smoke) and Sherry Miles.

So, somewhere in the frames is a message about America’s newfound “liberation” forged in the ’60s (more effectively done with Beau’s brother, Jeff, in 1974’s Thunderbolt and Lightfoot), but while this warms the ol’ UHF-TV cockles of watching it with ol’ Pop all those years ago, Your Three Minutes Are Up is an erratic, rambling TV movie-flat messadventure that could have easily went the bloody-serial killer route — if not for its purposeful, comedic slant. Think Easy Rider sans the drugs and bikes, or Five Easy Pieces with Liebman as our ersatz Jack Nicholson, and you’re on the right road in this still, effectively cast and well-acted adventure.

You can watch the trailer and full film on You Tube.

Harrad Summer (1974)

Look, Steven Hilliard Stern (The Park Is Mine) is directing . . . so what’s not to like, here?

Well, uh, not much, in this woefully dated “sex revolution” tale that sequels the box office hit, The Harrad Experiment (1973), which grossed $3 million against $400,000.

So, why did this sure-fire hit, flop?

Well, the character of James Whitmore (Brooks Hatlen in The Shawshank Redemption) doesn’t return. Tippi Hedren’s does, but is replaced by a lookalike in Emmaline Henry (Ms Amanda Bellows from TV’s I Dream of Jeannie). And Don Johnson and Bruno Kirby bowed out. Sure, Laurie Walters (Warlock Moon; later TV’s Eight Is Enough), who made her acting debut in the original, is back, and so is bit TV actress Victoria Thompson, but who is coming to see either? And we want more Sherry Miles, thank you.

Note to executives: When you loose three quarters of your cast, don’t make the sequel.

Anyway, the premise is that faux-Stanley and Harry, along with real-Sheila and Beth, are out on summer break from their first year at Harrad College: it’s time to test their new found sexual freedom in the real world. Or something. Like going back and re-watching Bob & Ted & Carol & Alice and Carnal Knowledge.

Hey, I champion Stern’s TV work just as much as my fellow fan of the VHS obscure, but this is simply yawn-inducing . . . .the total opposite of The Harrad Experiment, which has Don and Bruno — especially Bruno — going for it. Robert Reiser and Richard Doran in their places, well . . . they’re not awful: they just don’t have the same spunk to make the hippie proceedings, hep.

No streams, but the DVDs are out there; here’s the trailer.

The Pack (1977)

Okay. So, the heart breaker and dream maker of my wee-lad years, Sherry Miles, closes out her career by running around an island with Joe Don Baker to escape a pack of wild dogs . . . get this: under the lens of Robert Clouse of Enter the Dragon, Black Belt Jones, and Golden Needles fame?

Load. The. Tape. Now.

Sure, this beat Stephen’s King’s Cujo to theaters and was all about a literal army of dogs biting everyone on Seal Island — which has nothing on Dog Island from Humongous. So, was Robert Clouse inspired by the 1976 film starring David McCallum that you don’t want to confuse with The Pack, aka Dogs? Probably. No, not Devil Dog: Hound of Hell (1978), as that one starred Richard Crenna. Get your horror dog movies, straight, buddy! Did Clouse’s dog romp inspire Earl Owensby’s (Dark Sunday) backwater sheriff fighting off government-bred mutts in Dogs of Hell (1983)? Probably.

What else can we say: it’s a killer dog movie. Not even Sherry’s presence can save it. But horror was hot and, as an actor, you jump the trend and hope for a hit. Well, it is to us, at B&S About Movies. We’re weird that way.

There’s no freebie streams, but the PPVs are out there; here’s the trailer.


The blue eyes and crooked smile that launched a thousand ships: Sherry, in her final role for an episode of TV’s Wonder Woman. Imagine Sherry going “Scream Queen” and dominating the Slasher ’80s . . . what might have been.

So wraps this latest “Exploring” featuring, this one on (sigh . . . skyrockets . . . rainbows . . . fields of flowers . . . hearts with angel wings) Sherry Miles. Be sure to click the “Exploring” tag below to read the full list of all of our “Exploring” features on the lost, forgotten and awesome actors and directors, as well as genres, of the Drive-In ’60s, the UHF-TV ’70s, and VHS ’80s eras.

Yeah, we’re doin’ it for the celluloid love. And because we’re just crazy that way. This is B&S About Movies, after all.

* Learn more about Hee Haw at this Alchetron.com fan site.

Some of our other actor and director career explorations include:

Exploring: Eddie Van Halen on Film
Exploring: The Movies of Don Kirshner
Exploring: The Films of (the late) Tawny Kitaen
Exploring: The Films of Ukrainian Model Maria Konstantynova
Exploring: SOV ’80s Director Jon McBride
Exploring: Elvis Presley-inspired Fantasy Flicks
Exploring: Sylvester Stallone: 45 Years After Rocky
Exploring: The 8 Films of Quentin Tarantino’s Rolling Thunder Pictures

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

MILL CREEK DRIVE-IN MOVIE CLASSICS: Throw Out the Anchor (1974)

The beauty of the Mill Creek box set is discovering a movie that you would otherwise never find.

The terror of a Mill Creek box set is discovering a movie that you would otherwise never find.

Throw Out the Anchor claims that it’s a comedy. It strains the very notions of what comedy is, let me tell you that much.

It’s about an unemployed widower who heads to Florida with his children for a vacation on a houseboat, but they get there and, comedy situation after his wife dies and he loses his job, there was never any boat at all.

Director John Hugh directed one movie and if you ask me, it was more than enough. A G-rated comedy from 1974 is my idea of a horror movie, all earnest and dry and poorly realized. But even worse, this is a message movie, as when the family finally gets a broken down boat, fixes it up and sets sail, the water is all polluted. Everyone laugh!

When I was eight years old, Jerry Lewis made a big return to America’s movie theaters with Hardly Working, a film that starts with a montage of his greatest hits and the entire theater went wild with laughter. After a decade away — and unbeknownst to young Sam, most of it spent on the Day the Clown Cried — Lewis was back, baby! And then the movie started, a film that ran out of money numerous times, had a depressed star and barely held together and it just started grinding. People started audibly sighing in the theater and as a young kid, I learned the lesson, the horrifying lesson, that movies can suck. They can just be so bad and this movie became the opposite of a comedy, it was a tragedy and each action that Lewis’ clown character undertook and each job that he got fired from — people in my small mill town did not want to be reminded of being fired in 1980 — just kept strangling the air and the funny out of every person in the theater until we left, shambling messes blinded by the mid-day sun, unsure of what we’d seen and realizing that each of us would carry some part of the ennui of that film with us until we died alone.

This movie doesn’t even get to have the montage at the beginning.

Invasion from Inner Earth (1974)

“This is as pointless and purposeless as Peter Fonda’s Idaho Transfer of 1973. A better soundtrack would help. And throw in A PLOT as well.”
— A well-said comment by You Tuber Lee Larson on the film’s upload


So, after Monster a Go-Go in 1965, producer, writer and director Bill Rebane took a decade-long break.

He should have stayed on break.

I have a feeling Bill Van Ryn of Drive-In Asylum and Groovy Doom loves this; movies where “nothing happens” is his groove. Well, groove on, Billy. Groove on. No polyester jackets required.

So there’s no questioning — regardless of the VHS and DVD reissues and box-set repacks — as to when this was made: Yes. this is a real, ’60s to ’70s era radio studio. Yes. That is a (blue) ashtray, to your left, as smoking in radio studios was oh, so 1970s.

Anyway . . . Bill Rebane came back with a vengeance in this, his second feature film, with plot points he later recycled into his follow up non-epics The Giant Spider Invasion (1975) and The Alpha Incident (1978; part of Mill Creek’s Chilling Classics box set) — the former which actually received a wide spread theatrical release and screened at my local duplex because, well, because Alan Hale, Jr. — yes, the Skipper from TV’s Gilligan’s Island — and Barbara Hale — yes, the Della Street, the long-time secretary to TV’s Perry Mason — still had some UHF-TV rerun stank on them to get us, i.e., sucker us, through the doors. We knew enough to avoid The Alpha Incident until it appeared as a late night UHF-TV’er, since a washed up Ralph Meeker (who acted alongside Charlton Heston at Northwestern University) and George “Buck” Flowers didn’t have any iconic TV stank on them to get us into the doors.

No, the proceedings on either of those films got any better nor improved on their earlier Invasion from Inner Earth model. Yes, if you’ve seen The Alpha Incident, you’ve seen this, and vise versa. In fact: the same thing happens in Rebane’s The Capture of Bigfoot (1979; back to nobody-never-heard-of actors, natch), only a bigfoot — not connected to aliens — is responsible for the mystery. Oh, and nothing comes from “in” the Earth; the “it” comes from outer space. So, leave your zombie hopes on the deep woods’ cabin porch, Cletus.

What else should we expect from the guy who decided putting a ukelele-playing Tiny Tim (a huge, but very odd ’60s celebrity, Wiki him) in a slasher film with Blood Harvest (1987) was a good idea. Lest not we forget Rebane’s haunted piano romp with The Demons of Ludlow (1983). Did we forget his Loch Ness mess with Rana: The Legend of Shadow Lake (1981), and his millionaires trap people in a mansion comedy, The Game (1984)?

Yes. On purpose.

Hey, we’ll remember Rebane’s production of The Devonsville Terror (1983) because a film directed by Ulli Lommel starring his wife Suzanna Love, along with Donald “I’ll take anything” Pleasence, along with Robert Walker, Jr. and character-actor extraordinaire Paul Wilson isn’t a film you question: you watch. Oh, and Twister’s Revenge! (1988; part of this month’s Mill Creek Drive-In Classics review blow out) . . . that epic isn’t about killer weather: it’s a comedy about a computerized, Knight Rider-esque monster truck. No really. Do we want to find a copy of his paranormal “trip to the other side” romp that is his final film, Ghostly Obsessions (2004)? Do we, really? Do we? DO YOU?

Uh, no. . . ?

There’s no zombies here. Just aliens. Move along, you Romero vagabond.

Well, there you have it, then. So goes the mind of the pride of Riga, Latvia, in this grafting of The Thing (the original, not the remake) onto Raimi’s later The Evil Dead. Only not as good — not even close — to either, is what is sorta-kinda is happening here. In fact, instead of “The Thing,” this was also called They in some distribution quarters — not to be confused with the James Whitmore-starring Them!, which is about giant ants . . . that actually do come from inner earth.

Look, an Ed Woodian flying saucer arrives at Earth. Then planes crash. Cars stall. The UFO crashes in a swamp, and spews a red gas (fuel?) that infects the town. Wait, was it an alien “bomb” of some sort? (It’s not clear and I don’t care.) Uh, so, people get sick and die . . . the infection spreads and, before you know it: a plague has wiped out the planet and an alien invasion is at hand.

Anyway, since planes can’t fly anymore (a guy steals a plane and tries to escape; it crashes), four Canadian bush pilots hold up in a better-than-Raimi-dump-of-a cabin (but we are actually in Wisconsin, U.S.A. where Rebane shot all of his films) to wait out the invasion . . . or whatever the hell is going on, here.

Really? 100 minutes? I think I watched maybe 10 seconds, let alone ten minutes.

Oh, wait something is going on here. It’s just not all exactly clear, because the-ac-tor-re-ads-in-this-fi-lm-dr-i-ve-yo-u-to-no-t-li-sten-to-the-bug-e-tary move-the-non-plot exposition.

There’s junk science babbling about Mars and the Earth were once closer to each other than the Earth and the moon are now. And something about the planet alignments (oh, no, not more “Jupiter Effect” preambles). And about the Comet Kohoutek (discovered in 1973). And electromagnetic fields. And the inhabitants of Mars escaping their planet’s destruction. And the Holy Bible’s 7th seal. And something about a giant, immense rose. And Florida rising out of the ocean. And a newscast telling us about “worldwide UFO sightings and mass illness.” And an interview with a hick who claims he was “abducted by aliens from Uranus.” And, apparently, the “they” are from Uranus, as a TV broadcast — suddenly — is knocked off the air. “Something is blocking our transmission,” we’re told. Boy Howdy! And I thought the Georgia-made UFO: Target Earth (1974) piled on the Jesus-comet-aligned planets plot absurdities. Well, at least it’s not as inept as the Colorado-made The Spirits of Jupiter (1984). Or is it?

Yeah, for this is just a bunch of people walking around in the snow collecting firewood, riding snow mobiles, making campfires and talking-in-staccato because they-are-acting!

The excessive coffee drinking and cigarette smoking continues in Rebane’s 1978 outer space epic, The Alpha Incident, available on the Nightmare Worlds box set, in addition to their Chilling Classics set.

Oy! The bad acting.

The no-effects — expect for the red smoke bomb in the swamp. An annoying, all-too-loud, bonkers soundtrack stock-stolen from Lord knows where, that goes to-and-fro from electronic nausea, to folk guitar, to ragtime band clarinets. And not once — not once — is there any indication the aliens are, say, Atlantians, rising up from inside the Earth. And when the aliens do show up (or was that their spaceships; don’t know, don’t care), it’s a swatch of red cellophane (rubberbanded) over a flashlight because, well, remember the red smoke bombs? Oh, and radios make sounds, we are told, “that’s not the radio” . . . so, er, that must be the aliens, talking, or something?

You can watch Invasion from Inner Earth for free — don’t you dare pay a dime for this one — on You Tube. However, if you’d like a bargain-priced version for your collection, you can have it as part of Mill Creek’s Nightmare Worlds 50-Film Pack/IMDb alongside UFO: Target Earth and Alien Species — both which we also reviewed this week, so look for ’em!

Scoff we may, but we love Rebane so much, we reviewed this once more as we cracked open the entire box and reviewed all 50 films! Hello, Wisconsin!

Get your copy! Image courtesy of JohnGrit/Unisquare.

Ugh. The You Tube trailers we embed for your enjoyment keep being deleted.
We give up! Search for ’em on You Tube.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

UFO: Target Earth (1974)

Editor’s Note, May 2022. This film is currently being restored for an official 2023 release from Gila Films. Information on that release, to follow. Now here’s our review from November of last year as result of our annual, November unpacking of a Mill Creek 50-film pack box set.


“And they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation.”
— Revelations 5:9, from the film’s ending title card, because mixing aliens with the bible was a hot ticket in the 1970s

The 1974 theatrical one-sheet.

Ancient Astronauts on Film

It all began with the 1970 film adaptation of the same name of Erich von Däniken’s 1968 worldwide best-seller Chariots of the Gods? — one that grossed $26 million in U.S. box office alone, and received an Academy Award nomination for best documentary feature.

The documentaries, as well as fictional movies — long before Close Encounters of the Third Kind came on the scene — were thou art loosed.

Rod Serling pulled a narration paycheck with In Search of Ancient Astronauts, In Search of Ancient Mysteries, and The Outer Space Connection (all 1973) for Sunn Classics; he also lamented about all sorts of weirdness with Encounter with the Unknown (1973). American National Enterprises gave us Mysteries from Beyond Planet Earth (1975). G. Brook Stanford, one the world’s earliest UFO journalists (or “saucerians” as they preferred), used his own book, Space-Craft from Beyond Three Dimensions (1959) to make his own Schick-Sunn Classics-styled document with Overlords of the U.F.O (1976). Film Ventures International jumped into the fray with The Force Beyond (1978). Then, Jack Palance and William Shatner, respectively, earned paychecks hosting the films The Unknown Force (1977), which tossed in psychics, miracle healers, and Man’s and the Earth’s untapped energies, while Bill got into the ancient-biblical astronauts game with Mysteries of the Gods (1977).

While it didn’t speak of aliens, Sunn Classics jumped in the deep end of the pool with In Search of Noah’s Ark (1976) and the “science” of Christianity with Beyond and Back (1978). Knowing that, if people were into biblical arks, they’d want a movie about the Son of Man, too, so they gave us In Search of Historic Jesus (1979), as well as movies about the alien-infested The Bermuda Triangle (1979), and the predictions of the end of man by Nostradamus with The Man Who Saw Tomorrow (1981).

Of course, when documentary-reenactment films — which, in a way, UFO: Target Earth is — began to fizzle in the Lucasian ripples, out came the-very-on-the-cheap Star Wars ripoffs from Sunn Classics, by way of the VHS-rental cousin Starship Invasions (1977) starring Robert Vaughn battling Christopher Lee: he in a black Gumby suit as the alien leader of an underwater pyramid base in the Bermuda Triangle. Both actors returned in Hangar 18 (1980) and End of the World (1977), respectively, with Lee in the latter as an alien masquerading as a Catholic Priest lording over a convent of alien-nuns (no, really).

Ed Hunt, the man behind Starship Invasions, previous examined the concepts of the Bible, humans and aliens with Point of No Return (1976), another fictional — “based in fact” — sci-fi thriller about an investigator looking into a series of violent deaths, via suicide and murder, which are “somehow” connected to UFOs and nuclear research. Then Hunt was back with a documentary proper: UFO’s Are Real (1979), featuring insights from respected military and science professionals.

Then, there was producer Robert Emenegger, he who gave a documentary with the same title as the book on which it was based, UFOs: Past, Present, and Future (1974); in the midst of Sunn Classics, with their box office rally of documentaries, Emenegger re-released it as a 1976 cash-in. Then, when Close Encounters of the Third Kind broke box office records, Emenegger brought it back, again, as UFOs: It Has Begun (1979). Emenegger, of course, was also in the live-action business and, with Star Wars dominating between 1977 to 1983, he pumped out ripoffs that made Sunn’s Robert Vaughn’s and Christopher Lee’s romps look like a Lucas opera, with The Killings at Outpost Zeta, PSI Factor, Captive, Beyond the Universe, Warp Speed, Time Warp, Escape from DS-3, and Lifepod — which starred the likes of Cameron Mitchell and Adam West, along with plenty of sets, prop, and stock footage recycling.

Who’s the Director?

Maybe, if Michael A. (Alessandro?) De Gaetano — the “power” behind UFO: Target Earth — secured the services of Cameron Mitchell, Adam West, Christopher Lee, and Robert Vaughn. Maybe if he booked Aldo Ray and Virginia Mayo, as he did for his second feature, Haunted (1977), this documentary-meets-reenactment-meets-live action (well, no action) drama amalgamate wouldn’t be so tragic.

Maybe . . . Ah, but guess what? Comic Phil Erickson, the ex-sidekick to Dick Van Dyke, when Dick was an up-and-coming stage comedian, and Montgomery Clift’s older brother (1953’s From Here to Eternity), Brooks, are in the cast. . . .

Yeah . . . Michael A. De Gaetano, aka Alessandro De Gaetano, whose career I do not know, seems to have made his producing, writing and directing debut with this UFO epic. Then, he did two more: Haunted (1977) and Scoring (1979), neither which I’ve seen or feel the need to search for: by titles alone, we’ll guess they are a ghost-horror and a T&A flick.

Then, our ol’ Uncle Mike, aka, Al, vanished . . . and I am of the opinion that’s where his career, ended. And he went of to sell used cars in Atlanta.

Did he return after a decade? No, I don’t think so.

I never trust the digital content mangers at the IMDb, as they’re constantly splitting resumes, due to film artisans using alternate names and aliases during their careers, or they’re database-merging unrelated artists due to similar names. I always look for a second source. But for Mike-Al, there is no second source.

So, no: I don’t believe the Allessandro deGaetano, the one who emerged ten years later to give us Bloodbath in Psycho Town (1989), is one and the same. And no, I do not want to see that film or dig into it any deeper: by title alone, I’ll guess it’s a slasher ripoff.

Then, our crazy Uncle Al (aka Michael?) — not Brescia, but we wish he was Alfonzo Brescia, for at least Star Odyssey was entertaining with its spunky awfulness — vanished, again, for another six years.

Then he came back, to give us . . .

Something called Project: Metalbeast (1995), then Butch Camp (1996), and wrote another one called, Neowolf (2010). The latter is about a band and a werewolf, well, just like — but admittedly better — than Alice Cooper’s Monster Dog. The first two are self-explanatory: yes, the latter is about gay men and lesbian women at a summer camp. And, if not for us diggin’ up obscurities for our latest “Rock ‘n’ Roll Week,” we wouldn’t have broached that wolf rocker, at all.

So, are they all the same “De Gaetano” auteur? Or two. Or three? Magic Google Ball says, “No” to the 8-Ball. I think we have three different Mike-Als IMDb-jumbled . . . then again, I could be wrong, and probably am, and have been before.

Okay, so that’s the mysterious Michael/Alessandro De Gaetano resume in a nutshell to the best of our knowledge. No patented B&S About Movies “Exploring” career featurette is required. Done and done.

A Bad Case of Star Wars-itis

The bogus ’80s theatrical one-sheet reboot on the “Coming Attractions” wall that got me in the door the following week at the ol’ twin-plex/courtesy of Heritage Auctions.

Yes, I know I sound ridiculously pissy over a forgotten, 40-year old film . . . but Mill Creek box sets have that way about them. Yes, I admit I am acting like a dickhead bully kicking the dorky kid of the twin-plex set in the nuts, in this case: Micheal De Gaetano, who l leave wallowing in pain on the playground, as I hit the 7-11 for a Cherry Slurpie and nuked Bean Burrito with a smile on my face for a bully-job well done. You’d think, with enough American International and Crown International sci-fi flicks under my belt, I’d know better.

So, a long time ago, in twin-plex far, far away . . .

I was infected-beyond-cure by Star Wars Fever and the Boogie-Woogie Battlestar Galactica Flu. So, me, the naive movie goer obsessed with all things Lucasian and Grand Larsony, went to see UFO: Target Earth, as well as Star Pilot (1977), aka the decade-old repack of Mission Hydra: 2+5 (1966), at my local twin plex. And both sucked, not only Dianoga ass, but Wompa balls. I even went to see — in its very-limited, one-week U.S. theatrical run — the sequel-Battlestar Galactica film cut from the series, Mission Galactica: The Cylons Attack (1979), and drove 15 miles to do so.

Yes, it was a space-born sickness.

However, I am still pissed off that Michael-Alessandro “stole” my sweated-my-ass-off yard work money for this UFO biblical-aliens boondogglin’ hornswoggle. So yeah, this review is going to hurt, Mike. You know, like those mike booms that keep popping your actors in the head. What’s the deal, Mike? Did you hire the world’s shortest boom man in the history of film? (The more experienced film critic in me now knows: this was shot-on-video, then blown up for theatrical distribution: thus, the boom mike pulled into the frame. So that settles that, 50 years later.)

Under the boom, literally. Left and right, seated together: Our heroes, played by Nick Plakias and Cynthia Cline/courtesy of Just Watch.com.

The Review . . . with Plot Spoilers

“On the afternoon of March 26, 1974, Alan Grimes, a young teaching fellow at the University of Gainesville, attempted to make a telephone call to a colleague to discuss some academic business. It was a call which was to change his life!”
— More cost-cutting voice overs, leading us to believe we’re to embark on a docu-reenactment flick of the Sunn Classic variety

So, while this all takes place two years before Steven Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind . . . don’t worry. Steve didn’t rip off UFO: Target Earth; the origins of CE3K date to his first full-length indie, Firelight, made in 1964 while still a teenager. However, let’s say we have an ersatz Roy Neary (aka Richard Dreyfuss) in Dr. Alan Grimes (aka the-dryer-than-toast Nick Plakias), and our faux-Jillian Guiler (aka Melinda Dillon) is Vivian, the psychic-abductee (cat-screeched to thespian nauseam by a thankfully one-movie-and-done Cynthia Cline).

Courtesy of poor editing — and the film opening with UFO photographs as its opening title cards role, then cuts into Blair Witch-styled, “eyewitness account” documentary interviews — it may not be perfectly clear to most, so we’ll clear it up. The young boy we meet in the opening of the film — dismissed by his mother when he complains, nightly, about the strange lights in his bedroom (“It was like a big star and it hurt” . . .”Oh, it’s just dreams, dear.”), is our hero-doctor.

Now, about that “strange light”: we don’t see it. Nor any saucers, or aliens, or any special effects: as we shouldn’t, since Michael A. De Gaetano — we come to learn these 50-years later — shoestringed his debut film, sans permits, for $70,000. (But I still won’t cut him a break. I’m celluloid-dicky that way.) So, to that end, and as is the case with any ultra-to-low-budget film, we’re exposition-heavy, as characters spew dialog about what they’ve seen. Yes, instead of seeing saucers that couldn’t escape Earth’s gravity (the “strange lights” in the bedroom) we’re told about them.

So, anyway . . . that kid grew up to become a Dr., or some type of communications specialist at a Georgia University . . . which allows him to accidentally intercept a top-secret government phone call (?) about UFO activity near a power plant that’s near a lake (plot point), with jets scrambled (again, we do not see this event).

So, obsessed with the event (again, young Alan’s been obsessed with UFOs since the bedroom lights, natch), he chats up his old astronomy professor (in an obvious, bad grey wig) — who gives us some exposition-babble via a lecture regarding the appearance of Halley’s Comet in 1066 A.D. coinciding with William the Conqueror’s conquest of England and the rise of the Islamic Empire. Oh, and the comet also caused the Crusades, the Great Black Plague, the Reformation, and the discovery of the New World. Oh, and that, always, after a comet arrives, there’s a flurry of UFO activity.

So the professor leads Doc Al to a UFO skeptic-inclined professor, Dr. Mansfield (another one-and-gone actress in LaVerne Light; her assistant is Tom Arcuragi, from William Girder’s Grizzly), as they discuss the old testament story about Jonah and the whale . . . and that a whale’s throat is too small to swallow a man — so it must have been an underwater UFO. And that leads us to our faux-Melinda Dillon (Cynthia Cline): a UFO abductee left “cursed” with psychic powers that gives her the ability to feel “dimensional energy.” That “feeling,” in a bit that predates Meg Ryan in When Harry Meet Sally: her joke-of-a-psychic-episode-with-the-aliens performance is more “fake orgasm” than alien-psychic episode.

So, with a psychic abductee on his side, Alan now has the “link” to the aliens he needs to track then down — and possibly stop an alien invasion. And he does, since the military officer he met with earlier to discuss linking the university’s and military’s “systems” to research the ongoing UFO sightings plaguing Atlanta, gives him the bum’s rush with a smile and handshake. Meanwhile, the skeptical Dr. Mansfield, who knows a thing or two about psychic abilities, but doesn’t buy Vivian’s gifts, tags along with Alan and Vivian to document the area’s UFO sightings, while also disproving Viv’s abilities, all of which takes them to a mysterious lake that may or may not have an alien craft at its bottom.

So, while at the lake, our trio (well, four, lets not forget Nick’s buddy, Dan Rivers) sets up some electronic equipment . . . and the oscilloscope’s patterns, apparently, indicates “something” is down there — and we know this because Vivian has one of her Meg Ryan faux-orgasms. Only the acting is so awful, it’s more like Elaine Benis, the Seinfeld-ripoff of Meg’s character. You know, the way George Costanza was a ripoff of the great Woody Allen.

Anyway . . . there is something below with “an energy force with a flight pattern,” Alan tells us. . . . So, with that flux of the oscilloscope, Alan is summoned by an alien presence (again, heard, not seen). The alien also calls out “Viv-i-ian” over a walkie talkie, so she can have another Julia Louis-Dreyfuss bad-thespian freakout-moment.

Finally. Plot movement.

The alien tells us the story of his becoming trapped on Earth as “formless energy” over 1000 years ago. And that Alan is one of only four in the history of the human race to “ascend” the human form to understand alien life (it’s not mentioned via dialog, but if you know your bible: the other three would be Enoch, Elijah, and the Virgin Mary). Now, Alan must set aside his fear and die, as a “sacrifice” to give the aliens the energy they need to return home. And while he’s not ripping of CE3K, De Gaetano pinches 2001: A Space Odyssey: for as Alan walks to — and into — the lake, he ages.

As ol’ buddy Dan pulls Alan’s skeletal remains from the lake, Alan’s “energy,” i.e., spirit, departs into space. And we actually do “see” the alien face from the poster: it appears on a TV monitor at the lakeside camp. And yes, we do, finally, get some (not so) special effects: three-minutes worth of a pre-Windows screensaver light show via a TV monitor — which represents Alan’s Dave Bowman-esque “light-spirit” ascending to the stars.

Wrapping It Up

The 1989 VHS: Way to to put forth the effort. Why would anyone rent this marketing slop?

Okay, I’ll give credit to where credit is due.

De Gaetano — as I watch this almost five decades after the twin-cinema fact (he was 36 when he made this) — was certainly Erich von Däniken-ambitious in his debut endeavor. He worked in Halley’s Comet, bible parables, and psychic phenomenon, and is certainly a student of all of those Sunn Classics documentaries we spoke of, earlier. The only thing that is missing are the Pleiadians (but, again, Ed Hunt has you covered with UFO’s Are Real), the Lemurians (the 2007 low-fi document Beyond Lemuria has you covered), and the Shavers (Gene Autry, believe it or not, has you covered with Phantom Empire, aka Men with Steel Faces). No, the Unarius UFO Cult in El Cajon, California, didn’t make this (but they have you covered in 2012’s Children of the Stars): Mr. De Gaetano from Georgia, did. His Spielbergian concept is there: the budget, however, is not.

Sure, now, all these years later, it’s not all that bad, but still: not having any aliens — expect that color-smudgy face that shows up on a TV — or spaceships — all supplanted by awful, exposition-thespians — kills it. The script, however, has its intelligent and insightful moments. The alien(s) abducting Alan as a little boy, for their own, nefarious purposes of getting home, is both creepy and, yet, sad. And some of the locations De Gaetano secured on his $70,000 budget are budget-impressive (the bar scene is well-done), and the outdoor shots are competent, as well. So, it’s not a total Ed Wood-meets-Larry Buchanan loss. No doubt, there’s a lot of volunteer (background) acting and location-donations, afoot, so now: my more knowledgeable film critic-side gives Mike-Al a lot of critical slack that my once film-loving child, did not: I now see this as a more ambitious, intelligent-inversion of a Don Dohler faux-Star Wars joint, such as The Alien Factor.

Where to Watch, Where to Buy, etc.

Why we reviewed this flick: We’ve since unpacked all 50 films from this box set/image courtesy of JohnGrit/Unisquare.

In Print: According to Howard Hughes, in the pages of his book Outer Limits: The Filmgoers’ Guide to Great Science Fiction Films (2014), god bless him: he dug deeper into Alessandro De Gaetano’s film. Double-H tell us the film shot-on-location in and around Atlanta, Georgia, at the Fernbank Science Center (Wikipage), the historic Manuel’s Tavern (they have a Wikipage!), and Stone Mountain Park (website). We also learned UFO: Target Earth made the rounds in Halloween 1974 on a double-bill with the Vincent Price-narrated documentary, The Devil’s Triangle. In addition, Centrum gave the film a full-court press, earning the film cover stories in two Spring-Summer ’74 issues of Box Office Magazine.

The ’70s Progressive Rock Sidebar: In this writer’s quest to chronicle all things Kim Milford (Song of the Succubus, Rock-a-Die, Baby), Kim Milford’s post-Moon band from those two films — which he formed with remnants from Genya Ravan`s Ten Wheel Drive (recorded for Polydor and Capitol) — called Eclipse, provides a song that’s alternately referred by Milford fans, based on the song’s opening verses, as “Between the Ceiling and the Sky” and “Between the Earth and the Moon.” However, per the film’s opening credits, the song is actually titled “Between the Attic and the Moon.”

However, it’s debated that it’s Kim Milford on lead vocals . . . or if Eclipse even features members of Ten Wheel Drive.

The debate is the result of the song in question being produced by Patrick Colecchio — who managed the ’60s California “sunshine pop” outfit the Association (“Cherish,” “Windy,” “Along Comes Mary”) for eight years from 1966 to 1974 (then on and off until the early ’80s) — many believed the song was written/performed by the Association incognito. By then, the band’s best-known vocalist from those chart-topping hits, Terry Kirkman, left the band and was replaced by Association drummer-background vocalist Ted Bluechel, Jr. from 1974 until 1979.

So, is it Kirkman, Bluechel, or Milford — backed by members of the Association — singing lead vocals?

For a period of time, Kim Milford — who cut late ’60s singles for Decca Records with Ron Dante (the Archies/anything Don Kirshner-connected) was plucked from a production of the hippie musical Hair for an ill-fated, short-lived frontman post in Beck, Bogert & Appice — was managed by Bill Acoin, known for his work with Kiss, Starz, as well as creating solo careers for Billy Squire (out of the ashes of A&M’s Piper) and Billy Idol (out of the ashes of Chrysalis’s Generation X). Prior to his Acoin years: Milford, it seems was managed, or the very least produced, by Patrick Colecchio.

But we could be wrong about that.

As for the (too loud) background music heard at the bar: We’ve been unable to track down the uncredited song that we’re guessing is called “Country Love.” And it doesn’t sound — to these ears — anything like the Association or Milford would produce.

But we could be wrong about that, too.

You can learn more about Kim Milford’s extensive career on the stage, screen, television, and record with my in-depth biography, “Kim Milford: Rocky Horror, Jeff Beck, Corvettes and Lasers,” on Medium.

Promo Stills: I can’t believe all of the black & white promotional stills for this film available for sale online. You can check them out for yourself: Photo 1, Photo 2, Photo 3, Photo 4, Photo 5, Photo 6.

We also found this Centrum Releasing one-sheet (used for one of the ’74 Box Office Magazine covers) courtesy of Imagenes Espanoles and an KRKE/New Mexico radio print-ad courtesy of imgur.

And we found these two DVD covers:

As if the Lucasian repack of Mission Hyrda 2+5 as Star Pilot wasn’t bad enough . . . they have the NERVE of DVD-pairing it with UFO Target Earth?
Another two-time loser for your DVD decks. The guy who made The Eerie Midnight Horror Show made the latter, if that helps you.

On DVD: As you can tell from the above Star Pilot and Eyes Behind the Stars (unlike UFO: Target Earth, which predates CE3K, Eyes actually is a ripoff of CE3K) two-fer repacks: UFO: Target Earth is easily found on DVD as a standalone film, in multi-packs, and yes, even on Mill Creek Box Sets (in this case, their Nightmare Worlds 50-Film Pack/IMDb track listing). It’s also, very appropriately — if you know your Larry Buchanan’s works — packed with Creature of Destruction (1967) in a two-fer. And beware: all of those presses are copies ripped from either the 1989 VHS (seen above) or grey-marketed off the film’s numerous online rips.

UFO: Target Earth reappears, again, alongside Creature of Destruction, on RetroMedia Entertainment’s Mad Monster Rally 3-disc/box 9-film set issued in 2008 — available both in single discs or one-boxed set. Easily found on Amazon and eBay, the set also features The Blood Seekers (aka 1971’s Blood Thirst), Blood Stalkers (1978), The Cremators (1972), Hobgoblins (1988), House of Blood (aka 1973’s House of Terror), Flying Saucer Mystery (1950; a bogus documentary), and Zombies (aka 1970’s I Eat Your Skin).

Online Streaming: As we go to press, Tubi pulled their upload of the full film — but Mill Creek keeps recycling it on their bargain box sets.

As of Summer 2022, Red Rocket Media returns UFO: Target Earth to Tubi — in an edited form that runs 73 minutes as it cuts the opening credits (we think, via music licensing issues) — to watch on your PC, laptop, or Smart TV. Meanwhile, the Xumo online plaform uploaded an official version of UFO: Target Earth — with its full opening credits — that runs 77 minutes.

In fact, after it’s initial drive-in run that clocked in at 86-minutes, the later Simitar VHS (behind a lot of Jackie Chan and Godzilla films coming to the U.S.) — and copies of those tapes — clock in at 80 and 77 minutes. Over the years, all three versions have come and gone as online rips on various platforms. (You can learn more about that VHS shingle at VHS Collector and Wikipedia.) Two years later (which cut of the film, is unknown), the film made its television debut as a CBS Late Movie on January 9, 1976, then moved to UHF-TV syndication throughout the late ’70s.

The 2023 Restoration: In June 2022, Gila Films announced production began on an authorized, Blu-ray and DVD restoration from original, 1973 camera elements — with the full support of Michael Alessandro de Gaetano. It will include his director’s commentary, as well as a full-color booklet with the full, correct story behind the film . . . which we guessed at via the web-Intel we had at the time of this writing. The release will mark the first time the film’s original aspect ratio has been seen since its theatrical screenings.

Gila is always updating with new info and teasing with various promo materials, so do visit their Facebook page to keep up-to-date with the release.

Bravo to Gila Films, for passionately-made films like UFO: Target Earth by VHS-analog trench warriors like Michael Alessandro de Gaetano deserve that little-extra, special effort-of-affection in preserving them for later film lovers to discover.


It’s with great regret that we’ve learned Michael Alessandro de Gaetano passed away on a Sunday evening, June 11, 2023, in Arizona at the age of 85. You can read his obituary at Horror News.net, rife with new, uncovered trivia about his films and career.


50-plus more space films to check out!

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

Mill Creek Drive-In Classics: Voodoo Black Exorcist (1974)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Lint Hatcher publishers the absolutely, well, wonderful Wonder Magazine. We’re excited to feature him on this site and his take on this pretty strange movie.

Directed by Manuel Caño (The Swamp of the Ravens), Voodoo Black Exorcist is one of those films that sends me hunting through half a dozen film guides — just to see if there was something I missed. It was filmed in Haiti, Jamaica, the Dominican Republic. Surely, authentic locales rendered this voodoo film at least slightly worthwhile. And with a name like Voodoo Black Exorcist… something interesting must have slipped past me. Right?

Of the several guides I have, only two bother to mention this 1974 Miami/Madrid co-production. In The Psychotronic Video Guide (follow-up to The Psychotronic Film Guide), Micheal Weldon makes the usual staccato observations as though the movie was projected onto a disco ball (which is, of course, why I read him). Weldon concludes, “This movie has lots of talk and flashbacks and a fire-eating belly dancer. In my favorite scene, the mummy man is seen in a mirror, slapping a dancer around. The cameraman is clearly seen in the mirror, too.” In Creature Features, John Stanley notes, “Rock-bottom editing, acting, writing by S. Monkada and dubbing will curse this mummy monster flick for another thousand years.”

Did you catch that detail? The careful reader might well declare. “A ‘mummy monster flick’? I thought this movie involved three things: Voodoo, Black, and Exorcist. Nothing in that title suggests sarcophagi.” 

Friend, that’s not the half of it. Although this film was originally titled Vudú sangriento, then alternately Black Exorcist, Black Voodoo Exorcist, Bloody Voodoo, The Vengeance of the Zombie, and Voodoo Black Exorcist, I can safely assert that in its entire one hour and twenty-eight minutes: (1) not a single exorcist appears, (2) none of the actors are black, and (3) there ain’t no zombie.

There is, however, a thousand year old mummy. And he exacts vengeance on his ancient persecutors. On a luxury cruise ship. While an extremely annoying socialite reads Tarot cards. Once the ship arrives in Port-au-Prince, an archeologist hopes to display the mummy on TV while he delivers a lecture about Haitian voodoo — which doesn’t involve mummies.

It gets confusing from there. 

On the shores of “ancient Nigeria,” a young woman, Kenya (Eva Leon in black body paint), swims to the dugout canoe of her lover, local high priest Gatanebo (sort of Egyptian seeming Aldo Sambrel). When they head ashore, Kenya’s irate husband challenges Gatanebo with a spear. Gatenebo refuses to fight, but ends up accidentally killing the guy anyhow. The lovers are subsequently executed by a jury of frenzied, topless voodoo dancers — who lop off Kenya’s head and use a gold ring to poison Gatenebo. (So, yes, there is some voodoo.)

The ancient Nigerians entomb Gatanebo, mummy style. Then, quite suddenly, stock footage of NASA’s space program informs us we have shifted to modern times. European archeologist Dr. Robert Kessling (Alfredo Mayo) tucks the sarcophagus in the cargo hold of a cruise ship headed for the Caribbean. A green-eyed black cat observes all this. Later, in the ship’s bar, Kessling and his secretary/lover Silvia (the reincarnated Kenya) hobnob with the Tarot-reading socialite and her husband as a fire-eating dancer performs to the beat of native drums. Kessling excitedly interprets the dance’s deeper meaning for his companions, verbalizing an incantation that revives thousand-year-old Gatanebo. The mummy smashes the green-eyed cat. (Message: this is not a “good” mummy.)

A side note: I’m with the anonymous writer at the The Bloody Pit of Horror blog who notes, “There’s lots of misinformation about this one on the web, particularly in regards to the cast. The Anglicized credits are at least partially to blame for that. Second-billed ‘star’ Tanyeka Stadler is usually listed as playing Kenya, but that’s not actually the case. Kenya is also played by León (in blackface!), the real female star here despite being billed sixth. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say Stadler (probably a fake name to begin with) is the large-breasted, drag-queen-looking fire dancer whose routines they keep showing over and over again.”

Once Gatanebo is revived, he begins noting physical similarities between several of the people on board and the ancient Nigerians who put him to death. Within the context of the narrative itself, it seems entirely possible Gatenebo is mistaken. Granted, Silvia keeps having flashbacks of Kenya embracing Gatanebo while a “Bali Hai” vocal wails. And, granted, the film brackets everything with an ominous voice-over insisting Gatanebo and Kenya are fated to connect, disconnect, and reconnect throughout eternity. However, this mystical reality doesn’t particularly affect the feel and drive of the film as a whole. In scene after scene, people simply go about their business with zero memory of their past lives — when suddenly they are attacked by a mummy.  

Along the way, a police inspector gets involved who is meant, I think, to exude false incompetence — a la Columbo — while actually reasoning his way to the killer. Perhaps the most interesting scene is when a security guard defends himself from the mummy with a high-power water hose. 

If you are interested in seeing Voodoo Black Exorcist, I suggest avoiding Mill Creek’s full screen presentation. As it is simply locked center screen, protagonists frequently disappear as they face one another. Both the Fawesome streaming channel and FilmDetective.TV have a widescreen version that is in remarkably good shape. 

MILL CREEK DRIVE-IN MOVIE CLASSICS: Craze (1974)

EDITOR’S NOTE: We originally posted this on October 19, 2018. Now it’s come back for the grave for our Mill Creek month.

Thanks to his work on Amicus films, Freddie Francis will always get a pass. And Jack Palance has made some of the worst movies I’ve ever seen so much better. Therefore, I wanted to like Craze way more than I ended up enjoying it.

Palance stars as antique shop owner by day, cultist by night Neal Mottram. The film starts with him sacrificing a nude woman to the African god Chuku, whom he believes will reward him with both wealth and power. It’s movies like this that make being a devil worshipper seem rough and pointless. Every single turn, you have to hunt someone down, kill them, get an alibi and run from the cops. It’s a lot of work and when it’s over, you still lose your soul.

Diana Dors is in it and her life story is way more interesting than the film. She gained her first fame as a Monroe-esque blonde bombshell promoted by her first husband, Dennis Hamilton. After a career of sex comedies and Page 3-style modeling, it turned out that her husband was defrauding her. Still after that, she made further headlines by holding parties where she supplied hot young starlets and plenty of drugs to a large number of celebrities. The real stinger was that she had cameras all over the house to capture the action. The Archbishop of Canterbury even publically denounced her!

Supposedly, Dors left over 2 million pounds to her son in her will. It could be unlocked via a secret code in the possession of her third husband, actor Alan Lake, but he killed himself soon after she died from cancer. Despite the best efforts of codebreakers and even a TV special, the money has never been found.

Anyways — Craze. There are plenty of British starlets in this, too. Juli Ege from On Her Majesty’s Secret Service to name one. I chose to watch this because Suzy Kendall from Torso and The Bird with the Crystal Plumage was in it. And Marianna Stone from Whoever Slew Auntie Roo? shows up as well.

It’s not horrible, but it’s very slow. Palance is great — of course he is — but even he has a lot to contend with here. You can watch it for yourself on Amazon Prime and see what you think.

MILL CREEK DRIVE-IN CLASSICS: Jive Turkey (1974)

Man, Mill Creek box sets are beyond a learning experience, because you’ll get a Hammer movie, the story of a talking monster truck, an Israeli coming of age comedy, some giallo, Spanish horror, a Bigfoot doc and who knows what else. Let’s also include the blacksploitation film Jive Turkey, also known as Baby Needs a New Pair of Shoes.

Pasha (Paul Harris, Truck Turner) runs the numbers in the city. His childhood friend Big Tony (Frank DeKova, who had a long career of playing tough guys and died in his sleep) runs the drugs. But the narcotics are drying up and the mafia wants in on gambling and Pasha even has a traitor in his midst. It’s not going to be a good day.

This movie may not interest many but isn’t that what this site is all about? There are moments to savor here, like the closing Russian roulette scene between Pasha and Tony, as well as Serene, Pasha’s #1 hitman. Or hitwoman. You’ll figure it out and I love that the film didn’t make her into a caricature but instead the most cunning and deadly character in the entire movie.

This all was written by Howard (who produced) and Elizabeth Ransom with a script by Fredricka DeCosta, who all never did anything else. Director Bill Brame did a lot more, including The Cycle Savages, Miss Melody Jones and Scream Free! while editing eight episodes of the original Star Trek.

Of all the things to enjoy in this film, perhaps the best part is that it feels almost like a documentary of a day in Pasha’s life. You get to meet the low and medium-level people who keep the street moving and get the feel that you’re there. And if you’re the least bit offended by language (racist and profanity both), perhaps this isn’t the movie for you because even the soundtrack is filled with it.

MILL CREEK DRIVE-IN MOVIE CLASSICS: The Ghost Galleon (1974)

EDITOR’S NOTE: This voyage of the Blind Dead originally ran on our site on December 13, 2020.

What shall we call this movie? The Blind Dead 3Horror of the Zombies? Ship of Zombies? Or The Ghost Ship of the Swimming Corpses? Let’s just go with The Ghost Galleon and know that it’s the third Blind Dead movie after Tombs of the Blind Dead and Return of the Blind Dead.

Writer and director Amando de Ossorio is back, again pitting the former Knights Templar, now zombie horde against some swimsuit models and the rescue party that comes to get them. Now, they have the power to appear within the fog, taking over the ocean and killing all that they come near.

Jack Taylor, who worked with Jess Franco often, shows up here. He was in everything from Mexican films like Nostradamus and the Monster Demolisher to The Vampires Night Orgy and Pieces.

This movie is like being in a trance. A trance that has a flaming ship in a bathtub for a special effect, which is perhaps one of the finest trances to find oneself. The Blind Dead themselves are wonderful as always, but the idea that a sporting goods store owner could get publicity by stranding models and then somehow a galleon filled with the graves of Knights Templar who sacrificed women to Satan find them and take them inside their fog world and…ah, why am I complaining? That’s actually a perfectly logical plot.

MILL CREEK DRIVE-IN MOVIE CLASSICS: Treasure of Tayopa (1974)

Yeah, nearly a decade after this movie was released in theaters, it came back out as Raiders of the Treasure of Tayopa because sometimes people get confused at the video store.

Writers Robert Mason and Phillip Michel, as well as director Bob Cawley and most of the actors in this movie, all were one and done with this film as their lone attempt at making it.

Well, they didn’t.

Except for Gilvert Roland, the one-time Cisco Kid, is the narrator. Yet two of the charcacters also narrate the film, which is different. So is having a female lead in a Western. But as three people and one psychopath head to Mexico to take seventeen tons of gold back to America.

You may see the beginning — a cockfight — and think, “This is going to be some watchable sleaze.” But it isn’t. It isn’t even sleaze. It’s Treasure of the Sierra Madre without talent, storytelling, visual appeal or Bogart, but it does have a bad guy who is a man named Sally. One assumes that his father named him that because he knew that he wouldn’t be there to help him along, so he gave him that name and said goodbye, and he knew Sally would have to get tough or die.

Can you imagine renting this and expecting movie serial style action? The box art just screams desperation and disappointment and now, this film lies waiting for you amongst 49 other movies.

A wise man once said, “Marion, don’t look at it. Shut your eyes, Marion. Don’t look at it, no matter what happens.”

You should listen to him.

MILL CREEK DRIVE-IN MOVIE CLASSICS: Street Sisters (1974)

What would you do if your mother was a hooker?

Honestly, I’d be less embarrassed by that fact than I am to admit that I watched this movie.

Arthur Robinson was the auteur of this whole shebang, as he directed, wrote, art directed, production designed and even decorated the sets and wrote the original play that it was based on Don’t Leave Go of My Hand. This is his deal the whole way out and I’m shocked that he didn’t star in it as well.

The main character is the white-passing son of a light-skinned prostitute sent to live with his grandparents and forever stuck between the worlds of black and white. That sounds very sweet, except that Grandpa assaults Young Boy’s girlfriend, which is not the positive life lesson I was hoping for.

Somehow, this was sold as a blacksploitation movie when it’s closer to that chitlin circuit plays you used to see advertised at 4 AM right before Perspectives.

Then again, I’ve never seen a movie that goes from a sepia funeral to the main character choking his mother to death, so there’s that. Spoiler warning for a film I warn you to not watch.

Then I give you the YouTube link.