I know it's horribly wrong for me to even mention the joy I felt in discovering that this golden chunk o' crap was available on DVD, albeit as a hard-to-find German import under the title MUTANT: DAS GRAUEN IM ALL (which, if my long-forgotten single semester of German hasn't totally escaped me, loosely translates as "The Ultimate Horror," or "The Universal Horror," or "The Horrible Blood Sausage," or some such nonsense. I got a "C" in German, anyhow.) But I was delighted nonetheless.

See, I have this disease. It's a kind of chronic brain-cloud that distorts my perception of cinema, so that despite having graduated from film school, complete with a working knowledge of film theory and history, coupled with ready access to all of the medium's greatest creative influences, I somehow keep gravitating to the realm of late '70s-early '80s exploitation crap. Among the chief perpetrators of this cinematic processed cheese food was the late, lamented New World Pictures, created by Roger Corman and ably supported by the patronage of drive-ins across the nation.

Of course, hopeless geeks already know about this, but for the more socially capable of you, I'll fill you in: New World Pictures adheres to the dogma put forth in Exploitation Commandment #1, laid out by Corman, which goes something like: "Thou Shalt Steal That Which Sells." In other words, if a particular type of movie was bringing in boffo box-office - like, say, STAR WARS - any exploitation outfit worth its salt would seize upon the simplest, most overt elements of that trend - e.g. spaceships and robots and weird aliens blasting away at each other - and rob them for its own gain. The result would invariably be the cinema equivalent of a cheap knock-off pair of sunglasses; sure, they're silver-painted plastic instead of metal and break as soon as you put them on, but for a split second they look kinda like Armani from thirty yards away. Hence, the sci-fi mania following STAR WARS begat the New World Picture BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS, made for one-tenth the budget (although still one of New World's most expensive productions), which earned oodles of profit on a relatively low initial investment. It's just good business, baby!

Then, of course, there's Exploitation Commandment #2, which proclaims "Thou Shalt Apply Commandment #1 To Thyself." In essence, this means you can plunder your own profitable productions like a deranged Robin Hood, re-using footage from one successful film to pad out the next, thus saving money and perpetuating the same profitable trend, albeit now in watered-down form. Hence we saw footage from BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS cropping up in dozens of subsequent New World sci-fi productions over the span of only a couple of years. (Nearly a quarter-century has passed, and Corman is still cribbing material from this film.)

Which leads me, finally, back to my original thread, that is to say FORBIDDEN WORLD, which practices Commandment #1 by capitalizing on the success of ALIEN - or more accurately, capitalizing on the success of New World's GALAXY OF TERROR, which itself drew energy from ALIEN's boffo box-office. FORBIDDEN WORLD then honors the second credo by liberally lifting footage from its predecessor, as well as from BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS. Then, like GALAXY, it puts heavily into practice Commandment #3, which states simply: "More Tits." This is where FORBIDDEN WORLD usurps its predecessor, which included only one scene of female nudity (albeit a very icky one involving a giant maggot, which to my great dismay is beloved by numerous sick fucks out there), and provides ample opportunity for any and all attractive female cast members to zip out of their shiny jumpsuits and take showers, preferably together.

Now that I have your attention, I'll provide what there is of the plot:

Interstellar troubleshooter Mike Colby (Jesse Vint of MACON COUNTY LINE) is awakened from hypersleep by his plastic sidekick SAM-104 to combat some stock footage from BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS, after which he is informed he must forego his planned rest leave (isn't that what always happens to space heroes?) in order to check out a messy situation on the planet Xarbia, a desolate world that serves as the base for a food research station. (Why a lifeless planet far from human civilization would make an ideal food resource facility is beyond me, but that's the miracle of SCIENCE!) Seems one of their genetically-engineered foodstuffs got the whole concept bass-ackwards, and is running around eating all the lab animals.

After flying through some GALAXY OF TERROR stock footage, Colby arrives on Xarbia to assess the situation, offering his no-nonsense approach to non-human life forms: "If it moves, and it isn't one of us... shoot it." (Apparently Colby's "petting zoo massacre" flashback was written but never filmed.) This attitude is a bit off-putting to the already-rattled resident scientists, particularly project leader Dr. Hauser (Linden Chiles), who, in full aloof scientist mode, resents the intrusion. His associate, Dr. Glaser (June Chadwick), is somewhat more welcoming - in fact, she transforms into a porn star the moment they make eye contact. Hauser introduces her as one of the best genetic engineers in the galaxy, and to confirm this fact for the audience, we get a close-up of her ass in a tight white jumpsuit. I was convinced.

Meanwhile, the rogue experiment in question - affectionately christened "Subject 20" and subsequently re-christened "The Dingwhopper" - has slithered off to another lab after a hearty meal of dogs, rabbits, white mice, orangutans, antelopes, fruit bats and breakfast cereals, and has conveniently cocooned itself in one of the isolation booths, thus safely locked up until they can figure out what the hell it actually is. Safely, that is, until a dumb-ass janitor (all high-tech space labs have at least one dumb-ass janitor on duty, and another on call at all times) decides to take a really, really, really close look at it by putting his face on it. Gore and violence promptly ensue, half of Dumb Ass Janitor Guy's skull is eaten, the rest of him is turned into self-replicating tofu, and The Dingwhopper beats feet (all twelve of them), thus instigating a room-by room search straight out of ALIEN - except in that film, the crew members didn't knock off their search for the night in order to play goofy "futuristic" (i.e. see-through) musical instruments and fuck each other's brains out. No, seriously, that happens here, while Sweaty Security Guy (sorry, I forgot about him - so will you) watches on close-circuit TV, just like they do in your favorite hotels, and plays with his space yo-yo. (No, that's not a sexual metaphor; he really has a space yo-yo, and it lights up and goes "wheeeeee.")

So anyhow, while our "troubleshooter" has been shooting something else (ahem), our intrepid mutant has managed to kill yet again. Presumably after having coffee and a Danish over the morning paper, Colby finally drags his ass to the Astro Blastoid Laser Tanning Booth (all deep space labs have at least three of these) to find... a naked lady! This time it's teenage cupcake Tracy (Dawn Dunlap), who seeks solace after the death of Dumb Ass Janitor Guy (she's seen earlier looking wistfully at his photograph, so I guess they were an item) by telling Colby to drop his space-briefs and give 'er the business. (57 years in suspended animation must produce some serious morning wood, so I guess his eagerness to comply is understandable.) Sadly, our hero is interrupted in his quest for more astro-poontang by the untimely arrival of Subject 20, the creature he flew trillions of miles over here to kill in the first place. Our monster now looks like a proper B-movie beastie: under-lit, sporting thousands of teeth, and covered in K-Y jelly. No doubt wishing he was the one dripping with personal lubricant, Colby reluctantly dons his space duds and returns to the fray, getting a couple more people killed in the process and pretty much accomplishing nothing. Jesus, where do I sign up for a job like that?

While that's going on, poor Tracy tries desperately to purge the horror and grief from her cute little soul by... taking a shower! Of course, it's not really a shower, but a Kosmo Plasmatic Wonder Wash, which doesn't use water but just goes "WZZOW" and looks like a Pink Floyd Laser Light Show. And since she's lonely, frightened and covered with mutant spooge, Dr. Glaser helpfully strips down to help wash her back. Of course, since this scene was clearly written to allow a bit of intricate plot exposition, Glaser explains that she's hit on a solution to their problems: they should have a friendly chat with the creature, and you know, work out their territorial issues. This conclusion - which makes as much sense as hitting yourself in the face with a hammer to work out your pain issues - is drawn from the fact that Subject 20 has a heapin' helpin' of human DNA in it, so naturally it can communicate in perfect English... which lo and behold, it does! The first words produced by this miracle of evolution - via computer terminal - are simply "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" (Jeez, sorry I asked!) Bored with small talk, it decides to change the subject by killing more people, including the good Dr. Glaser. Colby's little trouble-shooter must certainly be flying at half-mast by this point.

With our hero's efficiency rendered pretty much moot, the last surviving scientist, Dr. Cal Timburgen (REPO MAN's Fox Harris) concludes that there's only one way to kill a mutant that adapts instantly to the DNA of its prey: feed it a big, steaming bowl of cancer. Well, fuck, why didn't they think of that before? It turns out this weapon is readily at hand, since Cal's conveniently been breeding a tumor the size of a basketball in his gut (nursed along helpfully by his relentless chain-smoking). The only hitch is Colby has to cut it out of him first - which he does with gusto, although rather sloppily and without anesthetic, ripping and pulling out bits of spleen and pancreas while his patient tries to talk him through the procedure (between ear-splitting shrieks of agony).

By now, we're down to two cast members: Colby (apparently through sheer luck) and Tracy ('cuz she screams REALLY LOUD, which adds vital tension). Well, three if you count the Dingwhopper, but after Colby slam-dunks Cal's tumor-ball down its maw (at least I think that's where he shoves it), it's mere seconds before it comes down with what can only be described as a fatal case of acid reflux. Now it's presumed - though it's not shown - that Colby is now free to snuggle up with Tracy in the hypersleep tube (naked, of course) for the trip home to collect a massive paycheck for a job well done - except for a few minor details, like the horrible deaths of everyone who called him for help in the first place. Well, that's what they get for hiring a guy named after cheese.

So, you may ask, what the damn is it about this thing that makes it so entertaining? If you need to ask this question, then there's absolutely nothing I can do to help you. It's that simple. If a big rubber monster bolted to a broken camera dolly being pulled down corridors made of inverted lunch trays and Big Mac boxes isn't your definition of fun... if futuristic soft-porn music full of "bleep-bleep" and "ahh-ah-ah" sounds doesn't put you in the mind of outer space adventure... if the seizure-inducing flash-frame insertion of shots from various scenes that haven't occurred yet isn't your cup of tea... well, then you're probably perfectly healthy, and you're free to go. The rest of you, read on.

This little gem from Germany's Anolis Entertainment is the best quality video presentation of this film available right now. Point of fact, it's the only video presentation of this film available right now. Compared with the mid-'80s VHS release from Embassy Home Video, this disc is not much of a visual improvement - it's still full-frame and there's a lot of print damage - but at least the badly-lit scenes are slightly more decipherable and the colors are a bit more pronounced. The soundtrack has been improved a bit, thanks to a serviceable 2.0 mix on the original English track, as well as the default German dubbed track (on which every character sounds really intense - I like to pretend it's a lost Fassbinder film). Extras include a decent promo still gallery showing the film's many title and language variants (MUTANT is actually the original title, but it was changed after a preview screening); some other stuff in German; the oh-so-intense German trailer ("MOO-TANT!!!"); and the prize of prizes: the entire musical score, all indexed and titled and stuff, so you can enjoy the futuristic soft-porn vibe with every "bleep-bleep" and "ahh-ah-ah" in delicious stereo - a delightful accompaniment to your next wine and tapas party.

Shit, you're still reading this? Well, now I have to come up with some kind of summation. Hmmm...

FORBIDDEN WORLD represents one of humankind's finest artistic achievements. Together with GALAXY OF TERROR, it represents the second half of New World's classic diptych known to cineastes as the "Big Monster Ogling Naked Lady Chained To A Rock" series - named after the promotional art for both films, which features big monsters ogling naked ladies chained to rocks. There are subtle thematic differences, of course: the poster for GALAXY OF TERROR features a skull-faced monster ogling a naked lady chained to a vertical rock, whereas the poster for FORBIDDEN WORLD features an insectoid monster ogling a naked lady chained to a horizontal rock. Nevertheless, the theme is classic in nature, perhaps even archetypal - as demonstrated in Greek mythology and other works of fine art throughout history, such as Lord Leighton's 1891 painting "Perseus and Andromeda," in which a monster is ogling a naked lady chained to a rock. Perhaps this is mere coincidence. Perhaps I just like repeating the phrase "naked lady chained to a rock." I'll leave it to you to decide. Either way, there actually isn't a single scene of this type in either FORBIDDEN WORLD or GALAXY OF TERROR. Believe me, I looked. But it makes for a cool poster.

Seek this movie out at once. You'll need a region-free, PAL-compatible player to view it, but it'll be worth it, even if it costs a bajillion dollars and your left testicle.