You may live by me today,
Then tomorrow go away,
There will be no tears from me,
That’s the way it’s got to be.
- “That’s the Way It’s Got to Be,” pop perfection from The Poets (as heard in “Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster.”)

This fun little grade-Z horror film from 1965 doesn’t deserve its bad reputation. Aside from its cheat title (there is no Frankenstein or Frankenstein’s monster involved) and affinity for stock footage, this is a solid drive-in effort with a dynamic comic book sensibility. After a nuclear war, the citizens of Mars find that all of their females have become infertile. Princess Marcuzan (Marylin Hanold) and her assistant Doctor Nadir (the creepy Lou Cutell) decide to search the galaxy for acceptable female specimens to help out with the Martian procreation. Space bound they discover signs of intelligent life emanating from Earth’s atmosphere. Ironically enough, at the same time, NASA is preparing to send an astronaut to Mars. The space man in question turns out to be a half man/half robot cyborg named Frank Saunders. As his rocket ship blasts into space, it’s mistaken by the Martians as a missile. They attack the rocket, but not before Frank makes a hasty escape by parachute where he lands in Puerto Rico. The Martians follow the astronaut to the party-loving paradise and promptly send out a henchman to finish him off. Frank is shot in the face by a Martian ray gun and quickly turns into an unhinged killing machine. With half of his face a metallic mess, you might even say Frank has become some sort of… Frank-enstein!

Meanwhile, Princess Marcuzan and Dr. Nadir decide that Peurto Rico might not be such a bad place to look for potential breeding stock. While Frank is busy killing bikini clad women, Martins in spacesuits begin abducting… bikini clad women. Frank’s creator Dr. Steele (horror legend James Karen) and his assistant Karen (Nancy Marshall) race to Puerto Rico to see if they can save their bionic man who, unbeknownst to them, has become a bionic serial killer. Dr. Steele and Karen motor scooter through the city with their handy “bionic locater” and soon find the damaged astronaut sulking in a cave. While the doctor attempts to fix Frank, Karen leaves to get help but is soon captured by the Martian henchmen. She’s taken back to Princess Marcuzan’s ship and locked next to a cell with Mull, the dreaded space monster of the title. The Martians continue their abductions of nubile young women, hitting the jackpot at a wild pool party. Soon it’s up to Dr. Steele and the newly retooled Frank to stop the Martian menace before all the pretty tourists of Puerto Rico are stolen away!

“Frankenstein” is always mentioned along with “Plan 9 From Outer Space, 1959” and “Robot Monster, 1953” – forming an infamous triptych of bad. All are regarded as Sci/Fi camp classics that are ‘so bad they’re good!’ “Plan 9” is one of the few films that can actually claim that dubious distinction. That infamous Ed Wood production is still great fun to watch. Phil Tucker’s “Robot Monster,” while admittedly funny in parts, has a sluggish pace and is simply too boring to warrant the “classic” moniker. Though it’s slight praise, “Frankenstein” is the smartest and the most accomplished of the three. It also has a funky comic book sensibility that lends itself (intentional or not) an air of self-reflexive humor. The costumes and make-up, while rudimentary, posses a tacky charm that evoke both the early “Flash Gordon” serials and the Mexican wrestling movies of the ‘60’s. It should also be noted that Mull, the space monster, is one of the few dime store, piecemeal creations from that era that manages to be simultaneously absurd and unsettling. Director Robert Gaffney does a serviceable job with his actors who must brave not only amazing dialogue, but costumes that in most cases appear to be extremely uncomfortable. The bizarre performances of Hanold and Cutell are difficult to shake. Cutell is especially creepy with his amateurish bald appliance and sickly grimace. He also gives his camp dialogue an oddly naturalistic reading, making his Dr. Nadir one of the more memorable villains of ‘60’s drive-in exploitation. The beautiful Hanold was in the equally memorable “The Brain that Wouldn’t Die,” one of the first drive-in films with authentic (albeit very little) gore. Karen gives a perfectly fine performance under the circumstances. He’s always turned in solid work whether it’s a low-budget horror film or a glossy Hollywood project.

Clearly this is a comic book movie made for a very specific audience in 1965. Young kids looking for freaky matinee fun and teenagers who frequented drive-in triple features no doubt got what they were after. Watching the film over 40 years later, what most strongly comes across is the tight pacing (it was edited by Lawrence C. Keating) and the giddy comic book approach of the entire production. Whenever the film’s theme song “That’s the Way It’s Got to Be” by the Poets begins to play, there’s a wonderful gonzo magic that happens. It’s a pretty catchy tune and though it’s doubtful that it was written for “Frankenstein,” it really gives the film a curious pop sensibility. There’s also the ubiquitous love song as our heroes ride through the streets of Puerto Rico, adding a subtle romantic angle to their otherwise chaste relationship. Too bad there wasn’t ever a soundtrack album released!

Though not as complete as Dark Sky Films’ Del Tenney double feature released last month, this is a pretty respectable package. The film is presented in its original aspect ratio and it makes all the difference. It’s light years ahead of those horrible prints that played endlessly on the late, late show. The print is not perfect, but it’s probably the best its looked since its original release. All of the stock footage added to the production (and there’s quite a bit) exhibits a lot of wear. However, there’s a clarity to the original (non-stock) footage and the widescreen presentation is proof that cinematographer Saul Midwall was certainly no hack. The Dolby Digital mix is a bit muddy, but the original soundtrack elements were surely even worse. The Poets come in quite nicely though – and all of the crazy dialogue is present and accounted for. The special features are hardly “special,” but the original theatrical trailer is included (something that should be mandatory for every repertory film release) and a still gallery with press photos and lobby cards. There is also a well-written booklet included with musings by one of the “Frankenstein” writers George Garrett. It’s a fascinating behind-the-scenes look at the film’s inception with Garrett going into vivid detail about his “Frankenstein” adventures. He discusses the colorful producers and the fun he and his co-writers had putting the absurd plot into motion. It’s too bad that he wasn’t interviewed onscreen; his witty remembrances would have been even more enjoyable juxtaposed with scenes from the film.

It will shock no one when I say that “Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster” isn’t a great film. But it’s certainly one of the more enjoyable exploitation movies from its era. It also has a creepy, curious charm that those horrible made-for Sci/Fi Channel movies could never hope to achieve.