1. PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE (1956). Directed by Ed Wood Jr. The all-time classic of superior ineptitude and remarkable bungling, featuring Bela Lugosi in outdoor footage in which he stands around doing nothing, is available from Sinister Cinema, Something Weird, Nostalgia Merchant, and others. Just browse around in the $2.89 Woolworth bins to find it. A laser, designed for those who want to know everything about this flick, was issued by Image.
2. THE CREEPING TERROR (1964). Directed by Art(less) Nelson. This is the one about an alien monster that looks like an elongated shag carpet and swallows entire humans through its gaping maw, even though it takes forever to move ten feet. The soundtrack, according to one urban legend, was lost in Lake Tahoe and the entire sound had to be dubbed. United, VCI and Rhino have dared to transfer it to videotape. Are you daring enough to seek it out?
3. THE GIANT CLAW (1957). Directed by Fred F. Sears.
A giant bird from space, resembling an overweight turkey buzzard and looking rather plucked, can only be stopped by a device called a "mu-meson projector." With long neck and bulging eyeballs, the thing will have all you bird-watchers rolling in the aisles. Director Sears, described as a part-time bird watcher, is said to have "winged it" during this strictly-for-the-bird production. It looks it. Movies Unlimited has issued this celluloid travesty on tape. Perhaps Columbia too.
4. FIRE MAIDENS FROM OUTER SPACE (1956). Directed by Cy Roth. Sexy lady dancers swing to the music of Borodin on a moon of Jupiter where they want to sacrifice astronaut Anthony Dexter to their black gods. Contact Cinemacabre for the videotape. Take Alka-Seltzer for indigestion.
5. ROBOT MONSTER (1953). Directed by Phil Tucker. Leading man George Nader (only one of six humans left on a zapped Earth) looks almost as mechanical as the extra in a gorilla suit who's supposed to be an invading alien. On the top of the suit is a fishbowl made up to resemble a space helmet. And the E.T. guy has a Bubble Machine (loaned to producer-director Tucker for the weekend by Lawrence Welk?) for a communications device. Ro-Man (or the guy in the suit) chases Claudia Barrett and Selena Royle all over Bronson Canyon. Yes, you must see it to believe that it really exists. If you don't see it, you won't believe that it exists. Sony dared to put it on tape, Rhino dared to issue a version in 3-D for party watching, and Image has a laser disc version for the richer intellectuals among you.
6. MESA OF LOST WOMEN. Directed by Herbert Tevos and Ron Osmond. Also known as LOST WOMEN and LOST WOMEN OF ZARPA, this travesty denigrates the talents of Jackie Coogan and Richard Travis while also depicting a race of "black widow women" who have been injected with a spider serum, and now lure men into their diabolical webs of death. Sinister Cinema offers it on videotape.
7. THE BEAST OF YUCCA FLATS (1961). Directed by Coleman Francis. Tor Johnson, a regular in grade-Z Ed Wood Jr. ineptitude classics in which he frequently tried to throttle Bela Lugosi, turns up here as the leading man, who is transmutated into a blobbering, maniacal killer after he's exposed to an atomic blast in the Arizona desert. A primer in how not to expose film inside a movie camera, BEAST is awful beyond human comprehension. This unwatchable hunkajunk is available from Sinister Cinema, Something Weird, Filmfax and Cinemacabre.
8. NIGHT OF BLOODY HORROR (1969). Directed by Joy N. Houck Jr. Sit through a few minutes of this Night of Cinematic Bungling and you'll realize why Gerald McRaney has spent millions trying to burn up the negative and protect his "major" reputation as a sitcom actor. Terrible title matches atrocious lighting, lousy acting and sleazy set design. On video from Paragon and King of Video.