No Good Very Bad Movies 17: The one with a head transplant

 

Title: The Brain That Wouldn’t Die aka The Head That Wouldn’t Die

Classification: Irreproducible Oddity/ Anachronistic Outlier

What Year?: 1959 (filming)/ 1960 (copyright)/ 1962 (theatrical release)

Rating: It’s Okay! (3/3)

 

With this review, I’m back for more actually and allegedly “worst” movies, after a very deep dive into some very notorious material. What I found myself running into frequently were a specialized category within what I call the Anachronistic Outlier: Movies that look and feel like they “should” be from the 1950s that really came out later. There are many reasons for this. Some actually were made in the ‘50s but had delays in production and release that held them back. Others were continuing ‘50s trends, particularly the “monster movie” and the early sword and sorcery wave. Then there were those that are just so rough and outright primitive that they just scream 1950s B-movie even if they date well into the ‘60s. The one that stood out had already intrigued me, enough that I also considered bringing back a retired feature to cover it. Here is The Brain That Wouldn’t Die, a ‘50s movie that came out in the 1960s and feels just a little like 1970s.

Our story begins with a handsome maverick doctor saving a patient while arguing bioethics with his father. In short order, we also meet his fiancée Jan. Then tragedy strikes as the doctor wipes out his car on the way up to a cabin that looks more like a community college annex. He walks away, but all that remains of Jan is her head. With experimental transplant and life-support technology, he restores Jan to life, despite her repeated protests. The doctor leaves Jan in the care of his disreputable assistant while he sets out on an even more ambitious experiment: Find a new body for Jan- even if it means killing a living woman to do it!

The Brain That Wouldn’t Die was an independent film by B-movie producer Rex Carlton and director Joseph Green, who shared credit for the story and script. The movie was reportedly shot in 1959, with a copyright date of 1960. The film starred character actor Jason Evers as Dr. Cortner and Virginia Leith as Jan, with Anthony LaPenna as minion Kurt and Adele LaMont in her only known theatrical appearance as the model Doris. The film did not receive a theatrical release until 1962, when it was released by AIP (see Futureworld, Meteor, etc.) as a double-bill. The AIP release included two versions of the title. The film was widely ridiculed for low quality and its bizarre premise, though it was also noted for unusual gore effects and exploitation themes. An “uncensored” cut would likely have been rated R. The movie was subsequently featured in The Golden Turkey Awards and Mystery Science Theater 3000. It is in the public domain, reportedly due to copyright errors. Carlton produced a total of 10 films, several of which were released after his death in 1968. Green only directed one other film, The Perils of PK in 1986. Leith died in late 2019, at the age of 94.

For my experiences, this is a movie I knew by its notoriety long before I saw it. I finally watched it in a 2-pack with a far more obscure (and honestly worse) film. With my usual warped frame of reference, my immediate reaction was pleasant surprise. Of course, it’s not “great”, but it’s far above the actual bottom of the B-movie barrel, and it’s aged better than plenty of big-budget dramas and “message” films of its time (see Robot Monster and When Worlds Collide respectively). At the least, it’s a prescient take on modern medical ethics. In a wider view, it’s a sleazy but honest “slice of life” that covers sex workers, violence against women, gender and class double-standards, and even a possible LGBT character. This is where the movie feels both behind the curve and oddly prophetic. What’s genuinely impressive is that even pure “cringe” moments make a real point, particularly as the respectable, clean-cut doctor charms those who should be wary. The egregious example is the absolutely painful fight between two burlesque girls, lent a pathetic sort of pathos by the fact that their guy has long since moved on.

Moving on, we get to the core story, which is where the comparatively high standard of competence really matters. All the significant cast are capable actors given reasonably well-developed characters to work with, while the obvious problems have as much to do with self-dated (if not already outdated) styles and mores as with any fault in the performances. What gets legitimately unsettling is that the actual leads interact very little with each other, to a degree that only makes sense if the relationship was shaky to begin with. That Bill cares more about the challenge of saving Jan than he ever did about her is Armchair Psychology 101, but Jan is dysfunctional in her own way. She justly declares her hatred for Bill, yet there’s no introspection about their relationship or how her feelings and trust must have misplaced. If it comes to that, we never get a formulaic “remember our good times together” speech, which really means Jan can’t be nearly as oblivious as she seems to Bill’s nature. In the midst of it all, the most functional and interesting character is Kurt, revealed as both an assistant and guinea pig. At a minimum, he’s the only one who admits his failures and his ambitions. In the process, he reveals almost everything we learn about what the Hell is going on, at one point monologuing even after Jan interrupts him. There’s surely an intended indignity in his demise, staggering about with his “good” arm torn off.

Then there are the “creatures”, Jan and the mostly unseen monster in the doctor’s comically inadequate closet. This is where I seriously debated whether I should have included this one in the Revenant Review. The head is done well enough, without any distracting trickery. Outside of a few establishing shots, Jan is seen almost entirely in closeups, accentuating Leith’s performance rather than the effects rig. The changes in angles give a further sense of the gadgetry around her, which all looks reasonably functional. Then there is the monster, represented by Israel-born giant Eddie Carmel when it appears. Kurt describes it as the sum of the doctor’s “miscalculations”, originally “a mass of grafted tissues, lifeless… broken limbs and amputated arms”, which I maintain absolutely qualifies as a zombie. Naturally, what we do finally see doesn’t live up to the description. Still, it’s fascinating for sheer improbability, especially the asymmetrical face. There’s a nice extra touch of contempt in the startlingly graphic death of the doctor, which feels like a parody of the cannibalistic zombie yet comes a full decade before Night of the Living Dead.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I’m going with the meeting of the doctor and the model. He initially walks in on her posing for a group of male photographers, which I am sure must have been shot twice by the original crew. She quickly sends away the group, brutally crushing a guy who tries to his on her. When Dr. Cortner doesn’t leave, she is wary but respectful. They discuss their mutual past, referring at several points to an “accident” that clearly wasn’t accidental. What follows is at face value more routine melodrama, culminating in an underwhelming reveal of a scar that hasn’t been visible in repeated closeups. The part that’s intriguing in a tawdry way is her repeated statements that she doesn’t “date” men, followed by a quite casual mention of a “girlfriend”. It may not quite as suggestive as it sounds through modern filters, but I’m satisfied that this is meant to imply that the character is or at least might be lesbian/ bisexual. And what’s vaguely impressive is that this is all done without any appeals to neon-sign stereotypes that were certainly in exploitation vocabulary (compare with Prey, if anything). It’s just a normal conversation between a man and an otherwise “normal” woman that would really stay the same however you read it, and that’s as thoughtful a take as we got for a very long time.

In closing, all I have to add is that this movie is here first and foremost as an example of what people think of as a “so bad it’s good” movie from a peak era of such things. Nobody ever said it was great, but between its flaws and its actual merits, it’s more than enough to be entertaining. On a deeper level, it’s the kind of art that expresses the anxieties and presumptions of its time better than more capable and well-meant works. Look deeper still, and you will find disconcerting insights that remain relevant far ahead, even if it is for reasons the creators could never have intended or expected. Call it good, call it bad, you will remember it. For me, that’s good enough for a passing grade.