Disc Type

"The year: 1990. The problem of traveling to the moon has been solved for many years. Space stations have been built there and authorized personnel come and go as they wish. But the moon is a dead world, and the great question about space still remains: Does life exist on another planet?"

In the 1966 Curtis Harrington B-Movie, that question is finally answered. Earth has contacted a civilization on a distant planet. They have agreed to send an ambassador to Earth to extend their friendship toward our planet, at least that's what Earth believes. On the way, the ship crashes on the Mars moon Phobos. An Earth ship led by Allan Brenner (Saxon) arrives to rescue any survivors. There is only one (Marly). She's a green-skinned woman in a green bodysuit. She's brought aboard the rescue ship where the crew attempt to communicate with her. Their orders are clear. They must ensure her health and get her safely back to Earth, even when she starts killing the crew members. It turns out she's an alien queen and a vampire. She sucks the blood out of crewmen after putting them in a helpless hypnotic state. But this alien vampire is less like a bat than a mosquito. She gorges herself on blood so that she can reproduce. Before long she's left her eggs all over the ship...and Dr. Farraday (Rathbone) has ordered them recovered and taken to the lab, a duty that falls, in the final scene, to our very own Uncle Forry Ackerman.

There have been few horror writers with the understanding of human nature that Edgar Allen Poe had. We only see one or two in every generation. Likely Stephen King is the closest that our generation has seen. But Poe knew the psychology of horror. He knew those dark special places in the mind where the true terror resides. Most of his characters encountered their fatal demons deep inside of themselves. With source material like that, how can you go wrong? Buried Alive demonstrates that you can still go horribly wrong.

First of all, it should be noted that this 1990 thriller bears little resemblance to the works of Poe. Elements are thrown into the film, it seems at random, just to justify the use of his name in the title. There's a black cat that appears to hang around bearing witness to the unpleasantness. There are vague similarities in the manner in which the victims are dispatched, but all ties to the master, Poe, end there.

Herman's Hermits was a huge part of the 1960's British Invasion that started with the Beatles. They were a five-piece band that had the typical shag haircuts and produced candy pop music that was particularly lapped up by millions of swooning teen girls here in America. The band's hits included There's A Kind Of Hush, I'm Henry, The Eighth I Am, and Mrs. Brown You've Got A Lovely Daughter. Unfortunately, none of these standards from the band's days of hits can be found in this rather silly movie.

The story finds the band enjoying a successful American tour. Their manager, Dudley (Fox) isn't taking any chances. He's willing to hire professional fainters to keep the boys' image at its hyper pace. He's also doing his best to keep the boys from any actual contact with any members of the female horde. That's bad news for Cecile Bannister (Langdon) who wants desperately to gain attention for a studio acting contract. She conspires to get a picture with the band at every opportunity, usually with comic disaster the result.