Review of Man Beast

1956's "Man Beast" marked the debut of hustler director Jerry Warren, a former bit player like Ed Wood itching for a shot behind the camera. Hype from W. Lee Wilder's "The Snow Creature" first created interest in the Himalayas, but as a single feature this opus only earned a flat rate that brought on his decision to combine double bills for 100% of the profits. Sources vary as to exactly what type of footage was used for long shots of frigid mountain climbing, either an unfinished Mexican title or something closer to home, but he did use the cast for scenes in Griffith Park's Bronson Canyon, easily identifiable for its lack of snow. Despite the deadly pace it might be said that as a first feature Warren probably never surpassed it as a coherent story from start to finish, the mysterious screenwriter B. Arthur Cassidy likely a pseudonym for the director himself, everything composed around the stock footage at hand, some provided by Poverty Row's Monogram/Allied Artists catalog. It remains a long slog as Asa Maynor's intrepid heroine goes in search of her missing brother, accompanied by two assistants to reach a scientist and his native guide Varga (George Skaff), all the while failing to notice a yeti observing from a discreet distance (a costume previously used for PRC's "White Pongo," certainly an improvement on the shag carpet from Wilder's minor epic, not seen until the 25 minute mark). The final reel makes up for all the climbing tedium, as Varga reveals himself as half human and half yeti, intending to take the woman for himself after dispatching all the men first, the last survivor escaping an avalanche to do victorious battle for the fair maiden, leaving their pursuer to try climbing down a steep mountain side with a rope that yields to the law of gravity. At least Warren has more to offer than "The Snow Creature," but Hammer's upcoming Peter Cushing vehicle "The Abominable Snowman" put the exclamation point on such cheap productions with a touch of class. Next up for the filmmaker would be his first double bill, "The Incredible Petrified World" (first collaboration with John Carradine), then a script conceived on his honeymoon, "Teenage Zombies." If George Skaff looks familiar, his screen comeback essentially began with Ray Milland's 1972 "Frogs," a film in which he demonstrated the wrong method of alligator wrestling!