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Trog
[WB]
1970; color
Directed by Freddie Francis
Starring: Joan Crawford, Michael Gough, Bernard Kay, Kim Braden & David Griffin
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When this film opens we see three relatively strapping fellas wandering a random relatively sprawling English moor. Upon closer inspection, the men appear to be explorers of some sort as they are helmeted, backpacked, and otherwise outfitted to so some exploring. Sure enough, one of them soon spies an entrance to the main channel of a cave and, naturally, it's into the dark recesses of the earth we go for our intrepid travelers, who seem to have a pretty easy go of it as far as the getting into the cave part goes. Once inside they are greeted by a large expanse of cave floor apparently untouched by human feet, as well as a pool of water. (Perhaps there are others; we'll never find out, as they don't bother to explore further.) One dude decides to strip down to his skivvies and go into the possibly briny deep and, as he's making his way through the narrow channel, a second decides to join while the third elects to stay dry. The lead dude in turn is the first to discover the next deeply hidden layer of cave floor and carefully placed stalagmites and stalactites which leads him to yet another, more shallow, body of water and yet more stalagmites and stalactites. As he slowly creeps forward, he hears a rush of footsteps behind him, turns and is horrified to be confronted by some sort of hairy man-beast not unlike the monkey boy on Land Of The Lost. He shrieks causing the creature to literally go ape and beat the shit out of our poor wet boxer clad hero, leaving him bloody and lifeless on the cave floor for his friend to find. Before the third member of the group can undress and attempt to come to the rescue, the second pops up out of the water screaming "He's dead! He's dead!" Then we're whisked off to the Brockton Research Centre, a large estate which is relevant for two reasons - one, it's where the two remaining explorers are being treated; and two, Dr. Brockton is none other than Joan Crawford. At this point we can safely switch away from detailing the plot and focus on the film's other, uh, highlights because by this point the viewer has seen the monster, not to mention seen Joan Crawford slur a few lines, and should know what they're in for. Not to mention whether or not they can sit through the rest of the film. (Plus the filmmakers themselves didn't seem to pay all that much attention to the rest of the plot, why should we.) I suppose I should at least point out that the monster in question is a troglodyte, thus the title of the film. And... now I did. Needless to say, we here at the Buffet love a good cheesy movie. We also love a bad cheesy movie and a so-bad-it's-good cheesy movie. Trog could easily fall into any or all of those categories, depending on one's level of cinematic lactose tolerance. Proceed accordingly.
—Bunny
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