Classic Horrors Club

Ah, the American dream! Jerry Warren grew up in Los Angeles and wanted to go into the movie business. However, unlike untold numbers of people who only wanted to do it, he actually did it. After creating and distributing his first four films, though, he decided it took too much effort, so he began buying foreign-made films, editing them, dubbing them in English, adding stock footage and shooting some new scenes with American actors.

Lest anyone think he was trying to earn critical acclaim or wins awards, ponder this quote of Warren’s:

I’d shoot one day on this stuff and throw it together…I was in the business to make money. I never, ever tried in any way to compete, or to make something worthwhile. I only did enough to get by, so they would buy it, so it would play, and so I’d get a few dollars. It’s not very fair to the public, I guess, but that was my attitude…You didn’t have to go all out and make a really good picture.

The Incredible Petrified World (1959), Warren’s second film as producer and director, is an example of a man living by his mission statement, or as I like to say, practicing what he preaches. However, since it’s among his first films, it doesn’t rely as much on the stock footage as some bigger budget films from other major studios. (I’m thinking of you, The Deadly Mantis (1957.) In fact, most of it is just waves crashing dramatically during the opening credits.

When a cable breaks on their diving bell, four people discover an underwater cavern in which they seek refuge before their oxygen supply depletes. Since they can breath inside, they assume there’s a path to the surface. That is, until they encounter Ingol – “Old Man in the Caverns” (Maurice Bernard) who tells them there’s a volcano (that we never see) creating breathable air. I’m no man of science, but do volcanoes do that? (I had to Google it. They can, but not as a primary component of their gas.)

I wouldn’t call the cavern a “world,” much less “incredible.” Why, it’s barely petrified unless you count the 10-12 year old skeleton wedged between rocks. The most dangerous creature they face is a lizard. I don’t know how large it is; there’s nothing surrounding it to judge size. While there’s not much excitement, I will give the one screenplay that John W. Steiner wrote credit for using some common sense: as they explore, they mark rocks to prevent circling.

On the other hand, Steiner has a mean streak that he shares with journalist Dale Marshall (Phyllis Coates.) For no apparent reason, she snaps at the other three characters and argues with the other woman, Lauri Talbott (Sheila Noonan.) Her erratic behavior gives the movie it’s only excitement… and might wake you up if you’re dozing. At only 70 minutes, you’d think this much story would pass quickly, but there are only so many caverns to explore.

Meanwhile, Prof. Millard Wyman (John Carradine) monitors their progress and disappearance from topside. Just as Craig Randall (Robert Clarke) comforts  Lauri and tells her that he loves her and that as long as he loves her, his life is complete, Wyman spearheads a montage of building another diving bell to search for them. Spoiler alert! They’re rescued and, more importantly, Dale realizes how terrible she’s acted.

The others realize something as well:

Room to breathe. I’ve never thought about it much, but… there’s nothing greater. 

There’s something greater for the fourth crew member whom I have yet to mention and somewhat plays the unnecessary comic relief, Paul Whitmore (Allen Windsor), as he proclaims that he’s ready for a 2-inch steak! This movie is not nearly as bad as I was led to believe. I didn’t squirm in my seat or loathe the experience. However, neither did I sit on the edge of my seat or love the experience.

My friend and podcasting co-host, Richard Chamberlain, calls The Incredible Petrified World the movie that almost broke him. He’s giving it a re-watch to see if his feelings have changed. Click here to read what he thought. Then, leave a comment encouraging him to face the other film that “challenges” him: Mesa of Lost Women (1953.)