Yucca Flats isn’t the kind of place you’d like to vacation. Not only is it highly irradiated by nuclear testing, it’s also a place where police shoot at innocent people. The only salvation seems to be that they’re terrible shots. Oh yes, and there’s a Russian scientist transformed into a beast by an atomic bomb blast. As you can tell, I’ve just been to Yucca Flats. In movie-land, of course. The Beast of Yucca Flats, yet another candidate for the worst movie of all time, really worked hard to obtain that title. The movie did make me curious about Coleman Francis, however. Like Ed Wood, he tried to make his way in the rather unforgiving movie world with tiny budgets and even less native talent. The number of scenes where guys had their butts to the camera alone raises all kinds of questions.
The numerous contradictions in such a short movie—less than an hour—and the long scenes that add nothing to the plot are signposts that we’ve entered the twilight zone of B movies. Famously filmed without sound, the incongruous dialog later added as voiceovers, adds to the surreal atmosphere. The movie shares Tor Johnson with Ed Wood. And also, apparently, a sincerity betrayed by lack of ability. The cult status of movies like this signal hope for those who try to make their own way in a world enamored of big budgets and large crews. It would help, though, if Francis had a clear story to tell. He does seem to have Luddite tendencies, and he condemns violence even as he has a sheriff’s deputy literally “shoot first and ask questions later.”
The movie has a couple of moments of cinematographic finesse. The moment when Lois Radcliffe approaches the car, shot from the interior, when Hank lays his arm across the door, made me think something better might be coming. Tor Johnson wasn’t the most gifted actor, but he always seems to have fun with his roles, being cast as a hulking monster. It’s too bad he doesn’t have a bit more screen time in this, his last movie part. He kinda makes me want to hunt down some of his other appearances beyond the Ed Wood films I’ve already seen. There’s a story here, I expect, that really hasn’t been told. There’s an entire world—a twilight zone—outside Hollywood where producers with no budgets but a passion for making movies plied their trade. Their efforts, as paltry as the results may be, suggests there’s more to the movie world than it might seem.
