Today we celebrate 55 years of Manos the Hands of Fate!
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“Celebrate.”
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“Manos.”
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I can give you a couple of hours, but 55 years? I’ll miss the bus.
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From The Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film:
“What kind of movie would a fertilizer salesman from El Paso, Texas, make? This kind: Warren is vacationing with his wife, little girl, and poodle Peppy when he takes a wrong turn to nowhere and stops at a phantasmagoric house to ask directions. Servant Torga [sic] answers and the nightmare begins. Peppy is torn to bits trying to escape, and his owners end up in a cheesy backyard temple witnessing the weird rites of revived master Manos and his harem queens. The presence of guests causes nothing but trouble; the bickering between Torga and Manos escalates until Manos makes a point by vaporizing Torga’s hand in sacrificial fires. Meet Torga’s replacement in the surprise conclusion. Made in El Paso. With Tom Neyman, John Reynolds, and Diane Mahree.”
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“DO SOMETHING! GAH!”
Summary
“Body seems unclear, is it a complete sentence?”
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A cautionary tale of what can go wrong on a family’s very first vacation.
On a side note, there is a Hotel Manos.
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I hope they have someone who takes care of the place while the Master is away.
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55 years and that couple is still making out in that car.
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Happy Birthday Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966)! The single movie and experiment where I stared at the screen in complete amazement. Speechless. The movie traumatized me. Much as my life did then except this moved me unexpectedly. It scars you and you never forget it. The music, the innocent family, the void of nothiness quite literally in front of you. The combined nature of it and the writers frustration in riffing this seemed like life and it stayed with me.
Enough so years later I would bring Manos to unsuspecting friends and expose them simply to get a reaction. People used me back then and Manos became the great equalizer setting things right. So to speak. I even wrote a English report on Manos in High School and brought the Rhino VHS and played sections of it for the class. By then I saw the best of cinema and Manos and MST exposed me to the other side.
Not simply bad but endearingly inept. I in my insecurity identified with movies not respected by society as someone who had no friends til 16. I related to not getting a second glance and collecting dust on a shelf. Manos was me in a way and has remained so to this day. I evolved since yet it holds a lasting place in my heart. I mention it even today. All my friends have copies and my best friend even quotes it and comically laments seeing it. Jackey Neyman Jones sold me an autographed Torgo staff I keep lovingly in my closet. “To Bruce - Take care of the place while The Master is away” is the inscription.
The bond exactly? My childhood is that film. As sad as that is. Emotionally it encompassed that accidentally and spoke to me at 14 in that living room watching Comedy Central in disbelief. Torgo my father. The couple my mother and stepfather. I exaggerate none of it. The movie matched my young life at the perfect moment. It landed punches personally and intellectually. I read Leonard Maltin’s Movie Guides since the age of 9 and I leapt into film to escape my life. Tackling silents, film noirs, sword & sandals biblical epics, I understood the form and Manos fell into my lap and was so woefully incompetent it had the intensity of a classic in its badness. A rare trait. A Roger Corman Meets Igmar Bergman vibe. A tragic flight of fancy turned nightmare made endearingly touching while being the worst thing I’d ever seen. A singular experience and one I treasure. There’s nothing like it.
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Corman would have made that film watchable.
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The Corman influence is there regardless. The low budget earnest straightforward banality reminds me of Corman and in how it’s shot. Ingmar Bergman flows through the hysterics of the wife, the microcosm of the cult, the unending dread it brings, and that stone cold ending which is as austere as it is preposterous.
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“Well, whatever it is you’re not doing, go don’t do it somewhere else.”
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“That was just one guy talking. Just one guy.”
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According to The Criterion Collection, the low budget shocker Carnival of Souls (1962) was intended to have, “The look of Bergman, and the feel of Cocteau.” Loving that film too, the quote hit me and when watching Manos (1966) unriffed the Corman/Bergman thought emerged. Was anything I read deliberate? Probably not though Bergman and Corman were major influences then and Warren had to be impacted somewhat by their success, similarity in budgeting, and being the in-thing then.
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I would argue it is watchable if you have the stomach. Manos (1966) appears as a Ghost Pepper of bad moviemaking. The burn is much of the attraction and the sweet naive manner it goes about it.
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I think it’s agreed that “Manos” is the best, or in the category of best episodes.
But I’m asking myself is it the first episode you should show someone who has never seen MST3k?
I think you need to show them at least a couple of episodes before getting into “Manos”.
What do you think sirs?
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You definitely have to work up to Manos
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One ought to have four or five episodes in AT LEAST before exposing yourself. The movie tests you as it does Joel and the Bots. Grasping the experiments, the general vibe, and growing more comfortable with the notion and having fun with it are key prior to Ivan Drago hitting you in the face. Seeing Manos (1966) too soon might turn someone off. Like physical conditioning, lifting 170 pounds to start isn’t a good idea. Now getting there and surviving it later is no better feeling in the world.
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Roger Corman would have never let that film drag that way.
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