Baron Von Brain Eater

Baron Vitelius of Astara is about to have a bad day, though you wouldn’t know it by the smug look on his face as he’s being tried by a Spanish Inquisition for witchcraft, necromancy and assorted wrongness in 1661. If convicted – and it’s pretty much a slam dunk by the black hooded tribunal who only speak in sub-titles – Baron Von Smirky Smirk is gonna be the featured attraction at a good old fashioned witch burning.

Before he can do his impression of a S’more, a 300 year cycle comet suddenly appears overhead, and the BBQ Baron swears to the sparky meteor that he will return in 300 years (as when the comet does its round trip) to exact revenge on all his accusers’ descendants. (He’s lucky no one is gay so he can return from the dead and make kill happen to all of the above.) Thus is the gripping beginning of 1962’s Spanish horror camp classic, The Brainiac (aka, Baron of Terror).

Sure as the morning wood rises, 300 years to the day the comet crashes the party and Baron Vitelius is hitching a ride. A fragment breaks off and gently lands on the ground and turns into the Baron, who in turn transforms into a human-sized demon fly-headed creature with a pointy tongue that would make Gene Simmons turn clown white with envy. Time for some tongue-lashing retribution.

Posing as a foreign dignitary, in human form he lures the descendants into flame-y deaths, which are preceded by Baron Von Fly Face sticking his 18-inch tongue out and sucking out the brains of his victims through the back of their necks. Then he sets fire to the surroundings, charring the evidence.

As the Baron he’s smooth, smokes cigarettes like they were medicine, eats those aforementioned unrefrigerated raw brains from an ornate bowl with a dessert spoon, and makes out with chicks – all with sparse dialogue. (Actions speak louder than words when it comes to smooth smooching.) He can also make his face brighten and darken, like an open/close sign on a tavern, which wide-eye hypnotizes his kills into standing still while he changes into the monster and sucks them dry.

Better still is when the Baron, in creature form, breathes – his head expands and contracts like a paint-huffing paper bag. And his fingers turn into two claw-esque tubes that he softly clacks together as if pinching a marshmallow to death.

Two detective are onto the clues and corner Baron Von Suck Suck. His fate, like shampooing and rinsing, repeats itself with the cops showing up with scuba tank sized flame throwers. The Brainiac is loaded with hilariously interpreted dialogue (“You are guilty of clumsy and illegal practices…”) and tension-less drama. But it’s the monster with the expanding and contracting head and that rock star quality tongue that makes this one a classic keeper.