Digging Up Mummies

First in an action-packed early model Mexican sci-fi horror trilogy, Attack of the Aztec Mummy (aka, La Momia Azteca/1957) pits the gauze god getting in a Texas ballet with the clearly mad scientist Dr. Krupp (he eats his lines like Jaws eats a human bologna sandwich).

The Mummy (whose pre-interred name is Popoca) then goes on to again chop unfinished beef with Krupp in Curse of the Aztec Mummy (aka, La Maldición de la Momia Azteca/1957). And yes, it was over a girl and some sort of ornamental chestware you’d might find in Dollar Tree stores. (They’re in the back.)

Not able to just let it go, Popoca locks up with a mechanical adversary in The Robot vs. The Aztec Mummy (La Momia Azteca contra el Robot Humano/ 1958). Who’s he gonna pick a fight with next — Johnson & Johnson™ Band-Aids vs. The Aztec Mummy)? Maybe it has something to with the fact he’s been dead for so long, he bleeds dust and he didn’t sleep well the last few thousand nights.

Not related to this gripping tale of dead-and-yet-not antihero’s speechless tirades is Wrestling Women vs. The Aztec Mummy (aka, Las Luchadoras contra la Momia/1964), in which the Mumster takes on street gangs, more evil scientists and…GALS THAT GRAPPLE! Guess who won? And you better not say evil scientist.

On an interesting or “interesante” P.S. note, all three Aztec Mummy movies were filmed back to back, probably so as to not let the mummy get all uptight and subsequently unwound. Heh. 

Wailing Wolf-Man

If you’ve seen 1964’s Face of the Screaming Werewolf and walked away confused as all heck, you’re not alone — Screaming Werewolf, made from parts of several different movies (La Momia Azteca/1957 and La Casa del Terror/1959), is a screaming mess, beside the fact it would’ve been better titled as The Screaming Werewolf Face. (Personal preference.)

The movie starts out with doctor-esque archaeologist guys hypnotizing a psychic chic (psy-chic — heh) who life regressions herself as a sacrificial Aztec test dummy. This leads the history dudes to an Aztec pyramid, where they discover and bring back a two mummies (but no daddies — heh). Right here we have several problems — one of the crusty corpses is the sacrificed Aztec gal and the other a regular guy who happens to be a werewolf. How an American werewolf ended up mummified in Mexico is just part of this “movie’s” abstract premise. (Must’ve been a heckuva booze cruise, though.)

So they bring the mummies back and a mad scientist, whose lab is located through a secret door in the back of a horror wax museum, applies volts to jolt the man mummy back to life. With only a meager supply of electricity, the experiment fails. Nature steps in, supplying lightning and one heck of a utility bill. Prior to the power-up, his face looked he fell asleep in a bowl of pancake batter. And because it’s a full moon, his moon-beamed mug becomes covered in fur where there was no fur before. Nothin’ left to do now but go on a choking spree.

The werewolf runs out into traffic and doesn’t bark at even one car. Then he makes a girl faint, throws her over his shoulder like a sack of pancake flour brought to market, and climbs up the side of an apartment building, all the while being climb-pursued by one of the scientists. Then the werewolf climbs through a window and comes all the way back down to the street using the stairs. (He probably didn’t want to wait for the elevator.)

Meanwhile, the Aztec mummy comes back to life and goes after the psychic woman. The werewolf, now slingin’ a different chick who really put up a fight and even smashed a decorative vase over the monster’s head, brings her back to the wax museum. I have no idea why. The scientist throws chemicals around like holy water, starts a fire and battles the werewolf. Somehow the werewolf is bested and catches fire, which makes him turn back into man form, his shirt still buttoned tucked in as if prepping for a school photo. The cops show up to dismiss the numerous “werewolf” sightings as just a simple case of a man burning on the floor in front of them.

The werewolf looked werewolf-y enough, but his upper fangs were grimy and his lower fangs Pepsodent™ bright. He wore a belt to hold up his freshly ironed britches and kept shoes on the entire time. They were neatly tied. Didn’t know werewolves to be such fastidious dressers. Too bad the filmmaker didn’t follow suit. (Heh.)