That moment when you want to roar and make the humans run, but you can feel that sneeze coming on instead.
Gorgo (1961) follows a not unfamiliar plot line. Man finds monster, man catches monster, man takes monster home for a bit of exploitation, Mama Monster catches wind and comes a-hunting … man. Throw in a dumb little boy who has mysterious knowledge and probably should have been thrown over the side of the private salvage ship (read: treasure hunter) he stows away on, two really awful monsters – I mean, the rubber feet on these beasties were embarrassing! – and a lovely destruction of London with, perhaps surprisingly, many of its inhabitants in a welter of collapsing walls, and that’s about it.
Glowing red eyes, some OK acting. No profound themes, some questionable behaviors, and that damn kid. This one was not worth the time.
