What worked for Divine's acids scars in "Female Trouble" does not work for Cameron Mitchell in this D grade horror film that is a wretched rip off of "Mystery of the Wax Museum" and "House of Wax". Certainly the idea of redoing those stories in the setting of the movie industry is interesting as a basic plot, but you've got to have a really strong story and intriguing characters to make it work. The premise has haar's erupting on a set of a movie about a wax museum that leads to the shocking revelation that the wax figures are actually humans.
Cameron Mitchell, an actor who had some success in the 1950s, had diminished in his career, starring in low-budget schlock, and this is possibly one of the worst of the lot. He plays a has been movie star, scarred from an acid attack, who vows revenge on the studio heads and goes out of his way to turn their starlets into wax figures. at one point, he actually tells someone that he can see their face in wax, and of course, they don't know that he means it literally.
This takes the basic idea of the classic wax museum tales and stretches it out to 90 minutes with a ton of filler that really even has no point in being in the film. At one point, there's a bunch of scantily clad starlets doing a bad musical number, certainly no point for the story. Ann Helm and Scott Brady add some more name value (of the B star mentality) yet it's Mitchell's hammy emoting that really brings this down to the level of waxy yellow build up. As they said in "Young Frankenstein", "Put the candle back!" These candles don't drop any wax worth recycling.
Cameron Mitchell, an actor who had some success in the 1950s, had diminished in his career, starring in low-budget schlock, and this is possibly one of the worst of the lot. He plays a has been movie star, scarred from an acid attack, who vows revenge on the studio heads and goes out of his way to turn their starlets into wax figures. at one point, he actually tells someone that he can see their face in wax, and of course, they don't know that he means it literally.
This takes the basic idea of the classic wax museum tales and stretches it out to 90 minutes with a ton of filler that really even has no point in being in the film. At one point, there's a bunch of scantily clad starlets doing a bad musical number, certainly no point for the story. Ann Helm and Scott Brady add some more name value (of the B star mentality) yet it's Mitchell's hammy emoting that really brings this down to the level of waxy yellow build up. As they said in "Young Frankenstein", "Put the candle back!" These candles don't drop any wax worth recycling.