Six GIs, about to be send home and discharged, get drunk and sneak into a cult meeting in Asia. Surrounded by hooded figures, two male dancers pretend to have a fight. Behind them, on an altar, a woven basket opens and a figure painted emerges and begins imitating a snake, finally biting one of the dancers on the neck. The imitation snake is dressed in some scaley looking body tights. (This is definitely a female imitation snake.) The cult member who has sneaked them into the secret meeting has warned the six men repeatedly that the ceremonies must not be interrupted and, most definitely, no photos must be taken or else they will be hunted down and killed. Naturally, the GIs take a flash photo, send the cult members into an angry hysteria, steal the basket containing the "snake" and run off with it into the Asian night.
One of the guys, the most offensive and snarky, dies from a cobra bite on the neck, though no one can explain how the snake got into his hospital room.
Back in New York, it all seems rather old news as the discharged men settle down into their civilian lives, still maintaining their bond with one another. Their jobs range from manager of a bowling alley (David Janssen) to graduate research student (Richard Long). James Dobson, Jack Kelly, and Marshall Thompson are also part of the neighborhood. Richard Long has a nice blond girl friend. Kelly is a somewhat reckless womanizer. But they all get along well enough and all of them seem happy.
Then a dark, shifty-looking, mysterious woman (Faith Domergue) shows up and Marshall Thompson takes a liking to her and insinuates her into the group.
Guess what happens. First Janssen is terrified by a shadow in the back seat and dies in a car crash. Then Kelly gets a visit from Domergue. Something scares him so badly he tumbles through the window and dies in the fall to the sidewalk. Long and Dobson begin to suspect what the viewer already knows -- that Domergue has had something to do with the deaths. They also reckon that maybe she's turning into a cobra, which is the case. Dobson confronts her with his suspicions and she proves his point.
By this time Long and Thompson are thoroughly frazzled, particularly Thompson, who is in love with Domergue and has discovered that she is attracted to him, too, although he must explain to her what "love" is. No matter. A final reckless attack by the cobra woman against Long's girl friend -- not one of the six original offenders -- and Thompson must throw the snake out the window. On the pavement below, the body changes to that of Domergue. The end.
I think I'll skip over most of the questions that the plot raises. I'll just mention one of the more prosaic ones in passing. Who paid for Domergue's fare from somewhere in Asia to New York? Who's paying her utility bills in the hotel? Who paid for her spectacular wardrobe? How come she speaks American English so well? What the hell's going on? The writers and director have clearly seen some of Val Lewton's modest horror films and, though not much effort has gone into this production, they've unashamedly stolen some gimmicks from Lewton. In Lewton's "The Cat People", for instance, the woman is transformed into a black leopard but, with one tiny exception, the threat is always kept in the shadows and is all the more spooky for it. Most of the transformations here use shadows too, but unlike Lewton's, the shadows are clumsy and unambiguous.
Lewton also made occasional use of what he called "buses". Lewton's first "bus" was a literal one. A potential victim is hurrying alone through the dark tunnels of Central Park with only the sound of footsteps. Something or someone is following her. She freezes with fright under a street lamp. Something rustles the branches of the shrubs above her. She looks upward. There is a loud, wheezing shriek that makes your hair stand on end. It's a bus using its air brakes to stop for her. The producers used at least two "buses" in this film and they amount to nothing. A guy is walking distractedly across an intersection, for instance, and there is the sudden rumble of a truck that almost hits him. There is no set up to the shot. It's jammed in with a shoe horn.
I don't much care for movies that perpetuate the stereotype of serpents as slimy, ugly, venomous, and phallic. As a matter of fact, no snakes are slimy, most are harmless, and many are extraordinarily beautiful. Furthermore, they're more feminine than masculine in their sinuous movements and serpentine approach to goals. You want a reptilian symbol for masculinity? Try a six-lined racerunner. It's a really fast lizard. When it sees something to eat, it rushes up and gobbles it down.
Anyway, if you want to see some fine, low-budget scary films, don't bother with this one. Find "The Cat People" or one of Lewton's other minor masterpieces, of which this is an obvious copy.
One of the guys, the most offensive and snarky, dies from a cobra bite on the neck, though no one can explain how the snake got into his hospital room.
Back in New York, it all seems rather old news as the discharged men settle down into their civilian lives, still maintaining their bond with one another. Their jobs range from manager of a bowling alley (David Janssen) to graduate research student (Richard Long). James Dobson, Jack Kelly, and Marshall Thompson are also part of the neighborhood. Richard Long has a nice blond girl friend. Kelly is a somewhat reckless womanizer. But they all get along well enough and all of them seem happy.
Then a dark, shifty-looking, mysterious woman (Faith Domergue) shows up and Marshall Thompson takes a liking to her and insinuates her into the group.
Guess what happens. First Janssen is terrified by a shadow in the back seat and dies in a car crash. Then Kelly gets a visit from Domergue. Something scares him so badly he tumbles through the window and dies in the fall to the sidewalk. Long and Dobson begin to suspect what the viewer already knows -- that Domergue has had something to do with the deaths. They also reckon that maybe she's turning into a cobra, which is the case. Dobson confronts her with his suspicions and she proves his point.
By this time Long and Thompson are thoroughly frazzled, particularly Thompson, who is in love with Domergue and has discovered that she is attracted to him, too, although he must explain to her what "love" is. No matter. A final reckless attack by the cobra woman against Long's girl friend -- not one of the six original offenders -- and Thompson must throw the snake out the window. On the pavement below, the body changes to that of Domergue. The end.
I think I'll skip over most of the questions that the plot raises. I'll just mention one of the more prosaic ones in passing. Who paid for Domergue's fare from somewhere in Asia to New York? Who's paying her utility bills in the hotel? Who paid for her spectacular wardrobe? How come she speaks American English so well? What the hell's going on? The writers and director have clearly seen some of Val Lewton's modest horror films and, though not much effort has gone into this production, they've unashamedly stolen some gimmicks from Lewton. In Lewton's "The Cat People", for instance, the woman is transformed into a black leopard but, with one tiny exception, the threat is always kept in the shadows and is all the more spooky for it. Most of the transformations here use shadows too, but unlike Lewton's, the shadows are clumsy and unambiguous.
Lewton also made occasional use of what he called "buses". Lewton's first "bus" was a literal one. A potential victim is hurrying alone through the dark tunnels of Central Park with only the sound of footsteps. Something or someone is following her. She freezes with fright under a street lamp. Something rustles the branches of the shrubs above her. She looks upward. There is a loud, wheezing shriek that makes your hair stand on end. It's a bus using its air brakes to stop for her. The producers used at least two "buses" in this film and they amount to nothing. A guy is walking distractedly across an intersection, for instance, and there is the sudden rumble of a truck that almost hits him. There is no set up to the shot. It's jammed in with a shoe horn.
I don't much care for movies that perpetuate the stereotype of serpents as slimy, ugly, venomous, and phallic. As a matter of fact, no snakes are slimy, most are harmless, and many are extraordinarily beautiful. Furthermore, they're more feminine than masculine in their sinuous movements and serpentine approach to goals. You want a reptilian symbol for masculinity? Try a six-lined racerunner. It's a really fast lizard. When it sees something to eat, it rushes up and gobbles it down.
Anyway, if you want to see some fine, low-budget scary films, don't bother with this one. Find "The Cat People" or one of Lewton's other minor masterpieces, of which this is an obvious copy.