Manos: The Hands of Fate ~ Being A Review

Some times its fascinating to see just how dreadful a work can be, whether the work in question is a novel, a painting, a poem or a film. I'm not a big fan of the genre known as Outsider Art since the majority of what falls into categorey is, in my opinion, simply bad, no-talent rubbish. But there are a very, very few works that go beyond the merely bad, the painfully amatuerish, the excritiatingly inept and become something entirely different, something so beyond any categorey that rational evaluation becomes impossible. Such a work is Hal Warren's film Manos: The Hands of Fate.

The plot, such as it is, involves a typical middle class family out on their vacation who get lost in the desert and, as night is falling, seek shelter in a mysterious house. It soon becomes apparent that all is not what is appears and our wholesome family finds themselves in a nightmare involving the cult of Manos and whose high priest has designs on the wife. As for anything else in Manos: The Hands of Fate such as acting, pacing and cinematography, basic elements in any film, these barely exist. The acting is beyond dreadful with the only person attempting anything like it is the guy who plays the caretaker, Torgo. He gives a heartfelt rendition of twitching and stuttering. Everyone else somnabulates through the film and with lines such as "I tell you, we're not lost!" "Oh, Mike, I'm so scared!" "The M-m-m-m-aster will not like it!" and "Silence my wives. The will of Manos must be served!" how could one do anything else. The pacing and camera work is turgid and bizarre. There are lots of shots of the back of people's heads and we're stuck watching scenes go absolutely nowhere for a very long time. Warren, who directed the film and plays the part of the husband, was highly influenced by the expressionist German silent films of the 1920's and every now and then some half-baked tribute to Lang or Murnau appears, but a very, very bad tribute, enough to have made Lang and Murnau turn over in their graves. There is a peculiar watery, compressed feel to the film, as though it were filmed under murky water, deep in the ocean. As bad as Manos: The Hands of Fate is, it is a strangely compelling film. In fact, it is so bad that it goes beyond any attempts at formal criticism and into its own unfathomable realm. Let's put it this way: Manos makes Ed Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space look like Gone With the Wind.