Plan 9 from Outer Space: Cinematic drama the same way a clown car is transportation.
Plan 9 from Outer Space has Aliens, Zombies, and Ed Wood’s Crippling Lack of Talent —The Only Thing Harder Than the Acting is Trying to Explain This Movie to Your Therapist!
Ladies, gentlemen, and horny extraterrestrials lurking in the back row of the drive-in—gather ‘round, because we’re about to dissect *Plan 9 from Outer Space*, the celluloid equivalent of a bow-legged hooker trying to tap-dance in quicksand. Directed by the infamous Ed Wood (who apparently filmed this while huffing model airplane glue), this 1959 “masterpiece” is so gloriously inept that it makes *Deep Throat* look like *Citizen Kane* by comparison.
The Plot (Or Lack Thereof)
Aliens—dressed like rejected Vegas lounge acts—decide to conquer Earth by resurrecting the dead as stiff, disjointed zombies. (Think a chiropractors’ nightmare or the delivery man who moves like he’s got a broomstick lodged up his backside). Their grand scheme? “Plan 9”—which, spoiler alert, is about as threatening as a vibrator with dead batteries. Our hero, a square-jawed pilot (who delivers lines like he’s reading ingredients), teams up with a cop so wooden he could’ve been carved by a Boy Scout. Brought together to combat… bad acting, mostly.
The “Special” Effects
The flying saucers are literal hubcaps dangling from visible strings. The “space” is a black sheet with glitter thrown at it by a deranged kindergarten class. And the zombies? Bela Lugosi—God rest his soul—shot three minutes of footage before croaking, so Ed Wood just slapped a stand-in with a cape over his face and hoped nobody’d notice. Spoiler: You notice.
Why You Should Watch It (With Booze and a Willing Partner)
Here’s the thing, degenerates— Plan 9 isn’t a movie. It’s an experience. Like losing your virginity in a haunted house, it’s awkward, confusing, and over way too fast. The sheer audacity of its incompetence is erotic in its own way. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll question humanity’s worth… and then you’ll get laid, because nothing turns a woman on like saying, “Hey baby, wanna see the worst movie ever made?”
Final Verdict: 0 Stars, 100% Boner-Inducing Chaos
If Plan 9 from outer space were a porno, it’d be the one where the plumber forgets his tools but somehow still “fixes the pipes.” It’s terrible. It’s magnificent. It’s the cinematic equivalent of catching your parents doing the nasty—you wanna look away, but you’re transfixed like a deer caught in the headlights, you brain in its panic, stopped working the controls.
So go watch it with a bottle of Jack or a joint, and someone who’ll ride you like the aliens should’ve ridden those hubcap UFOs.
Sincerely
B.S. Cinephile (The Unapologetic Masochist)
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PS. For a real double feature, pair this with *Flesh Gordon* and a case of Schlitz. Or, a you can watch Brooke Sheilds pay an underage hooker while snorting kitty litter -You’re welcome.
