Prehistoric Women (1950)

You just can’t escape One Million B.C.

Now we all know that a vast number of cheap SF films have pillaged that classic 1940 film for its enthusiastic giant lizard effects, but who in the world would want to make what is virtually a super-cheap remake?

Okay, the details are mildly different.  No “dinosaurs”, for one.  Instead we have a tiger, a puma, an elephant (not disguised as a Woolly Mammoth), and a giant.

But why is it that all these cavewoman films have to be (*shudder*) romances? Is this really the only story it is possible to set back in prehistory?

The weirdest part about this one is the running commentary.  While One Million B.C. was confident enough to have all its dialogue in imaginary Cavemanese and let the action speak for itself, here we have a serious but cheerful narrator explaining everything to us.  It reminds me uncomfortably of those old Disney nature documentaries.

Mind you, it’s just as well it is there.  Otherwise we probably would have no idea what’s going on.  Not that that would hurt a film like this that much.

We do have a sort of feminist theme here, as the members of an all girl tribe try to find suitable — and submissive — mates.  We also get a Tiger getting trapped in a pit, a man running from an elephant, a wrestling match with a puma, and, of course, a cat fight, as the leader of the tribe and one of the other girls fight over who gets the leading man.  

Then there’s that giant.  I’m not sure how tall he really is, as we rarely see him — or perhaps we should say “much of  him” in the same shot with anyone else.  It isn’t too hard to figure out, though, that his huge feet and rather shaggy leggings hide the fact that he’s wearing stilts.

As far as I can see, about the only point of this one is to show off a bunch of girls with impressive bosoms.  And, I suppose, to fill the second half of a double feature.  A certain suspension of disbelief is required however, unless you think that woman invented the cross-your-heart bra before fire and cooking.

This one should not be confused with Hammer’s film of the same name from the height of their Bikini Cave Girl era, in 1967.  While it wasn’t up to their standard, it was miles better than this — and had Martine Beswick as the evil queen.

And that’s guaranteed to liven up any terrible film.

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