Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes: "Octodeathopus: The Legend of Lobo"

How did Lobo become Lobo? Strap in, pally, and you'll find out.

NOTE: This article continues my coverage of Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes and Rubber Octopus Dreams (Arcane Shadows Press, 2024).

The story: "Octodeathopus: The Legend of Lobo" by J. "Doc Dread" Murray

Synopsis: In 1904, presumably somewhere in Eastern Europe, twin brothers Otto and Joseph Javorsky (aged four) are wrestling in front of their family's cottage when Otto is suddenly scooped up by a caravan of passing gypsies. Otto becomes part of the gypsies' traveling show and eventually takes the place of a wrestling bear named Lobo when that animal passes away. He even assumes Lobo's name as his own. By 1927, however, they decide to trade Lobo to a group of Tibetans in exchange for supplies. The Tibetans use Lobo as a beast of burden.

Lobo's brother. See the resemblance?

In 1945, the now-grown Joseph Javorsky works on the top-secret Atomic Super Man project with fellow scientists Dr. Eric Vornoff and Professor Strowski. But the project is suddenly canceled by the government in 1946, and Vornoff is forced to flea. His goal is to make it to the United States to continue his work, but he first heads to Tibet. There, he is amazed to find a man he initially thinks is Joseph Javorsky but is actually Joseph's twin brother, Otto aka Lobo. Vornoff soon makes Lobo his obedient servant. They travel together and pick up an octopus at a market in Shanghai. 

In 1947, with the octopus in tow and growing larger all the time, Vornoff and Lobo head for America aboard a rusted-out freighter. Along the way, they kill the ship's captain and loot the strongbox. By October 1948, they have settled in Lake Marsh, California, and Vornoff resumes his work. Lobo and Vornoff haven't been living in the area long when they fatally run over an old widower in their car. The incident is investigated by a local cop, Officer Kelton. Vornoff is somewhat distressed by this, but he is excited that he's found a house, the Old Willows Place, that is perfect for his experiments. It even has a perfect pond for his octopus.

Flash forward to 1955. Local newspaper reporter Janet Lawton tells of her horrific experiences at the Old Willows Place, where Dr. Vornoff tried to use her and her fiancé, policeman Dick Craig, in his dreadful medical experiments. Luckily, they managed to escape when the place went up in flames and Vornoff was killed by his own octopus. But the story is not over! Both Lobo and the octopus manage to survive. And Joseph Javorsky, still very much alive, arrives by plane in America at a place called Yucca Flats to begin a new project.

Excerpt:

The octopus has grown since we've boarded this old, rusted freighter. It seems there is an endless supply of rats aboard this vessel. The octopus leaves its tank and hunts our quarters at night. The captain is a drunk and has found a shipping container of fine vodka. In a drunken stupor he told me where the ship's strong box is and the treasures it contains. No one will be surprised should he fall overboard.

Reflections: "Octodeathopus" is yet another story in Warm Angora Wishes that draws heavily upon Ed Wood's Bride of the Monster (1955) and Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957) and attempts to weave these films into a larger narrative, along with several other sci-fi and horror films of the era. For me, the real stroke of genius here is the revelation that Lobo, Tor Johnson's character from Bride, is the twin brother of Dr. Joseph Javorsky, the doomed Soviet scientist that Tor played in Coleman Francis' The Beast of Yucca Flats (1961). Apparently, Lobo's real name was Otto, and he and Joseph grew up together until Otto was plucked up by some passing gypsies at the age of four. Come to think of it, those guys do look a lot alike.

I was also highly amused to learn that it was Lobo who actually ran over Bela Lugosi's unfortunate Ghoul Man character from Plan 9. It seems that Dr. Eric Vornoff unwisely allowed his hulking manservant to drive that day. Whoops! Later in the story, author J. "Doc Dread" Murray includes a clever reference to It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955). The giant octopus from that film, we learn, is actually Vornoff's beloved pet. It lost a couple of tentacles in the explosion at the end of Bride, which is why it only has six arms in Beneath the Sea. The timing on this could not have been better, since MeTV's Svengoolie just showed It Came from Beneath the Sea a few weeks ago, meaning that film was still fairly fresh in my mind.

With a title like "Octodeathopus," you can tell that this story is not taking itself seriously at all. It's just a fun little bit of speculative fan fiction that will probably be incomprehensible to anyone outside the Ed Wood fan community. But if you're an active part of that community and have seen Eddie's 1950s films dozens of times, to the point where the characters have taken up permanent residence in your brain, J. "Doc Dread" Murray's strange tale should be quite a pleasant little diversion.

Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes: "Children of the Sun"

This story emphasizes the vampiric nature of Vampira.

NOTE: This article continues my coverage of Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes and Rubber Octopus Dreams (Arcane Shadows Press, 2024).

The story: "Children of the Sun" by Joe Overbay

Dracula's brides from the 1931 film.

Synopsis: Vanessa Davis, an ex-NASA test pilot turned secret agent, is piloting a propeller plane to Romania as part of her latest dangerous mission. Her passenger is a mysterious, powerful man she has only recently met named Anton Voytek. For this mission, they are both using codenames. His is Lucifer; hers is Vampira. Over the Transylvanian Alps, the plane runs into bad weather and has to land. When Vanessa looks at Anton in the mirror, she realizes to her horror that he casts no reflection. Once the plane is on the ground, Vanessa tries to outrun Anton but to no avail. He soon overpowers her.

Some time later, Vanessa wakes up in a coffin in a remote chateau. She opens a curtain, only to be burned by sunlight. She is greeted by Diana, another female vampire under Anton's control. Vanessa soon realizes what she has become. Her life now revolves around hunting human beings and drinking their blood. Whenever she can, she lashes out at Anton and the other vampires in his "brood," but she is generally unsuccessful because she herself has the same weaknesses they do. She does manage to impale Diana, but Anton proves impossible to kill.

Eventually, with numerous vampires following her, Vanessa makes it back to her plane and even manages to take off. Anton takes the form of a bat and pursues her. They have an epic battle in the air, ending when Vanessa crashes the plane. Unfortunately, when the smoke clears, it is Anton who survives. He declares Vanessa to be a worthy adversary and sends her mortal remains back to her hometown of Oakdale, CA. Back home, Vanessa's elderly husband attends her funeral but is so grief-stricken that he himself wanders into traffic and is killed. Soon after, aliens begin to invade the earth as part of an initiative called Plan 9.

Excerpt:

She tried to fight him, but she just couldn't. To this moment her life mind and soul were hers alone to command, and the agency had invested long years training her to keep her that way she's been judged resistant to almost all forms of external persuasion. But this was different. Anton, this vampire, was inside her mind, and there was no damn way she could keep him out. In a moment, he knew her innermost thoughts, of her dreams, all the private things that she cherished. In a moment she was mind raped and in the end she was his.

Reflections: As I've made my way through Warm Angora Wishes, I've occasionally found myself wondering what would happen if someone totally unfamiliar with Ed Wood's films picked up this book and started leafing through it. How would that happen? Maybe, years from now, a copy turns up at a used bookshop, and the cover catches a shopper's attention. Would such a reader be able to make any sense of it? Or does the reader have to have at least a passing knowledge of Ed's 1950s films, particularly Bride of the Monster (1955) and Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957) to be able to enjoy this anthology?

Take "Children of the Sun" as an example. Now, there is plenty here to entertain the average reader of genre fiction, regardless of that person's level of familiarity with Ed Wood. At heart, this is a horror story that emphasizes the punishing physical and mental tortures of being a vampire. Vampirism is often romanticized in film and literature, so it was strangely refreshing to read Joe Overbay's brutal, unappetizing take on the lifestyle—which is basically like being a junkie, but a thousand times worse. And all of this is set against a backdrop of Cold War intrigue, complete with plenty of tense, high-flying action sequences. The author is mashing up a couple of popular genres in this story, so there's something for everybody... theoretically.

But what is the uninitiated reader to make of the early, totally-out-of-nowhere reference to UFOs? Or the mention of someone called Dr. Eric Vornoff? Or the fact that, in the final paragraphs of this story, the setting suddenly switches from Transylvania to California and involves aliens invading the earth? My guess is that these aspects of the story would be very, very confusing to an outsider. That's not a problem, necessarily. It's just something that's been on my mind. Maybe that's the secret gift of Ed Wood; as a muse, he lets you make imaginative leaps you might not otherwise dare.

Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes: "Spyang Ki Chung 'Little Wolf'"

This story shows us what Lobo was like before he hit the big time.

NOTE: This article continues my coverage of Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes and Rubber Octopus Dreams (Arcane Shadows Press, 2024).

The story: "Spyang Ki Chung 'Little Wolf'" by Adkov Telmig

A monastery in Western Tibet.

Synopsis: Exiled Russian scientist Dr. Eric Vornoff scavenges in the desolate Western Plateau of Tibet. He is fully aware that agents from his home country are after him, and he nearly succumbs from the harsh weather and the heavy equipment he is lugging around. Luckily, he is rescued by a caravan of nomads and taken to a small mining town. In a largely deserted monastery, Vornoff meets and (after a fashion) befriends a three-foot-tall monk known as Little Wolf. Vornoff and Little Wolf visit a local market to buy food. There, Vornoff sees a man with some of the valuable uranium he desperately needs for his experiments. The man agrees to bring Vornoff plenty of uranium in exchange for a large sum of money.

With Little Wolf's help, Vornoff is granted permission from an aged monk to set up his equipment and perform his experiments within the monastery. He says he will use atomic power to create a race of supermen. When the man from the marketplace shows up with the promised uranium, Vornoff casually shoots and kills him. When Little Wolf asks him why he did this, Vornoff replies that he has no money but needed the uranium to continue his work. What else was he supposed to do? Little Wolf then asks to be part of Vornoff's experiment. Vornoff tells his companion that it will be painful but that he will emerge from the experience more powerful than he has ever been.

Two enemy agents, identified only as the Cold Men, show up at the monastery in their relentless hunt for the exiled scientist. Vornoff does not seem terribly concerned by their arrival because he now has a powerful bodyguard: Little Wolf, now supersized and mute. The formerly-diminutive monk makes quick work of the Cold Men, literally tearing their bodies apart. Vornoff decides that Little Wolf's name no longer suits him. From now on, he shall be called Lobo.

Excerpt:

A small detachment of Tibetan soldiers kept wary watch on the scrofulous lot. They stood in tight groups, warming their hands over fires in metal barrels. They stood out in their uniforms and furred hats. All of them seemed to smoke thin stick-like, oily-looking black cigarettes. They eyed Vornoff suspiciously, but none of them had questioned him or asked him for papers. It wasn’t the kind of town where questions were common. This was a good thing for Dr. Vornoff who had by now crossed four or five borders without the benefit of any official passports or permits.

Sardu and Ralphus: best friends.

Reflections: When I first downloaded my copy of Warm Angora Wishes from Amazon, I skimmed through it a little, just to get the lay of the land. I casually noticed that one story was about how Dr. Eric Vornoff (Bela Lugosi) and his mute henchman Lobo (Tor Johnson) from Bride of the Monster (1955) originally met in "the wilderness of Tibet." Someone had taken that throwaway line from the movie and made a whole prequel out of it. But I didn't want to spoil the story for myself, so I merely glanced at a few sentences and moved on. I suppose I was anticipating something like the story of how the Lone Ranger met Tonto. My curiosity level was at roughly six out of ten; prequels have a tendency to overexplain things that were better left unknown.

I could not have predicted anything like "Spyang Ki Chung," which is easily one of the strangest and most intriguing stories I've read so far in this collection. Obviously, the story has an outrageous central gimmick, i.e. that the huge, lumbering Lobo was once a dwarf in a monastery and that it was Vornoff who made him a giant. It's exactly the kind of imaginative leap you'd hope to find in an Ed Wood-inspired anthology. But what really makes the story memorable are its descriptive passages about Tibet. This is a land about which I know virtually nothing, so I was fascinated by the author's evocative yet unsentimental prose about the land and its people. "Spyang Ki Chung" is the first story in this collection to remind me of Cormac McCarthy. I wager it'll be the last, too.

This story also got me thinking about villains with dwarf sidekicks. That seems to be a semi-common trope in fiction, but I'm hard-pressed to think of good examples. Let's see. There's Sardu and Ralphus in Bloodsucking Freaks (1976), Dr. Evil and Mini-Me in The Spy Who Shagged Me (1999), and Livia and the Imp in The Undead (1957). Didn't Hordak also have an imp on She-Ra (1985-1987)? Mr. Roarke on Fantasy Island (1977-1984) was more mysterious than evil, so he doesn't count. Do Jabba the Hutt and Salacious Crumb from Return of the Jedi (1983) count? Maybe Salacious isn't a dwarf among his own kind, but he's dwarfed by Jabba.

Come to think of it, this might not be that common a trope.

Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes: "The Return of Martin Crandle"

Finally, your favorite Ed Wood character has returned!

NOTE: This article continues my coverage of Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes and Rubber Octopus Dreams (Arcane Shadows Press, 2024).

The story: "The Return of Martin Crandle" by Everett Dudgeon

Synopsis: Juvenile delinquent Paula Parkins and her young partners in crime, Phyllis and Geraldine, are on the run from the law and looking for a place to hide as a nasty storm approaches. They've been committing robberies and murders and have lost some members of their gang in the process. They now approach a foreboding swamp called Lake Marsh. Phyllis expresses concerns about going anywhere near "that place," but Paula willfully ignores her.

Meanwhile, at police headquarters, Captain Robbins and Sgt. Martin Crandle discuss the recent crime wave. Martin is shocked to hear that Robbins suspects local girl Paula Parkins is to blame, since Martin knows that Paula comes from a respectable family. Martin is also disturbed to hear that Paula and her girls are headed to Lake Marsh. That location holds some painful memories: Martin's ex-partner, Dick, and Dick's fiancée, Janet, were so traumatized at Lake Marsh that they may as well be dead. Martin reluctantly agrees to go to Lake Marsh to save Paula and the girls from a similar fate.

Back at the swamp, Paula decides to park her car before it gets hopelessly stuck in the mud. She and the girls will continue on foot, and Paula doesn't want to hear any nonsense about "monsters." They trudge through the swamp, hoping to make it to a cemetery on the other side. Paula is more scared than she lets on. Finally, she and the girls are stunned to see the Old Willows Place, a house that was supposedly destroyed several years ago.

Martin travels to Lake Marsh, driven by Sgt. Dan Bradford, with whom he does not get along particularly well. They almost hit someone or something but narrowly avoid an accident. Not far away, Paula and the girls explore the outside of the house and are shocked when the front door opens by itself. Geraldine and Phyllis are reluctant to enter, but Paula insists that the house will at least offer them shelter. Martin and Bradford bumble their way through the swamp and finally find the Old Willows Place. Phyllis is trembling outside, her hair white with fear. Despite Bradford's warning, Martin enters the house himself.

Excerpt:

Marty pulled the chesterfield from his mouth and held his face in his hands as Robbins continued about how Marty wouldn’t be alone and how someone else was going to be at the cemetery nearby in case the girls wanted to sneak in there. Marty wasn’t really listening though-everything was muffled. All he could think of was if he was going to end up like Dick. 

Reflections: To be honest, I had never paid much attention to Martin, a plainclothesman played earnestly by Don Nagel in Bride of the Monster (1955). Keep in mind, I once wrote a whole article about the sassy file clerk from that same film, but somehow I'd never given Nagel's character a second thought. I mean, what does this guy even do in the movie? Well, he shows up about half an hour into it to serve as a sidekick to the hero, Lt. Dick Craig (Tony McCoy). I suspect Martin exists mainly to give Dick someone to talk to during the middle passages of the movie, sort of like how Disney princesses are often given animal sidekicks to act as sounding boards. But Martin sticks around for the rest of the movie, even after he's separated from Dick Craig, and is present if not prominent during the story's chaotic, action-packed conclusion.

A Brigadoon from hell.

Honestly, Martin gets a decent chunk of screen time in Bride of the Monster, more than I'd remembered. He smokes, drinks coffee, grumbles about his dislike of the swamp, stands around, and banters good-naturedly if wearily with his partner. Later, when Dick is taken prisoner by the deranged Dr. Eric Vornoff (Bela Lugosi), Martin joins forces with some other cops, including Capt. Robbins (Harvey B. Dunn) and Officer Kelton (Paul Marco), to search the Old Willows Place and the surrounding area. Don Nagel plays a similar cop character in Night of the Ghouls (1959), the direct sequel to Bride, though he's referred to as Crandle in that film. It's reasonable to assume that Martin and Crandle are the same guy: a competent if unremarkable police officer who helps round out the cast.

And now, thanks to author Everett Dudgeon, we have Martin as the central character in his own story. Or half of his own story, anyway. He shares the stage with Paula and the gals from The Violent Years (1956), and the author makes references to numerous other films along the way. Paula, for instance, is a big fan of gangster Vic Brady from Jail Bait (1954), and she and her gals contemplate the pros and cons of working for smut peddler Johnny Ride from The Sinister Urge (1960). In many ways, this story feels like a companion piece to "The Violent Urge" by Brian Carney, which tied some of Ed Wood's crime thrillers together into a "Delinquiverse."

What sets "The Return of Martin Crandle" apart from Carney's story is its supernatural Gothic elements, specifically the use of the Old Willows Place, the weather-beaten mansion where Dr. Eric Vornoff carried out his unspeakable experiments before an atomic explosion brought it all to an end. The large, decaying house magically reappears out of the ether in this story, much like the quaint Scottish village did in Brigadoon (1954). But it took that village a century to reconstitute itself, and the Willows Place manages the same feat in just a few years. So it's more like Microwave Brigadoon or Brigadoon-2-Go.

In all seriousness, Everett Dudgeon is to be congratulated for creating some genuinely spooky atmosphere in this story. The Old Willows Place is a central location in two of Ed Wood's movies, and it's a source of great fascination for all Wood fans. But it's rarely been as imposing or as threatening as it is in this story. Here, it seems like a portal into hell itself.

Podcast Tuesday: "Throw Out Your Hands, Stick Out Your Tush"

The Three Musketeers confront Fonzie on The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang.

In 1981, ABC gave The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang a second season, bringing the series' overall episode total to 24. That may not sound terribly impressive, but it's pretty good for a Saturday morning series of this vintage. Let me put this in perspective. Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? (1969-1970)—a beloved series that launched a lucrative multimedia empire, let's not forget—ran for only 25 episodes. Other classic HB series, like Jabberjaw (1976) and Hong Kong Phooey (1974), only got one season apiece. 

A game-changer at NBC.

And this phenomenon wasn't limited to just Hanna-Barbera. Sid and Marty Krofft's signature series, H.R. Pufnstuf, ran just 17 episodes. In those days, networks tended to order just a handful of episodes of children's shows, then rerun those episodes over and over for years. I say all of this because I want people to stop saying The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang was a failure because it didn't run 100 episodes. It did remarkably well, in fact.

However, on September 12, 1981 (my sixth birthday, incidentally), NBC debuted a Saturday morning series that would definitely buck the trend: The Smurfs (1981-1989). Peyo's iconic little blue creatures had been extremely popular in Europe for years, even getting their own movie and topping the UK pop charts, but they didn't hit in America until they got their own Hanna-Barbera series in the '80s. They quickly made up for lost time, however, and The Smurfs became a naitionwide pop culture sensation. And NBC didn't just make a small handful of episodes this time. They let the show run for nine seasons and 256 episodes. That's one more episode than the live-action Happy Days (1974-1984).

As it happens, the first episode of The Smurfs aired opposite the second season premiere of The Fonz and the Happy Days Gang. The latter is a Three Musketeers parody called "The French Correction." And that's exactly the episode we're reviewing on this week's installment of These Days Are Ours: A Happy Days Podcast. Check it out below!

Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes: "Best Laid Plans"

A tattooed rooster is just part of "Best Laid Plans."

NOTE: This article continues my coverage of Ed Wood's Warm Angora Wishes and Rubber Octopus Dreams (Arcane Shadows Press, 2024).

The story: "Best Laid Plans" by R.S. Butler

The mourners of Plan 9.

Synopsis: Aboard Space Station 7, orbiting somewhere in the cosmos, the alien ruler Reagor laments the failure of Plan 9. Some members of his race had visited Earth and had used electrodes to bring several dead earthlings back to life: an old man named Mora, his wife Luna, and a police officer named Inspector Clay. The goal had been to frighten the earthlings into submission and thus prevent them from developing a deadly weapon called Solaronite. But the plan, led by aliens Eros and Tanna, had been a disaster. Both Eros and Tanna had been killed, their ship had exploded, and the three zombies they'd managed to create had all been destroyed.

Reagor's chief scientist, Daco, demonstrates how he has already cloned the zombie police officer, Inspector Clay. Reagor is pleased by this and imagines a whole army of Clay zombies with which he could easily conquer Earth. The alien ruler then meets with Alros, who is taking over the mission that his late brother Eros started. Alros reports that he will now use Plan 13, which involves turning humans into animals, and states that he will initiate this plan in San Fernando, CA, the same town that had been the focal point of Plan 9.

Meanwhile, in San Fernando, a human couple named Alvin and Sylvia Houser are awaiting the arrival of Sylvia's freeloading Uncle Stanley. Al and Sylvia are the same couple who attended Mora's funeral and discovered the bodies of the gravediggers at the local cemetery. (From the Housers' conversation, we learn that Mora and Luna were actors, which is why they were buried in vampire costumes.) There is a flash of bright light outside the house, and they discover a rooster with a Marine tattoo in Uncle Stanley's car. Stanley himself, however, seems to be missing. 

The next morning, the Housers are stunned to see numerous strange animals wandering the streets of their neighborhood. Some of these creatures are wearing familiar items of clothing, leading the Housers to believe that human beings are being turned into animals. A strange beeping sound compels them to visit the nearby cemetery, where they discover a flying saucer. By remote control, Alros zaps Alvin with various painful rays but fails to turn him into an animal. The aliens declare Plan 13 a failure and depart, leaving the Housers to tell their strange story to the police officers who have arrived on the scene.

Back at Space Station 7, Alros reports to Reagor that Plan 13 has also failed. He says the aliens should now follow Plan Zero, which involves doing nothing whatsoever. Through their pollution and unhealthy habits, the earthlings will destroy themselves long before they get around to inventing Solaronite. Reagor is very pleased to hear this.

Excerpt:

"Very well, Your Excellency," responded Alros. "We at first tried Plan 11 where we turned off their power and then intermittently turned on a light at one house or a light at another and so on. They each thought each other was the cause of the goings on and soon each one was bitted against each other. As an experiment we targeted one of their streets, Maple Street, I believe. The results were very favorable." 

Rhinoceros (1974)

Reflections: After a brief and welcome detour into Ed Wood's crime thrillers, Warm Angora Wishes returns to familiar territory with "Best Laid Plans." This is yet another story set in the universe of Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957), and, like most of the others, it has the word "plan" right in the title. It also speculates about what the aliens' other plans might have been, as "Plan  9.1 from Outer Space" did just two stories ago. So how do I make this interesting for myself?

Back in 1959—the same year Plan 9 finally achieved commercial release—a Romanian-French playwright named Eugene Ionesco debuted his three-act play Rhinoceros. Intended as a commentary on the rise of fascism and conformity run amok, it tells the story of a French town where the citizens start turning into rhinos until only one human is left. I mostly know this play through a very strange 1974 film adaptation starring Gene Wilder and Zero Mostel of The Producers (1967). When the good people of San Fernando started turning into animals in "Best Laid Plans," I thought of poor, overwhelmed Gene Wilder dealing with the rhino infestation.

This story also reminded me a bit of The Metamorphosis (1915) by Franz Kafka. That novella centers around a lowly German office clerk, Gregor Samsa, who transforms into a giant insect overnight. What makes the story darkly funny is the fact that Gregor's most pressing concern is how his monstrous transformation will affect his dull job. He and his family are still fixated on mundane, day-to-day realities despite the incredible, impossible event that has happened in their lives. 

There's a similar feeling to certain passages of "Best Laid Plans." Alvin Houser's neighbors have turned into zoo animals, and he speculates how this will impact his daily commute. Should he call into work and tell them he's going to be late?  Part of the fun of a short story like this is seeing how average people react to extraordinary events that could only happen in science-fiction. Speaking of which, kudos to author R.S. Butler for tying Plan 9 from Outer Space into the same universe as the famed Twilight Zone episode "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street" (1960).

P.S. Rhinoceros has a less-than-sterling critical reputation, which is understandable. It's a difficult film to get used to and makes a poor first impression, largely because of the highly stylized way in which it is written and acted. But I think the film has a lot to recommend it, especially if you enjoyed Wilder and Mostel in The Producers. I would tell people not to go into Rhinoceros expecting a naturalistic, "normal" viewing experience. It's closer in tone to a Kafka story crossed with a Monty Python sketch. Give it a shot someday.