In 1973, the first manned expedition to Mars is marooned; by the time a rescue mission arrives, there is only one survivor: the leader, Col. Edward Carruthers, who appears to have murdered the others! According to Carruthers, an unknown life form killed his comrades during a sandstorm. But the skeptical rescuers little suspect that "it" has stowed away for the voyage back to Earth...Written by
Rod Crawford <email@example.com>
Italian censorship visa # 29288 delivered on 20-5-1959. See more »
The spaceship's different floors are never in order. For
instance, Keinholz is on the top floor; he goes down one floor, looks around, then goes down another floor. This floor is the one with Carruthers and Eric playing chess. After Carruthers hears a scream he goes up the ladder to ask Keinholz if he had heard the noise; Carruthers peaks out of the hatch and is on the top floor, skipping the second floor Keinholz had to go through. See more »
Spokesman at Press Conference:
Ladies and gentlemen of the press: As you know, the first attempt to send a spaceship to the planet Mars was made six months ago. We knew that that ship, the Challenge 141, had reached its destination, but that's all we knew. Teleradio communication with Mars ceased immediately and we were forced to assume that the ship and crew had been lost. The man in charge of this expedition was a man who had become known to the world as the first man to be shot into space, the man who ...
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I haven't seen this movie in 46 years, but the thing I remember about it is the fact that I was so terrified watching it, at nine years of age at the Lincoln Theatre in Kearny, NJ, that I had to leave before it ended. I didn't sleep well for many nights after that.
There was a scene I remember where a crew member opened an air duct access hatch (or what, as I recall now, looked like one), and a hand fell down in front of him, obviously belonging to a dead colleague of his. The creature had stuffed the body in the ductwork. That was all I could take. I threw my comic book (I always bought one for 10 cents on my way to the movies on Saturday afternoons. My mom would give me 35 cents, 10 for the comic and a quarter for the double feature with cartoons in between) up in front of my face so I couldn't see, and ran up the center aisle, out the doors, and away from that horror. I saw just about every monster/horror/sci-fi movie made in the 1950's on one or another of those wonderful Saturdays at the Lincoln Theatre, and the only other one that made me run out was House on Haunted Hill.
What I wouldn't give for another chance to see two movies and three cartoons for a quarter, through the unjaded eyes of a nine-year old boy, still able to be scared out of my wits by a guy in a rubber suit.
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