Then, in 2000, an unusual opportunity presented itself. I was invited to a birthday party honoring the star of Hand of Death, actor John Agar, an evening scheduled to include a super-rare screening of the elusive Hand of Death. It took some doing, apparently. Fox's legal department seem to think loaning out a VHS dupe of Hand of Death for a single evening was akin to entrusting Tutankhamen to complete strangers.

In truth, Agar was a pretty bad actor, an assessment Agar himself wholeheartedly agreed with, but his long association with two movie genres, science fiction (Revenge of the Creature, Tarantula, The Brain from Planet Arous, etc.) and Westerns (Fort Apache, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon), bred affection over the years. By this point it was difficult to imagine the white-haired old man weakened by emphysema and wearing thick eyeglasses as the early ‘50s alcoholic hell-raiser whose antics, allegedly including beating up first wife Shirley Temple, landed him in the slammer more than once. Agar's life began to turn around when his second wife (from 1951), Loretta, stuck by him through thick and thin (and several more arrests); apparently she was responsible for his strong Christian faith in later years.

So the mood was festive at the Burbank home where several dozen friends and fans had gathered. Already prematurely aged, the guest of honor arrived looking even older, wobblier, and more physically drained than usual. Weakly, his voice cracking with emotion, he revealed that his beloved Loretta, Agar's wife of nearly 50 years, had died that very weekend. Needless to say, everyone in the room suddenly felt awful, but then Agar insisted that the evening should press on as planned. Maybe he didn't want to be alone.

And so after a big birthday cake we all huddled around a modest-sized TV set to watch Hand of Death. It was soon apparent the movie was just the distraction everyone, probably including Agar, needed. Most everyone in the room was anxious to see it, and there was much laughter and genuine admiration directed toward Agar for his willingness to play the movie's ridiculous, physically demanding monster during its last act.

And now, finally, you too can see this forgotten, silly film. Unlike Fox Cinema Archives' The Day Mars Invaded Earth, Hand of Death seems to be a recent 16:9 enhanced video master, and not up-rezzed from a 4:3 letterboxed source.

Dangerously amoral scientist Alex Marsh (Agar), working out of a desert laboratory (a room), believes he's found a non-lethal nerve gas that can be dropped on America's enemies, paralyzing their minds and rendering them susceptible to suggestion, while preserving buildings, etc., thus negating the use of nuclear weapons. Girlfriend Carol (Paula Raymond, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms) and colleague Tom Holland (Stephen Dunne) are somewhat aghast at this new discovery, but blithely unconcerned Marsh insists its benefits outweigh the horrors of such a weapon. In the right hands, that is.

In his zeal to test and perfect his discovery, Marsh accidentally exposes himself to the gas and falls unconscious. The next morning, when he innocently touches his assistant's (John Alonzo) arm, the man falls dead at once. Soon, Marsh himself is physically transformed, his skin darkening and ballooning like overheated, cracked asphalt. He also loses his mind in the process (little time is wasted in this taut, 58-minute thriller) and begins stalking and, occasionally, driving around Malibu and Pacific Palisades, threatening even loveable "third Stooge" Joe Besser ("Hey, not so fataaaal!") and future Eddie Munster Butch Patrick with his death-dealing touch!

Made fast and cheap by uncredited, busy B-producer Robert L. Lippert for his Associated Producers label, a subsidiary of 20th Century-Fox, Hand of Death was one of the very last ‘50s-style sci-fi films. On one, er, hand, the movie is merely going through the motions, borrowing plot elements (and, in the cases of Agar and Raymond, established genre actors) from earlier, better movies. And yet, Hand of Death has its own weird charm, partly because of the talent that hadn't worked in the genre before, and who thus bring to it new if odd little wrinkles, and because of the physical absurdities of the monster Agar's character hath wrought.

Bob Mark's make-up, actually an elaborate rubber mask with rubber hands (with big, stubby fingers; how can he drive?) and lots of padding, is a genuine original. The idea, on guesses, is that Marsh's reaction to the gas is something like an extreme allergic reaction: he swells up like a balloon. The design strongly resembles Fantastic Four founding member "Thing," a character created at just about the same time Hand of Death was filming. (The Fantastic Four #1 debuted in November 1961.) One difference, however, is that Marsh's monster is black, with facial features suggesting a grotesque racial stereotype, and that may have been what made Fox so reluctant to make the movie available for so many decades.

Agar, for his part, gamely wore the hot, heavy costume, mask and gloves, made hotter by Marsh's hilariously ineffective efforts to hide his appearance by donning a slouchy hat and oversized raincoat (in sunny Southern California).

Gene Nelson, former actor-dancer (Oklahoma!), makes his directorial debut here, but viewers would be disappointed if they expected something like a dancer's grace in Agar's acting, pre- or post-monstering. Sonny Burke, who with Peggy Lee wrote the songs for Lady and the Tramp, was an unlikely choice to score the film. It, like Mark's makeup, is unique to the genre and, while not always appropriate to what's onscreen, is at least a bit different.

Video & Audio

Hand of Death was filmed in black-and-white, 2.35:1 CinemaScope (mislabeled as 1.77:1 on the packaging) and Fox's DVD is a pretty decent 16:9 enhanced widescreen presentation. The mono audio, English only with no alternate audio options or subtitles, is fine, and the disc is all-region. No Extra Features.

Parting Thoughts

Cheap but goofily enjoyable, Hand of Death is Recommended for fans of this type of picture.

Stuart Galbraith IV is the Kyoto-based film historian and publisher-editor of World Cinema Paradise. His credits include film history books, DVD and Blu-ray audio commentaries and special features.