Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women - 1968
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If you thought Roger Corman’s two-day shoots were peak efficiency, Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women (1968) represents an even more audacious form of cinematic alchemy: the "Frankenstein" film. Directed by a young Peter Bogdanovich under the pseudonym Derek Thomas, the movie is a repurposed edit of the 1962 Soviet sci-fi film Planeta Bur, which had already been hacked apart once before by American International Pictures to create Voyage to the Prehistoric Planet. This version, however, adds a layer of quintessential 1960s kitsch by filming entirely new footage of blonde, telepathic sirens living on the surface of Venus and intercutting it with the existing Russian footage of space explorers.
The narrative is a disjointed but fascinating collision of two worlds. On one hand, you have the high-quality, technically impressive Soviet footage involving a group of cosmonauts (renamed for American audiences), a lumbering robot named John, and a desperate survival mission on a hostile planet filled with pterodactyls and lizard-men. On the other hand, Bogdanovich weaves in the "Prehistoric Women"—a tribe of platinum-blonde Venusians led by Mamie Van Doren. These women spend most of their screen time lounging around rocky shores, communicating via voiceover telepathy, and worshipping a pterodactyl god. They observe the astronauts from afar, viewing the "men from the stars" as a divine but destructive force.
The film’s charm—and its absurdity—lies in the complete lack of physical interaction between the two casts. Because the footage was shot years and continents apart, the astronauts and the Venusians never actually share the same frame. This creates a strange, dreamlike disconnect that inadvertently turns the film into a meditation on perspective. To the men, Venus is a deathtrap to be conquered and escaped; to the women, it is a sacred home being desecrated by alien invaders. The contrast between the serious, heavy-set Soviet production design and the breezy, low-budget California beach footage creates a jarring aesthetic that is pure "midnight movie" fodder.
Ultimately, Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women is a testament to the era of predatory distribution and creative recycling. It is a movie that shouldn't work—and arguably doesn't as a cohesive narrative—yet it remains a mesmerizing artifact of film history. It showcases Bogdanovich’s early ability to craft a story out of thin air and Mamie Van Doren’s status as a cult icon. While the Soviet original is objectively the "better" film, this version is a psychedelic relic of 1960s drive-in culture, capturing a moment when space exploration and beach-party aesthetics could be clumsily, yet endearingly, stitched together.
The narrative is a disjointed but fascinating collision of two worlds. On one hand, you have the high-quality, technically impressive Soviet footage involving a group of cosmonauts (renamed for American audiences), a lumbering robot named John, and a desperate survival mission on a hostile planet filled with pterodactyls and lizard-men. On the other hand, Bogdanovich weaves in the "Prehistoric Women"—a tribe of platinum-blonde Venusians led by Mamie Van Doren. These women spend most of their screen time lounging around rocky shores, communicating via voiceover telepathy, and worshipping a pterodactyl god. They observe the astronauts from afar, viewing the "men from the stars" as a divine but destructive force.
The film’s charm—and its absurdity—lies in the complete lack of physical interaction between the two casts. Because the footage was shot years and continents apart, the astronauts and the Venusians never actually share the same frame. This creates a strange, dreamlike disconnect that inadvertently turns the film into a meditation on perspective. To the men, Venus is a deathtrap to be conquered and escaped; to the women, it is a sacred home being desecrated by alien invaders. The contrast between the serious, heavy-set Soviet production design and the breezy, low-budget California beach footage creates a jarring aesthetic that is pure "midnight movie" fodder.
Ultimately, Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women is a testament to the era of predatory distribution and creative recycling. It is a movie that shouldn't work—and arguably doesn't as a cohesive narrative—yet it remains a mesmerizing artifact of film history. It showcases Bogdanovich’s early ability to craft a story out of thin air and Mamie Van Doren’s status as a cult icon. While the Soviet original is objectively the "better" film, this version is a psychedelic relic of 1960s drive-in culture, capturing a moment when space exploration and beach-party aesthetics could be clumsily, yet endearingly, stitched together.
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