• Wide Release
• Director: Victor Trivas
• Written by: Victor Trivas
• Running Time: 97 minutes
• Language: English
• MPAA Rating: PG - Parental Guidance Suggested
• Cast: Horst Frank, Karin Kemke, Helmut Schmid, Paul Dahlke, Dieter Eppler, Kurt Müller-Graf, Michel Simon, Christiane Maybach, Herb Beschanner

          The ethics of science is debated early on by an elderly but progressive Professor Abel (Michael Simon) and his younger, idealistic assistant Walter Burke (Kurt Muller Graf). Abel has only recently perfected a formula called “Serum Z” which can miraculously keep the head alive even without the body – a trick made real in 1928 by a Soviet scientist named Sergei Brukhonenko, who, with a machine he invented called an “autojector”, was able to keep a dog’s head alive minus its body. Like Brukhonenko, Abel has also experimented on a dog, something of which he modestly references.

          The research hasn’t sat well with the good doctor Walter who suggests that such experimentation is an abomination – a tragic misuse of science. Working part-time as a nurse for Abel is Walter’s cousin, Irene, a beautiful but severely hunchbacked ingénue. Abel bleeds for Irene’s situation and feels compelled to operate on her, something her cousin vehemently protests. Walter fears that such surgery would be reckless and only result in tragedy. Interestingly, as Abel and Irene mini-conference in his office, a stranger has arrived, popping up from the shadows of the bushes and listening in from an outside window under the moonlight – a first glimpse of the expressionistic ambience brought to this piece thanks to Hermann Warm (1920’s “The Cabinet of Dr Caligari”). The man is named Dr. Ood (Frank Horst) and he has arrived at the wishes of Abel, who sent for him. Ood is a strange fellow, a worldly type, with thick bushy wolfish eyebrows, piercing sinister eyes and a pale, almost ghostly, complexion, not to mention, an off-putting demeanor best articulated by imdb poster, Hitchcoc, when he wrote, "this kind of German Aryan thing going on. I can't quite put my finger on it." In keeping, Ood claims that he got his name from a shipwrecked boat, the S. S. Ood, where his parents died. Although he is clearly distinguished as the ‘mad doctor’ of our story, he transmits ‘wolfman’ early on while alone in his room, reeling in agony under the coruscate of the full moon.

          Right away Walter senses that there’s something odd about Ood (sorry, I had to) but Abel heeds him no mind as he requires Ood’s surgical expertise to do a little organ transplanting – his own. Abel has a bad heart and after rounding up a debilitated car crash victim, the plan is to have Ood do surgery to transplant the donor’s heart into Abel’s body. Sounds simple enough except that the donor dies right before the surgery is to commence which immediately prompts Walter to conclude the operation a failure. As he readies himself to call the authorities to come and retrieve the donor’s body, Ood lines out another alternative. With the help of some sharp operating utensils, a shovel and a shallow ditch, he’s able to remove Walter from the scene permanently. The operation goes ahead as planned and, as Walter had foreseen, it is unsuccessful – the heart doesn’t take. In a last ditch effort, and a cool point of irony, Ood uses the Professor’s own Serum Z on him, making him the symbolic dog by chopping off his head and keeping it alive in what appears to be an enlarged aquarium.

         As Abel awakens slowly to his new reality, he is quite horrified when Ood props up a mirror in front of him, showing him firsthand the abhorrence that he has become, made feasible by the science he so passionately fought for. At this point in the film, two minor subplots, one involving a stripper and another, the deformed nurse, Irene, both introduced earlier on in the piece with little exposition, slowly intersect, and make up what will constitute the film’s remaining half. For whatever reason, be it obsession or love, Ood finds himself drawn to Irene, Walter’s deformed cousin, who has been doting around asking about her suddenly missing relative. Ood, fully aware of her and Abel’s arrangements, thanks to his earlier voyeuristic undertaking, pushes her to let him perform the surgery. Irene is, at first, put off by the strange looking Ood, but thanks to his perseverance and some coerced reassurance from Professor Abel from an intercom, the surgery is eventually scheduled. Ood begins frequenting a local strip club called the Tam Tam Club, where he meets up with an old friend, Lily (Christiane Maybach) – the stripper so unceremoniously introduced in the film’s first half. As it turns out, a few years ago, Lily (then called Stella) poisoned her husband and Dr. Brandt performed some unlicensed facial reconstruction on her, which allowed her to head out on the lamb. Dr. Brandt changed his named to Dr. Ood and in time got himself a license to practice medicine. As Ood gets friendlier with Lily, it only works to nag at Lily’s boyfriend, Paul Lerner (Dietter Eppler), the son of a well-respected judge. However, Ood’s sudden interest in Lily has less to do with romance and more to do with a need to facilitate as problem he’s having. See, he wants something from Lily, more specifically, he needs a body to transfer Irene's head onto and since Lily has the body of a dancer -- a feature dancer -- and since Ood regards her with the kind of haughtiness of an S.S. Officer, you know Lily’s a goner.

          After the surgery, Irene quickly discovers that she likes her new beautiful body but for some reason, it doesn’t feel right. Ood assures her that she’s been in a coma for three months and that he’s had to tediously rejuvenate each and every cell. Irene’s no dummy though and after stumbling upon some items in Ood’s cellar, namely some clothing and a purse belonging to a girl she met on the night of the surgery, she slowly begins to piece things together. She inexplicably finds herself drawn to the Tam Tam Club, where she meets up with Paul, who informs her that the girl, Lily, died three months earlier, a tragic victim of a train accident. As the pieces begin to fall into place, Paul eventually establishes himself as the reluctant hero, something that feels almost manufactured, in hindsight. Strangely ironic, the climax of the film features Ood, not Irene, or the police, deciding his fate. Even in death, Ood gets the last laugh.

          As I stated earlier, “The Head” has a distinct look that harkens back to the heyday of German expressionist cinema, thanks mainly to Hermann Warm, who came out of retirement to work on the film. From the haunting shadows, long shady corridors, withered trees, spider web like foliage, and dungeon like rooms, the film seems perfectly adapted from the UFA studio filmmaking style. The film also makes note of Western cinema figures, namely various monsters including the Hunchback, the Werewolf and even Frankenstein. The mad doctor clearly seems spawned Dr. Henry Frankenstein himself. The cool irony is that James Whale, the man who directed Frankenstein for Universal Studios in 1931, is said to have been influenced by German silent cinema. Because of its exploitative sounding title, “The Head” is often lumped in with the rest of the ‘mad doctor’ sci-fi schlock produced in the 1950’s and 60’s, but that’s not altogether warranted. “The Head” is actually quite a well made film that will leave the viewer feeling as though they haven’t wasted their time – something that can’t be said for many of the others. "The Head (aka Nackte und der Satan, Die)" can be purchased at Amazon.com and from Mill Creek Entertainment.