Step One: Go to www.random.org.
Step Two: Pick a Number.
Step Three: GET WEIRD!
Manos: The Hands of Fate
It's Shocking! It's Beyond Your Imagination!
A family gets lost on the road and stumbles upon a hidden, underground, devil-worshiping cult led by the fearsome Master and his servant Torgo.
Stripped of annoying wisecracking robots this is not only an inscrutable piece of anti-cinema but also a glorious piece of accidental outsider art, an unnerving, arrhythmic ocean of crummy tinkly jazz, desolate sets, murky shadows, and weird Freudian sex panic misogyny. Awkward shot lengths and jump cuts, blurred focus, and stilted out-of-sync-dialogue merge into this sustained, ugly seepage of dread, inadvertently conjured by sheer ineptitude and a spring-wound 16mm camera's operational idiosyncrasies.
Disgraceful, humorless and just dismal, this atrocity whose technical achievements only just barely meet that of a "film" is just the all time lowest of the low. It is and forever will be a mystery to me as to how Manos: The Hands of Fate (translated: Hands: The Hands of Fate) is commonly grouped with the terrifically bad film genre or known by most as the so-bad-it's-good genre. The genre by which the likes of The Room, Plan 9 From Outer Space and Troll 2 belong, is a genre known for "fun" and "good fun" and even "joy," Manos; or Hands is none of these things.
Manos is campless, joyless, void of fun, and spawn of pain and cinematic torture.…
“I am Torgo. I take care of the place while the Master is away.”
It was the very witching time of night, and Hal P. Warren, heavy-hearted and crestfallen, pursued his travels homeward, alongside the barren wastelands which stretch beside El Paso, and which he had traversed so cheerily in the afternoon. It was the night of the unveiling of his masterpiece, Manos: The Hands of Fate. The air that afternoon had been heavy and humid, but it couldn’t dampen his spirits. He had won his bet—his movie was complete, ready for an unprepared world’s embrace.
His actors arrived in the rented limousine—one carload at a time, as Warren could afford only a single rental. Spotlights lit the night sky,…
"Without Manos: The Hands of Fate there would be no 2001: A Space Oddyssey."
"Robert Smith Jr and Russ Huddleston's score is the reason I started composing"
"I almost quit show business for good the first time I saw Manos. I mean, when a performance as brilliant as John Reynolds' Torgo already exists why would I even bother trying..."
O Manos... thou of primal darkness! Thou who dwelleth in the depth of the universe in the black casims of night! Thou who bestoweth the mother darkness upon thy faithful, to live eternally in her keeping. Thou dost make him most blessed forever! And thou who dost cursed with eternal burning life those whom transrest against thee! Holy art thou, holy art thou, holy art thou! Manos will be done! Thy priesthood remains steadfast, thy priesthood remains constant, thy priesthood remains righteous. Thou hast taught us, O Manos, and we hath listened. Give ear to our words, O Manos, and hear us! Hear us! Hear us! For…
My mom (after walking in on me watching this film): "Is this a porno flick?"
Manos: The Hands of Fate (roughly translated into Hands: The Hands of Fate) is an incredible film. It transcends the word 'incredible'. In fact, it conjures up its own word and that word is "torgo". This film is very torgo.
Holy shit this film is fucking terrible. But it's a special kind of fucking terrible. It's a "holy shit I'm going to shoot myself any second now fucking terrible" kind of fucking terrible. Never before have I seen a man die because his face was caressed to death.
Manos has changed my outlook on cinema as well as humanity. Are we humans this monstrous and…
this was so painful, the boredom it caused was pure torture, and i don't want to finish this thing ..... and people say this thing is enjoyable when i couldn't stomach 20 minutes of it
God, this just doesn't get any better with time. Half a star for the 'rasslin scene.
Fascinatingly terrible, half the people in the film seem to have no idea what they're doing and the other half seem to be trying to communicate something profound but unknowable.
Home to one of the all-time best and most apt riffs, "Every frame of this movie looks like someone's last known photograph."
Watched via MST3K's Turkey Day 2016 stream
"DO SOMETHING!" - Joel Hodgson as Joel Robinson
In honor of the passing of Tom Neyman aka "The Master", I once again suffered through one of the shittiest films in existence. This film is so inexcusably bad, it makes it quite the interesting watch.
Long live Torgo.
It's just one of those so bad it's good kind of movies. The entire movie was shit and then the audio was re recorded and taped over which would be fine if it matched up with the words and the actual actors were used for their own voices. It's very bad but it's a must see.
As terrible as its reputation. Poorly made, amateurishly executed and, even at a scant 70 minutes, thoroughly boring.
Manos: The Hands of Fate is all well and good as a hip meme punchline, but as a standalone film is beyond any capability of interest, and is not even entertaining in a "funny-bad movie" standpoint.
Leave it well alone, maybe even give the MST3k version a miss too. Despite its notoriety, there are far better episodes of the show.
The film keeps getting better with every rewatch.
Step One: Go to www.random.org.
Letterboxd's most controversial films, ranked by the variance in their ratings.
B-movies. Exploitation. Outsider art ("art"). Live-action adaptations. Romantic comedies.…
Movies that are slightly off.