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Across the Rio Grande,  film distributor K. Gordon Murray caught sight of the Santo phenomena and was inspired.  At that time in 1962, the Italian Hercules movies starring Steve Reeves were pulling in large young male audiences.  Murray bought the US rights to two Santo titles, Santo Contra las Mujeres Vampiras (Santo VS the Vampire Women) and Santo en el Museo de Cera (Santo in the Wax Museum).  He dubbed the films into English, and hoping to cash in on the Italian muscleman fad, changed Santo’s name to Samson.  Vampire Women soon became a local-TV horror favorite, in no small part because it is the stuff boyish dreams are made of (including mine),  especially when those dreams are populated by the alluring title villainesses.  Not surprisingly, hot vixens became a staple of future Santo films.

By the mid-60s, the muscleman genre gave way to the spy craze, and with this change in tastes, Santo’s cinematic adventures ceased being adapted for a US market.  In his native land, however, Santo’s reign continued uabated as a Mexican movie hero.  He appeared in movies with even larger-budgets, not only as a monster-alien basher but also as a suave super spy himself.  In Operation 67, for instance, Santo wore a Bond-like tuxedo below his ever-present mask.  Some things couldn’t change.

A hero from a more innocent time, Santo found he was unable to compete with the rebel films of the late 60s and the Altamn-esque cinema of  the 70s.  Santo’s pictures of that decade, although replete with monsters and sexy women, were mostly chaotic, directionless efforts that lacked the atomosphere and charm of the earlier films.  Sadly, Santo himself was in something of a decline by the late 70s, a time that would usher in a resurgence of traditional fantasy heroes like Luke Skywalker, Superman, Flash Gordon, and Tarzan.  The legendary wrestler would have fit right in among them, but he chose instead to retire in 1982, dying two years later in 1984.  Tens of thousands of fans turned out at his funeral.

Many of us baby boomers will never forget the late-night hours spent in front of a flickering rabbit-eared TV watching the masked champion rescue a gorgeous babe from the clutches of some madman or vampire queen.  Even as a kid, part of me knew this was silly.  Still, years later, that didn’t stop me  as a teen from going to the Spanish-language theater in DC to watch the latest Santo adventure in color.  Today we’re much too cinematically sophisticated and critical to enjoy such simple fare, and yet, when ever I think of Santo, I always smile at the memory of him.

SANTO (SAMSON) IN THE WAX MUSEUM.

One hero.  Three reviewers.  The Misfits take on Mexico’s famous masked hero in one of his most well-known movies.  On a scale of 1 to 15 (15 being best), the Misfits give Santo in the Wax Museum a…

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Moment one: At one point in the film, Frankenstein’s Daughter hypnotizes Santo’s girlfriend and orders her to go to Santo, who is chained to a marble slab, and gouge out his eyes. To make sure she does as instructed, a henchman wearing an eye patch is sent with her. The henchman is a bit on the squeamish side, however, so he stands outside, on the other side of the door, and listens to Santo’s screams of agony as his eyes are gouged out.

When Frankenstein’s Daughter learns that Santo has escaped and that the eye gouging was faked, she demands an explanation from her henchman. He doesn’t lie or give her a bunch of excuses. He simply says, “I lost my own eye. I could not watch.” No false bravado or machismo here. This big, burly henchman is unable to do anything except state the simple, crazy truth. It’s a moment that’s both silly and, somehow, touching.

Moment two: During a fight in a cemetery, Santo throws Ursus (a monstrous creation of Frankenstein’s Daughter) backward, and the creature is impaled on a cross. While Santo sends the other henchmen fleeing, Ursus manages to pull himself off the cross and to sit down on a grave. Seeing this, Santo takes pity on Ursus, removes his own shirt, rolls it into a ball, and then sticks it under Ursus’ shirt to help stanch the flow of blood pouring from the monster’s chest. As a medical remedy, it leaves a bit to be desired, but in this case, maybe it’s the thought that counts.

Touched by this little bit of humanity, the dying Ursus shows up at the end of the film to help Santo fight the henchmen of Frankenstein’s Daughter, enabling Santo to rescue his girlfriend and her sister. A button is inadvertently pushed, setting off a delayed detonation that will blow up the hidden lab. Santo turns to the mortally wounded Usus and says, “We’ve got to get out. Follow me.”

From that point on, Santo is busy helping his girlfriend and her sister run (neither one of them, it should be noted, dealing with a gaping, blood-drenched wound), while Ursus, understandably looking a little puzzled, stumbles after them. Santo and the women make it to safety, but poor Ursus, who isn’t traveling very fast, is blown up! No one acknowledges his death or has even a kind word for the gruesome but ultimately helpful creature.

Only in a Santo movie, even if inadvertently, could your sympathies be switched from the seemingly callous hero with his perfunctory humanity, to a dazed but well meaning monster.

SANTO VS FRANKENSTEIN’S DAUGHTER (SANTO VS LA HIJA DE FRANKENSTEIN) (1971)
Director: Miguel M. Delgado. Writer: Fernando Oses. Starring: Santo, Gina Romand, Anel.

A hero so legendary, a character so large it required three reviewers to take on one of his films.

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