cinema history class: the woman eater (1958)

The session: Spring is in the Air, and the Plants are Growing
Keith shows four movies about carnivorous plants.

As always, there may be spoilers here. And the trailer may be NSFW and/or NSFL.

Week 3: The Woman Eater (1958)
Directed by Charles Saunders

My Level of Prior Knowledge:
Never heard of it.

Plot Synopsis:
A reclusive scientist living in London secretly cultivates a strange carnivorous tree he brought back from Haiti, feeding it human victims to sustain its growth -- hoping that it will provide a serum to bring the dead back to life. 

Plot:
The Woman Eater is a title that, until now, I would have confidently placed in the “probably terrible and rightfully forgotten” bin. And yet—surprise—it’s actually pretty good. Not just “good for a low-budget ’50s sci-fi flick,” but legitimately solid when you stack it up against some of the better-known entries in the genre. Which raises the obvious question: why is this one so forgotten? I don't have a good answer for that question; it's probably a combination of factors. I'll just blame it on the commies.

The centerpiece, of course, is the tree. And what a tree it is. It’s this wonderful, slightly ridiculous creation—part nightmare fuel, part something that wandered in from Lost in Space. Keith shared a great behind-the-scenes nugget: the original prop was destroyed shortly before filming, forcing the production team to whip up a replacement on the fly. By all accounts, the backup wasn’t as polished—but honestly, that might have been a blessing. The result lands right in that sweet spot of giggly-scary: unsettling enough to work, but just off-kilter enough to make you grin.

What really elevates the movie, though, is that it gives us actual characters. I went in expecting cardboard cutouts whose sole purpose was to be fed to the foliage. Instead, I found myself oddly invested. The scientist’s obsession, the assistant’s trickery, the romantic subplot—it all hangs together better than you’d think, and it makes the inevitable doom feel earned rather than perfunctory.

And there’s Tanga. It’s never entirely clear why he agreed to accompany the scientist from Haiti to London, but his presence adds a steady undercurrent of menace. The drumming, in particular, is a nice touch: simple, repetitive, and just creepy enough to suggest that something very wrong is always lurking nearby.

Plot-wise, this is more coherent than expected. The story actually makes sense from beginning to end, without the usual “wait, what just happened?” detours that plague a lot of these films. It knows what it’s doing, sticks to it, and manages to be fun along the way. And, in its own odd little way, it’s mischievously sexy—never explicit, but definitely aware of the pulpy appeal of its premise. We can thank Vera Day for that.

All of which is to say: this is an enjoyable, better-than-its-reputation piece of ’50s sci-fi/horror that deserves relatively high marks. But a 10? I’m sorry. I don’t see it. Joe, of course, gave it a 10.