A spacecraft from a distant world lands near Lake Tahoe; the police and army investigate, discovering a large alien monster bound within. But this creature has an identical companion which has escaped from the craft and is rampaging through the countryside, devouring all those who are unfortunate enough to cross its path...
Legend has it that producer/director/star (under the name "Vic Savage") Art J. Nelson lost the soundtrack to this inept sci-fi embarrassment, which was written by Robert Silliphant and Arthur Ross. So what did he do? Did he dub over the dialogue later? Well, some of it. Mostly he added a running commentary as a substitute, which gives the impression of someone reading out the minutes of a meeting while the action runs onscreen.
The Creeping Terror itself is where the money was spent - it's like some kind of huge slug, or some kind of tarpaulin with a rubber protuberance at one end. It actually resembles the hero's greasy quiff from some angles. To call it threatening would be sadly innaccurate as it's patently being propelled from underneath by a group of shuffling extras. Despite being easily outrun by little more than a brisk walk, the Terror does manage to consume a host of unlucky victims who tend to stand, aghast, as the horror approaches.
With barely enough plot to last half an hour, never mind 77 minutes, the film suffers from a tiresome amount of padding: housewives wash dishes or hang out clothes on the line, a sequence in a dancehall (or is it a church hall?) full of twisting partygoers drags on for ages, a driving sequence rivals the one in Solaris for monotony, and there is a surplus of kissing scenes. Indeed, our useless hero spends more time snogging his wife than he does saving the world. Even the Terror itself starts humping cars at the local lover's lane.
As you might expect, you can enjoy a few easy laughs at the wretchedness of this movie: the "hootenanny", where one of the worst musicians ever recorded attempts to attack the creature with his guitar certainly raises a smile. And the ludicrous explanation for this all mayhem is worth sticking around for. Imagine paying to see this at a cinema in 1964 - you'd be bloody furious. Music by Frederick Kopp. You'd have thought the Terror would be full up after eating the grandpa, wouldn't you?