When I was seven years old, I developed arachnophobia, the fear of spiders. How did this happen, you might ask (and I know you did, because I have spidy-senses)? I was looking at the windowsill at my grandparents’ old farmhouse (it was at one time a corn silo, true story), and I saw something I had never seen before: a gray, puffy sack that was expanding and contracting at various spots. And BOOM! The sack exploded, and a thousand baby spiders crawled every which way (but loose). I ran to grab my sleeping grandfather off the couch and made him get up to see what was happening. It was then my fear developed when my eighty-year-old grandpappy palmed the web, letting hundreds of those baby spiders crawl all over his hand, walked over to the bathroom to shake them off, and upon flushing the toilet, lay back down on the couch and fell asleep as I saw a few tiny infestations crawl up his arms! To this day if I see a spider, even a harmless house spider (are any of them harmless?) all you will see is a Looney Tunes cloud in my wake, which is maybe what some of the hundreds of victims (like the poor innocent delivery man at the beginning) should do who stop at the Merrye House in the incestuous (hmmm.. sounds familiar) independent childlike murderous monstrosity known as Spider Baby: or, the Maddest Story Ever Told or a movie which confirms my fear of spiders is still carved deep into the deepest reaches of my eternal soul (even if it also confirms that my taste for terribly schlocky flickies is always going to remain a web of mystery)!
Crawling in the basement corners of Hollyweird (and hungry like Virginia Merrye is for bugs to get into the film business), independent producers Gil Lasky and Paul Monka had heard of a young filmmaker who was making little horror films like Blood Bath for Roger Corman and felt he might be the kind of eight-legged freak they needed to break into the box office. Greenlighting based on a tiny outline of a daddy-long-legs thin plot on the spot for a whopping $65,000, Hill only needed to have a star to sell the picture. Enter in legendary horror icon Lon Chaney, Jr., fresh off a string of cheapy creepies, among them one by the so-terrible-he-is-so- good-to-be-so-terrible Jerry Warren (Face of the Screaming Wolf), who was offended only being offered mere $2500 to play the valet/head of the household Bruno, until producers tried to capture his competitor John Carradine (another actor poisoned by the Black Widow Warren), to which the wolfman howled at the cash grab. With a prolific bona fide star in their picture, the team set out to make the little independent feature, the film was shot in twelve days on black and white film stock by Alfred Taylor (The Atomic Brain), who devised a clever way to light the interior of the house with mirrors and reflectors since the house did not have electricity for lighting equipment. Things were smooth in production, but soon after the producers filed for bankruptcy, leaving the film to hang in limbo like a chewed-up cricket’s leg waiting for distribution. When it finally found distribution two years later, it was released all over the place under several different titles, ranging from Attack of the Liver Eaters to Cannibal Orgy, of which these have nothing to do with the film other than to lure some unsuspecting prey into the darkness of 42nd street theatres (where you especially need a can of good quality Raid). A tremendous effort from all involved, including a pre-1970s-exploitation era performance (from a soon to legendary horror icon himself) by Sid Haig, the film should be recognized for being a very competent independent movie shown a few years before the likes of Blood Feast or Night of the Living Dead that paralyzed its audiences with originality and courageous plotting fans could sink their fangs into.
As their surviving uncle explains at the beginning of the film, before we flash back (or flash forward, or… oh, who cares), the Merrye family suffers from a very unique condition known as… Merrye Syndrome, a condition present in the descendants, in which they regress mentally and physically to an evolutionary state (meaning they are kids forever, which I thought was Peter Pan syndrome?). Promising their parents upon their deathbed to protect Elizabeth, Virginia, and young Ralph, Bruno swears he will do everything to make sure nothing happens to them. Too bad he can’t promise nothing will happen to people who stumble into their deadly childish spiderwebs of rampage with nets, sharp knives, and a very killer hideout in a dumb-waiter (what do smart-waiters do?)! This plan has been working for years until a venomous lawyer and their distant relatives come to suck the kiddos dry of their riches, who couldn’t care less they are millionaires but want people to be nice. These people aren’t nice, and the children feel it is their duty to rid the world of such bugs! Will the children clear the cobwebs from their ears and listen to Bruno to be nice, or will Bruno blow their minds by becoming a new web designer (maybe he created JavaScript)?
Spinning your way at eighty minutes, and directed by Jack Hill (who would get stuck making films like The Big Doll House before putting Pam Grier on the map with the likes of Coffey and Foxy Brown), the film would be first shown as a double feature with a film called The Wizard of Mars (“Pay no attention to that Martian behind the curtain!”) before releasing on its own under those various non-related titles. You can find the film on most streaming platforms, but try to get the Dark Sky Films special edition DVD with commentary by Hill and special features featuring Haig. So, the next time you deliver a DoorDash of Rabbit Shish kabob to the Merrye residence, be sure to knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, and knock so Virginia, Elizabeth, and young Ralph think you’re a spider, baby, then drop the food fast (or fast food) to buzz off, and don’t bug them!
