Mesa of Lost Women

As is pretty well-documented I am a complete movie nut.  While I don't have the encyclopedic knowledge of  cinema that my good friend Erik Esckilsen has, I am hooked on film.  Not only do I wear out my Netflix account, but I also get tapped by the nefarious Erik to host many of the college's public film screenings - which is just about favorite chore.  What may be less well-known, although not to my long-suffering friends, is that I also love bad cinema.  I think I may have memorized Welden's Psychotronic Guide of Film, both volumes.  One of my favorite memories of my teenage years was watching the Cool Ghoul (Cincinnati's late night horror movie host) every Saturday night.  One night in particular an astonishingly bad movie entitled Mesa of Lost Women came on.  It was so mind-numbingly horrible that I actually woke my father up out of a sound sleep to come in and watch it with me.  Luckily, he avoided the obvious and appropriate response of beating me senseless and instead gracefully got up and watched the movie with me.  We laughed so hard we cried, and it remains one of our fondest memories.  Follow the link and watch it - if you dare.

I'm not certain how many Oscars it won, but not enough to match the joy it has given me over the years.