"Sound of Horror," or The Screech in Greece

To defend yourself against an invisible Greek dinosaur you will first require several large bags of flour...

Ingrid Pitt's frugging displeases Capt. Jawline

Soledad Miranda performs a traditional dance, to general apathy

The great Ingrid Pitt's first feature film was the 1964 micro-budget Spanish horror flick , The Sound of Horror.

The very young Miss Pitt does some good frugging to weird early 1960s Spanish rock music in this film, which otherwise spends a great deal of time depicting fat guys in bush shirts blowing up a cave in a silly attempt to find some treasure.

First of all, they only have half the map for about a third of the movie. And when they find a mummy wrapped in burlap, in a coffin, and wearing some sort of ceremonial garb underneath, the head nitwit confidently pronounces the corpse "Homo sapiens neanderthal," which is absurd.

But hey, these are not the brightest treasure hunters in cinematic history. They also find a petrified egg they put on the mantelpiece so it can get warmed up and hatch at the least convenient moment.

Turns out there's an invisible dinosaur in the cave, and it shuffles toward the victim making increasingly alarming noises until mauling the poor slob.

The only way to fight it is to take the large bags of flour you have sitting around and spread it in the yard, so when you see dinosaur footprints you simply heave the axe in the general direction and hope for the best.

Far too much plot getting in the way of the story. Ingrid Pitt's legs. One too many trips to the well. Screeching, wailing and moaning. Screeching, wailing and moaning from the transistor radio. The least expensive monster in movie history. Short. Soledad Miranda, who is actually cuter than Ingrid and a much better dancer. Two coils.