Spreading panic from Broadway to Bombay, 1957's The Giant Claw boasts perhaps the ultimate flying monster in movie history. Described by one terrified Quebecois witness as "La Carcagne – she's de devil in de storm with de face of de wolf and de body of de woman with wings, bigger than I can tell," it doesn't say much for Canadian women since when we finally see it in focus it's a cross between an overgrown buzzard, a chickenhawk and Gonzo the Great. But this isn't just any old giant turkey – impervious to rockets, invisible to radar and with a taste for swallowing parachutists whole and pecking away at the United Nations Building, it's an extraterrestrial giant turkey from an anti-matter galaxy millions of miles from Earth that's come here to build a nest: "No other explanation is possible." Luckily for humanity Jeff Morrow, test pilot and "chief cook and bottle washer in a one-man birdwatching society," invents a weapon to disable its impenetrable shield so they can hit it with everything but the kitchen sink – but don't worry: Morris Ankrum's general assures him "We've got kitchen sinks to spare, son." – just in time for a last-minute clinch with co-star Mara Corday. Some of the dialogue has dated rather unfortunately – "I admire your spunk, and you keep climbing on our backs whenever we've messed up" – and strangely enough it's nowhere near as much fun as a film with a giant flying turkey should be, but the beast itself is such a truly memorable creation for all the wrong reasons that it's hard to dislike even if you are liking it for all the wrong reasons. And full marks to the cast for delivering gem after gem of direlogue with a straight face: "Honest to Pete, I'll never call my mother-in-law an old crow again!," "The only trouble is that the last time I talked to a chaplain there wasn't any telephone line to the one and only place where we can get the kind of help we need" and the immortal "There it is now, attacking the United Nations Building!"