Considering the film’s reputation as truly the worst of the worst, I was looking forward to watching Wood’s Crappus Opus (my word); it’s not necessarily any more inept than the other Woods I’ve watched – however, being from the REEFER MADNESS (1938) school of film-making, GLEN OR GLENDA doesn’t come across as readily ‘enjoyable’ as his genre efforts.
Also, this surely emerges as Horror legend Bela Lugosi’s nadir (his first of three ‘collaborations’ with the director): one wonders whether he was really aware what kind of film it was (considering the actor’s history of heavy medication and the sheer senselessness of his cameo). Besides, Lugosi’s idiosyncratic delivery is perhaps at its most awkward here…though Wood’s script is mostly to blame for this – given the impossible dialogue (with repeated nonsensical allusions to “puppy-dog tails” and “big fat snails”) he handed the ailing star! By the way, Wood himself plays the central role (under the pseudonym Daniel Davis) – and, being just as worthless in this area, proves to have been an all-round dog!; Dolores Fuller – his wife and co-star – was similarly untalented (she would also appear in JAIL BAIT [1954])…but, at the very least, the image where the latter finally lets Glen wear her angora sweater did give Tim Burton’s affectionate biopic ED WOOD (1994) its famous poster!
Incidentally, the latter film features a presumably fictionalized meeting between Wood and Orson Welles – well, for all intents and purposes, GLEN OR GLENDA constitutes Ed Wood’s CITIZEN KANE (1941) given its gleeful propensity for gimmicky narrative techniques: in fact, the barest thread of plot is padded with stock footage galore (many of it irrelevant, such as the bewildering instances of S&M) and inane dream sequences (highlighted by the presence of an impish demon sporting outrageous bushy eyebrows that would make Martin Scorsese weep with envy)! The film’s sincere attempt at a plea for tolerance and psychological probing into the affliction/phenomenon of transvestism is, however, sabotaged at every turn by the sheer amateurishness of the approach.
For what it’s worth, the edition I watched was the “Extended Re-issue Version” which included six minutes of ‘depraved’ footage (directed by W. Merle Connell) censored on original release! Furthermore, my copy went out-of-synch every so often (which forced me to rewind it slightly to get the audio back on track) – though, thankfully, this was the fault of the source conversion to DivX as opposed to the film itself.