Back in 1992, someone over at the Japanese video game giant Konami decided that the world had waited long enough for a video game version of one of the cheesiest movies ever made, Ed Wood’s Plan 9 from Outer Space.
 

Vampira (played by Finnish-born actress, Maila Nurmi), in a digitized scene from the ‘Plan 9 from Outer Space’ video game
 

Tor Johnson as seen in the 1992 video game
 
The point-and-click style game was released for Commodore’s Amiga personal computer and the Atari ST in both Europe and the US. Hard-to-find copies of the original game also came with a bonus—a VHS tape of Wood’s film inside. Like the film itself, gameplay was pretty tedious. As the player, you are a private investigator who must travel to locations in and around Los Angeles in search of missing film reels that were stolen by Bela Lugosi’s movie double. To spice things up a little, Konami used digitized footage (pictured above) from Plan 9 From Outer Space in their game design, which was actually pretty slick for the time (believe it or not, kids).
 

Screenshots from the “Plan 9 from Outer Space” video game by Konami, 1992
 
Continues after the jump…

 
The fabulously demented auteur Ed Wood was born 87 years ago today and to celebrate this momentous occasion I am sharing a delightful documentary on Mr Wood that was broadcast on the BBC in 1989.

This is an episode of Son of the Incredibly Strange Film Show hosted by Jonathan Ross.
 

Ron Ormond is the Ed Wood of bad religious film-making and If Footmen Tire You, What Will Horses Do? is his magnum opus. It’s like a Jack Chick tract come to life!

Here’s an (edited) review found on the Greylodge G-Pod website:

If Jesus Christ came back to Earth and saw the 1971 Baptist propaganda film If Footmen Tire You, What Will Horses Do? he would convert to Buddhism. This astonishing little movie hits a rare trifecta of foaming-mouth lunacy: barking dogma, Cold War paranoia and Dixie-fried exploitation film-making at its unintentionally funniest.

If Footmen Tire You, What Will Horses Do? is the unlikely collaboration of two of the least inspiring men of their respective trades: the Rev. Estus W. Pirkle, a Mississippi preacher who had a minor following thanks to mail order sales of audiotaped sermons, and Alan Ormond, a Grade Z filmmaker who gave the world such nonsense as The Monster and the Stripper and The Girl from Tobacco Road. Ormond came to Rev. Pirkle?