The Flying Serpent [Impossible Voyages #23] – Blue Towel Productions

As mentioned previously, in “Impossible Voyages” I’m watching and writing about a run of new (to me) science fiction films to be watched over last year, which has extended to this year (2026). You can read the rationale and ground rules here. In the meantime, we are advancing from 1945 to 1946 with this movie, #24 in this series.

The Flying Serpent is not a mad scientist movie, at least not precisely as we’ve come to think of them. Instead it’s about a mad archeologist–a rich and too often untapped source for cinematic craziness!

Spoilers Ahead

The Flying Serpent (1946)

Directed by Sam Newfield

The Story:  The deranged archeologist Professor Andrew Forbes has managed to capture Quetzalcoatl, a thought-to-be mythical flying serpent that relentless pursues and kills anyone in possession of one its feathers. Forbes uses this technique to kill several people whom believes to be a threat to his possession of the famed Montezuma’s treasure. Radio personality Richard Thorpe comes to the investigate the murders as part of a radio program, and in doing so becomes a target of Forbes. Thorpe becomes suspicious of Forbes, and is able to prevent Forbes’ stepdaughter Mary, with whom Thorpe has fallen in love, from becoming his next victim. In the end Forbes himself is killed by Quetzalcoatl, who is then shot down by Thorpe.

Starring: George Zucco as Professor Forbes, Ralph Lewis as Richard Thorpe, and Hope Kramer as Mary. Eddie Acuff and Terry Frost as Thorpe’s two assistants. Quetzalcoatl’s victims are played by James Metcalfe (ornithologist John Lambert), Henry Hall (sheriff Bill Hayes) and Wheaton Chambers (Louis Havener, another ornithologist working with Thorpe). Milton Kibbee plays Superintendent Hastings, an official in Azteca, the town where all this is taking place.

Comments: The Flying Serpent is, even in the context of a series like this which is devoted to the sometimes dubious history of science fiction cinema, pretty bad.

Like, seriously, most of the movies I’ve been watching for “Impossible Voyages” have not been what one might call “high art,” but they still have the benefit of wrapping up neat ideas and concepts in well-packaged cinematic stories, which felt like were trying to do a good job, even if resources were limited. Or if the ideas being explored were so inherently goofy that nobody could possibly take them seriously. But The Flying Serpent lacks much of that. Instead, overwhelmingly, it just feels rushed and cheap.

Those limitations are apparent in every stage of the storytelling. The movie begins by introducing Professor Andrew Forbes, a crazed archeologist who, we are told, has somehow found Montezuma’s treasure and captured its guardian, Quetzalcoatl. We don’t get to see any of this–it’s just the state of affairs when the movie begins. After this the movie takes up most of its runtime with a lots of scenes of people talking, punctuated by the supposedly “big spectacle” moments where Forbes unleashes the creature to find and kill whoever is unlucky enough to be hanging around one its feathers (another little details that is spelled out in the opening exposition).

These sequences basically involve multiple side-view shots of the decidedly odd looking Quetzalcoatl flying along before the victim looks up, gasps and screams, and then a distant through gruesome image of the thing feasting on the guy’s dead body (or drinking his blood, we come to understand). Each death plays out in pretty much the exact same way, with a very similar looking set of shots employed (I haven’t checked if they are exactly the same), and so the effect is repetitious and predictable, rather than thrilling or scary.

Now I don’t mind a talky film, or limited special effects, but it has to be in aid of something: ie meaningful drama or character exploration. But here, while there is a bunch of dramatic material implied by the story, none of it is in the story. Forbes is so obsessed with treasure, he’s willing to kill multiple times, including his former family friend, and later his own step-daughter. Why? We hear about the death of his wife (killed by Quetzalcoatl in the same way, albeit by accident), but we never look at what this is supposed to mean for the character. So the huge amounts of expository information in the movie (the first death doesn’t happen until about 25% through the less than an hour runtime, for instance; that runtime is used to introduce the Forbes and his backstory, plus Mary and the first victim John Lambert) never goes anywhere or pays off.

There’s a long sequence in the middle devoted to an inquest surrounding the circumstances of Lambert’s death. Almost every bit of evidence that is discussed here are things that the audience already knows. But the script still insists on devoting over five minutes to these various people asking questions and giving their reports. Maybe that doesn’t sound like much, but remember this movie isn’t even an hour long–other than facilitating a meeting between Richard Thorpe and Forbes and Mary, it accomplishes nothing.

Also mixing its way into all of this are some unfunny attempts at humor featuring Thorpe’s wing-man Jonesy, and the radio station owner who is funding Thorpe’s investigation into the murder. The idea, one presumes, is to offer some comic relief to the tension, but in a film where there isn’t any tension, it doesn’t help, it just creates further distraction. Jonesy is limited to a few moment acting life dim-witted oaf now and again, but the radio station guy gets to close the whole movie by punching out one of his employees simply because he lost out on a chance to get in on whatever treasure Thorpe found.

But maybe the dumbest thing in the movie is just how it all wraps up. Forbes attempts, semi-randomly, to kill his step-daughter. Thorpe interferes, Quetzalcoatl gets loose, and Forbes decides to run out into the open while carrying one of the feathers, even though he knows perfect well what will happen–he’s already killed three people this way.

And then, after Quetzalcoatl has claimed its fourth victim, Thorpe just shoots it, and it dies. Situation sorted, problem solved. And underwhelming climax, to be sure.

So in summary, a script that fails to develop anything in a meaningful way, a production that feels cheap, and a lack of emotional impact all add up to pretty bad movie. The performances were serviceable, but nothing outstanding, with possibly George Zucco (who I also saw in this series in Dr. Renault’s Secret) standing out as the most interesting. But even there, there is only so much someone can do when the script and direction give you so little work with.

Other thoughts:

• After the first victim, John Lambert, is killed–there are all sorts of newspaper and radio broadcasts reporting the event. Lambert is repeatedly referred to as one of the country’s leading ornithologists. Man, times have changed, I guess, because I can’t think of even a single one of America’s famous ornithologists today, let alone one of the leading ones.