There’s something about a boat-full of boozed up British wankers that always ends up in on the wrong side of seaworthy. In this Hammer Horror effort various 1960s British stereotypes board the tramp steamer Coritia bound for Caracas from Freetown. Now I’m no Geography George but I’m pretty sure Freetown is in SIerra Leone (that’s West Africa to all you “me no know places so good” loathsome types) and Caracas is in Venezuela (South America). That’s a lot of British people who are a long way from home that happen to meet a bunch of other British Hooray Henry’s to head even further from home. Various exposition is given to explain why these Brits are all heading from random port A to random port B, but it’s so bloody convoluted in the first place that you already don’t give a shit. Oh, and the Captain’s smuggling chemicals onboard that explode when they come into contact with water. What a twat. Anyway the ship starts to sink, the chemicals might explode, so everyone abandons ship only to find themselves lost, adrift, engulfed in some wacky tentacled seaweed, and in some timeless vortex (aka The Lost Continent). But hey the Coritia turns up unharmed, meaning abandoning ship was a complete waste of fucking time (yours and theirs!). The titular Lost Continent is populated with various figures from naval history (Conquistadors, pirates etc) who wear snow-shoes on their feet and balloons on their backs and have taken up some cult that worships a kind of vagina sea plant.., this happens. I don’t know. I’m confused. Characters flip-flop so frequently between douchebag and hero that I didn’t know who to root for. An absolute car crash of plotting and characterisation. Crazier than a Greek sank’n'crack wax. Needless to say, I fucking loved it.
PS This also features smoking hot Suzanna Leigh.