Nothing in this cheap Thirties flick makes much sense. Endless footage of jungle wildlife, leaping for dear life in the shadow of an intruding chopper, makes up about half of the running time, the plot is in threads, and characters are weakly written throughout. Allegedly Rice Burroughs chose Bruce Bennett for his first own Tarzan, quick-witted and astute rather than brawny and dumb. Certainly, this guy knows where Guatemala is situated, and he knows his French as well, Lord Greystoke indeed, and Bennett is not half bad. He is magnificent from the purely physical sense, he throws a great punch and he is genuinely playful with the chimps. Again, nothing makes much sense here, and the violence of this movie is staggering, really hardcore. It works rather well though, choreography is elaborate, and I was having a jolly good time with what is, admittedly, a rather poor B-flick.
Review of Tarzan and the Green Goddess
