Let me ask you something. Say you're at the drive-in with your family and you hear the announcement made in my summary line above. Do you immediately start your car and leave or wonder whether you need a hearing aid? Well, every car turned on it's lights and headed out the exit, apparently in the belief that a herd of killer rabbits is just one of those things you might run into every now and then. One could make a case that they really didn't care for the flick showing at the drive-in - it was "Every Little Crook and Nanny", and YES!, that was a real movie that came out the same year this one did. With Lynn Redgrave and Victor Mature in the cast, it rates a whole point higher than this one on IMDb.
You know, sometimes I struggle to write these film reviews, and sometimes they just write themselves. This is one of those times where the words just gush forth in dubious admiration for a flick that's so outrageous it just had to be made. Who came up with this concept? It would have been right at home in that bizarre year of 1959 which offered up such celluloid treats as "The Giant Gila Monster" and "The Killer Shrews". Both of those pictures, along with 'Lepus', make the best use of extreme close-up shots to enlarge their title creatures to monstrous proportions against the miniaturized buildings they over run.
One of the principals here is the old Texan himself, Rory Calhoun, ditching his vest and leading the charge against the giant mutant killer bunnies, along side Stuart Whitman and Janet Leigh, a nifty trio of actors who somehow managed to keep a straight face throughout the proceedings. DeForest Kelley also got roped into this thing, and for a guy who once had trouble with tribbles, I'm wondering how the heck he came along for this ride.
The thing is, nobody ever got wise to the fact that it was the Bennett's (Whitman and Leigh) own daughter who was responsible for the hare-raising horror that followed when she switched places with a serum injected rabbit she liked for another one that she put in a quarantine cage. The kid got away scot-free and no one was any the wiser. Even crack sheriff Cody (Paul Fix) couldn't solve this puzzle, after all those years keeping the peace in North Fork. You'll have to forgive all my TV Western references, you can blame director William Claxton who brought along a host of former acting colleagues from prior projects.
The biggest kick I got out of this flick were all those great slow-mo rabbit stampedes, ominously approaching their intended victims or descending on the next unfortunate town in their path. By this time in 1972 it seems the film makers should have eased up on the brightness of the fire engine red blood on all those poor victims. I'd understand if this was a Hammer film, but it wasn't, so next time, let's try to tone it down a bit, OK?
You know, sometimes I struggle to write these film reviews, and sometimes they just write themselves. This is one of those times where the words just gush forth in dubious admiration for a flick that's so outrageous it just had to be made. Who came up with this concept? It would have been right at home in that bizarre year of 1959 which offered up such celluloid treats as "The Giant Gila Monster" and "The Killer Shrews". Both of those pictures, along with 'Lepus', make the best use of extreme close-up shots to enlarge their title creatures to monstrous proportions against the miniaturized buildings they over run.
One of the principals here is the old Texan himself, Rory Calhoun, ditching his vest and leading the charge against the giant mutant killer bunnies, along side Stuart Whitman and Janet Leigh, a nifty trio of actors who somehow managed to keep a straight face throughout the proceedings. DeForest Kelley also got roped into this thing, and for a guy who once had trouble with tribbles, I'm wondering how the heck he came along for this ride.
The thing is, nobody ever got wise to the fact that it was the Bennett's (Whitman and Leigh) own daughter who was responsible for the hare-raising horror that followed when she switched places with a serum injected rabbit she liked for another one that she put in a quarantine cage. The kid got away scot-free and no one was any the wiser. Even crack sheriff Cody (Paul Fix) couldn't solve this puzzle, after all those years keeping the peace in North Fork. You'll have to forgive all my TV Western references, you can blame director William Claxton who brought along a host of former acting colleagues from prior projects.
The biggest kick I got out of this flick were all those great slow-mo rabbit stampedes, ominously approaching their intended victims or descending on the next unfortunate town in their path. By this time in 1972 it seems the film makers should have eased up on the brightness of the fire engine red blood on all those poor victims. I'd understand if this was a Hammer film, but it wasn't, so next time, let's try to tone it down a bit, OK?