Frankenstein goes off to college to learn everything. Two years later, he has discovered the secret of life. He’s a go-getter, so he magics up a man in a kiln in his living room. And he is successful beyond his wildest dreams, which is bad news for him.
When television and film go back to the same characters over and over, the first incarnation we see tends to be the one that becomes “ours.” Our James Bond or our Doctor or our Sherlock Holmes is the correct one and you can’t shake us. There is a random quality to intersections with pop culture, but longevity allows an actor’s interpretation to become the default for generations.
Incubus (1966) was very nearly a lost movie. If it had been lost, it would be hard to believe that an American movie filmed entirely in Esperanto existed at all. But it squeaked through the closing doors of history and it’s possible for doubters to see it with their own eyes and be amazed. Incubus (1966) exists, and it is the stuff obsessions are made of.