Still, watching Starman battle the same idiotic henchmen — who never swarm en masse, but wait to go one on one with the clearly stronger superhero — is a hoot; no matter how many times the exact same shots are recycled. But, are you telling me that, fifty years ago, they couldn’t have forced Utsui to wear an undershirt beneath his costume? After all, areolae are not that... well, you get the point. I guess that’s all one could expect for a film that clocks in at less than twenty cents to see. Still, the lone disappointment with the film had to be the fact that Starman never got a chance to make ‘nice’ with any of the handful of attractive young Japanese babes on hand. It’s simply not fair to leave such allure in the air, and then not consummate it. I’d have to give this film a slight recommendation, if only for its silly camp value, and inoffensive mind-numbing. That’s still better than the majority of superhero films today. Areola power!
"A sinister cabal of superior writers."
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