The 1968 Roger Corman quick-buck job Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women is pure drive-in garbage and I mean that in the best possible way. Astronauts smash down on foggy Venus, accidentally fry some flying lizard the local blonde Venusian broads treat like God himself, so the telepathic sea-shell-bikini girls turn their psychic powers loose and try to wipe the Earth men off the map.

It doesn’t work. The boys blast off, ditch their busted robot in a volcanic mud pit, and leave the planet behind while the women keep staring at the sky with murder in their eyes.

Corman grabbed big chunks of a 1962 Soviet sci-fi picture, painted over the red stars, dubbed it into bad English, then hired Peter Bogdanovich to shoot fresh scenes full of Mamie Van Doren and other stacked blondes wiggling around in clamshell tops just to juice up the American market.

The whole thing is cheap, obvious, and shameless, exactly the kind of trash that makes a man smile in the dark. And yeah, it’s goddamn awesome.