Manos: The Hands of Fate is a crude, crude movie. So crude in-fact that it barely qualifies as a movie at all. Production value, technical craft and acting talent are completely absent so the only redeeming quality about this movie (aside from the unintentional comedy value) is that it’s an example of independent horror filmmaking in the 1960s. Harold P. Warren wouldn’t go on to acheive the same cult status as Herschell Gordon Lewis but somehow Manos has earned itself a loyal cult following. The fact I watched this thing on a blu-ray (!!) loaded with extra features is pretty crazy. As terrible as this film is, I can’t deny I enjoyed it. Basically the 1966 equivalent of a shitty YouTube video.