starring: Ray Milland, Diana Van der Vlis, Harold Stone and Don Rickles
directed by: Roger Corman

the plot: Dr. James Xavier (Milland) is working on a radical serum that will give users x-ray vision. Xavier's initial experiments on animals yield promising results, but the good doctor wants some immediate, firsthand experience with the serum. Against the wishes of his friends, he drops the x-ray serum into his eyes and suddenly finds he can see through clothing, walls and even flesh. Xavier's new powers frighten Dr. Diane Fairfax (Van der Vlis), his newfound love interest and funding coordinator for his research. Fairfax and Xavier's best friend Sam Brant (Stone) confront the man, but in a freak accident, Xavier kills Brant and goes on the lam. He winds up working a carnival sideshow under the name "Mentallo," and, at the behest of the scheming carnival director (Rickles), scams marks out of their money. Soon, Xavier starts to lose control of his enhanced sight and begins to witness frightening visions that may be from another dimension.

why it's not so good: I first read about X in grade school in "Science Fiction's Greatest Monsters," a slim volume about great, pre-1980s sci-fi films. The description of the film's climax, in which Xavier tears out his eyes and shouts "I can still see!" was burned into my imagination and made X a must see. And so it was disappointing to discover that not only is that scene not in the movie (the apocryphal sequence was discussed but never filmed, according to Corman), but what did make it in is pretty lame. X starts out promising, with a long opening shot of a bloody eyeball floating in a beaker. Unfortunately, after Xavier gets his x-ray powers, nothing exciting happens. The character is surly and all around unlikable, and it's never really clear what he wants to do with his x-ray vision in the first place. After the abrupt death of Xavier's friend, the film just kind of limps toward an unsatisfying climax that's made even more painful by Milland's wooden, monotone performance.

why you should own it: Unless you're a Corman completist or a 1960s sci-fi aficionado, there's really no reason to own X. It provides for a bit of cheesy fun, but X is firmly in the rental category.