You might not recognize the name at first glance, but if you grew up watching late-show horror pictures in the 1960s, odds are you've seen the work of director Richard Cunha. The handful of films he directed in the late 1950s virtually define the drive-in, B-movie era of maverick, low-budget filmmaking. From the marauding 500-year-old conquistador of Giant From the Unknown, to the Nazi scientists and mutant native girls of She Demons, to the rock men, juvenile delinquents and giant spiders of Missile to the Moon, if it was exploitable, Cunha had it covered. With Frankenstein's Daughter, Cunha and partner Marc Frederic appropriated a name with built-in cachet and ran with it, fashioning a film that cult-movie lovers can't seem to forget.

B MONSTER: Of all your films, readers seem to ask us about Frankenstein's Daughter most often. Care to hazard a guess as to why that might be the one they remember best?

RICHARD CUNHA: I guess that the name Frankenstein has been well exploited and indicates in one word that there is horror connected with it. I think people remember the title and not necessarily the film.

"Goddess of love in a city of sin!"
Fabulous Fabiola

"Why do warm-blooded beauties suddenly turn to stone?!"
Mill of the Stone Women

"Monsters come out of screen! Invade audience!"
Monsters Crash the Pajama Party

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