My dear readers, while this digital publication has given me ample opportunity to expand on the particulars of the Hauntedhouse line, there is one matter that I have been hesitant to address in so public a fashion, as broaching the subject in any format can give me something of a chill. There is a peculiar ailment that has befallen many an individual in my lineage and I must say, in my more isolated moments, I find cause to worry that this hereditary adversary will be the source of my downfall. It begins with a light tremor in the hands, followed by heavy perspiration, communication with dead relatives, conviction that literal devils lurk around every corner and manifestations of a grim specter looming over the foot of one’s bed. Some have also reported trouble sleeping. I feared most terribly that the affliction had finally found me when a tremor took residence in my digits but I have been assured that this was merely the result of a “cardiovascular event,” which sounds positively festive by comparison. Still, though all seems clear for the present, one can never be overly vigilant when it comes to latent deleterious conditions.

Professor Donald Blake (Arthur Franz) is equally concerned about the consequences of his genetic legacy. Granted, the man has a somewhat broader approach to the matter, as he is particularly preoccupied with us humble homo sapiens as a whole. It is an important subject, to be sure, and Professor Blake handles it with the relentless attention it demands. It truly does not take much prodding to get the professor pontificating on humanity’s rather wayward path to its contemporary form. Students, assistants and significant others are all subject to sudden improvised lectures on the lingering bits of violent ancestors floating about the old human makeup. Even his wife making feeble attempts to discuss their relationship quickly leads to a monologue on coelacanth blood.

But Blake’s familiarity with this subject becomes even deeper still after he mishandles a fossilized amphibian. An open wound on his hand manages to introduce ancient irradiated plasma to his system, a hematological abnormality that occasionally causes him to shed his developmental trappings and revert to a primitive state. With temple broadened, eyebrows unified, mandible misshapen and reason abandoned, this more brutish Blake sends furniture askew and throttles the occasional person to death. Poor Donald is not initially aware of these temporary transformations and is just as surprised as anyone to find his laboratory in shambles and a young acquaintance murdered just outside his domicile. But evidence that he might moonlight as a murderous neanderthal rattles him quite thoroughly and he takes dramatic steps to ensure these mutations cease forthwith.

Director Jack Arnold, beloved crafter of science fiction tales, is a reliable hand when it comes to creatures running amok and he faithfully presents several of them for our viewing enjoyment. But while primeval sea-dwellers, giant dragonflies and collegiate cavemen are certainly a good bit of fun, Monster on the Campus is about more than lovely practical effects. When it comes to educating the public on matters of import to the species as a whole, it is essential to accommodate those who fail to gain much from traditional teaching tactics. For these individuals, Professor Blake conceives a much more illustrative opportunity to point out the dangers of devolution. Metamorphosing into a neanderthal and rampaging about the place really does drive home everything he has been saying about mankind’s precarious position. It is an educational style that may not suit every student’s needs, as it favors those who benefit from visual learning and “hands-on” techniques. But those who are keen about such methods will prosper greatly.

And while it may seem specific to academia, I feel as though this approach could aid a person in any profession. When a cause is important enough, sometimes a dramatic visual aid is necessary.

Monster on the Campus runs 77 minutes and has been rated “approved.”