A fallen crime boss wants revenge on the men who helped convict him years ago so he does what anybody in a 1950s horror film written by Curt Siodmak would do. He gets together with a German atomic scientist, steals a bunch of fresh corpses, and then gives them atomic-powered brain transplants that transform them into radio-controlled Frankenstein monsters who can go out and kill for him.
And yeah, yeah, yeah all of that stuff is dandy entertainment during this film’s brisk seventy minutes, but the real highlight here is the hilariously sexist relationship between our hero, police forensics guy Chet Walker (played by Richard Denning) and his put-upon wife, Joyce (played by dimpled blonde 
bombshell Angela Stevens). The film repeatedly goes out of its way to get comic relief out of her being put in her place. Any curiosity Joyce expresses in her husband’s action-packed work is stifled by a harsh look from the man of the house, leading her to pout back to the kitchen. In all of her scenes, she’s either in a robe or an apron. In one scene, she tries sampling a martini she’s prepared for the king of the castle only to find herself too delicate to handle it.
Some sources say that this was one of the earliest films to use squibs—exploding packets of stage blood attached to actors to simulate gun shot wounds—and the sight unnerved some Eisenhower-era moviegoers.