The Devil Came from Akasava

Who? What? Why? Where? Such is the inner voice of the viewer watching The Devil Came from Akasava, a madcap secret agent adventure that feels as though William Burroughs has been hacking at the script to make cut-ups. Unfortunately the raw material itself is pretty banal. This is meant to be a comic-strip spy thriller, but without the money to construct exciting action sequences Franco is forced to pad out his light-hearted tale with talk, talk, and lots more talk. Characters come and go and the plot darts around frantically, running only so far with an idea before dropping it absent-mindedly. What’s needed is more cash for spectacular set-pieces, and a decent script replete with cool dialogue and a sense of irony. Sadly, Franco can’t squeeze enough money from producer Artur Brauner, and the script, which mistakes incident for drama, is neurotically busy without being very amusing.

Franco goes back and mines one of his favorite themes, the spy genre, in this cheap but psychedelic little gem. Don’t expect James Bond-esque filmmaking here, just a wacky story of the discovery and theft of a mineral that can turn ordinary metals into gold and people into mindless zombies. … There may be those who wonder where the action is in the movie, but if the sight of Soledad Miranda with a gun and working as an exotic dancer leaves you cold, then the movie wasn’t for you in the first place.