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The Undying Monster

(1942)

There's a legend that some monster wants to constantly lay the smackdown on this one family, but the main chick in this flick isn't buying it, that is until her brother gets bushwhacked on his way home one night. The best part is when they go looking for him; at first they only find what's left his dog, at which point they have this brilliant conversation:

Main Chick: "Is he dead?"
Complete Idiot: "Horribly."

Is there any other way to be dead? Duh. This detective shows up and starts nosing around, but the only interesting thing he finds is this statue of a werewolf with huge tits. You wouldn't think they'd be ballsy enough to sneak something like that into a movie made in the 1940s, but seriously, I haven't seen a rack like that on a werewolf since they cancelled She-Wolf of London. That's great. Anyway, everybody putzes around for a while until finally it turns out that the brother is actually the one making all the trouble because he's crazy and thinks he's a werewolf. He's so crazy, in fact, that he grows hair all over his body and everything. Uh, wouldn't that mean he really is a werewolf? Irregardless, a bunch of cops shoot him in the face and that's the end of him, which also means he isn't exactly "undying", you hyperbolic idiots. Duh.