On first viewing this is indeed the classic of cinematic cheese that deserves it's ignominous reputation: the woman in the wasp(?) costume, such as it is, is high on the list of least scary monsters ever seen on screen. But a second viewing revealed it to be an allegory on the dilemma of the post WW II Everywoman, tiring of the gilded cage Cinderella existence they had so eagerly embraced when the boys came back, they dropped their riveters and assumed the role of Ladies of their Levittown Manors. Still caught in the age-old dilemma of trying to get ahead in a man's world, frustrated that the only thing she has to sell is youthful beauty, and the desperate measures she is compelled to take to preserve it.
Review of The Wasp Woman
