Wendell Corey stars in Man-Eater of Kumaon about an American doctor in India who is both disillusioned and bored with life. He gives up the medical profession for a Hemingway existential existence as a tiger hunter for hire.One of the tigers however that he only wounded has turned into man- killer as the fleeter prey of the jungle he's used to dieting on can no get away from him. And in the strange ways of the Indian jungle that tiger has a bead on Corey now.But for now the tiger is haunting a village where the head man is Morris Carnovsky with his son Sabu and his daughter-in-law Joy Page. The tiger attacks Page and her son with the boy killed and Page wounded enough so that she will not bear more children.And these people won't even accept a young orphan whose parents were killed by the tiger as a substitute. Their patriarchal culture dictates she just go and Sabu marry another who can give him boy children. All I can say is that's better than a Suttee where if Sabu died, Page has to die with him in the same funeral pyre.In the end Corey's more humane western ideas prevail, but only at a sacrifice. Man-Eater Of Kumaon might have benefited from some location shooting in India, but that country was going through a nasty separation war with Pakistan. The rather cheap substitute location doesn't help.On the other hand the vocal narration which is left off, but sounds like Edgar Barrier really makes the animals and especially our killer tiger like characters in the story.A few more dollars for production values could have raised this one a notch or two higher in the ratings.

Tense direction, good acting by Corey and Sabu. Corbett was an animal rights enthusiast but shot and killed a lot of big cats in his day. Many Indian villagers owed their lives to him.Many people look at sadistic murderers and tigers in the same way, i.e., it's not their fault. This to me is sickening.Lovers of tigers need to know that tigers hunt and kill 300 villagers a year in the Sundabans mangrove swamps on the Bay of Bengal. Shamefully, the Indian government protects these tigers at the expense of its human population. This is not laudable to me. I'm sure PETA animal lovers would not wish to hunt wood in the swamps of the Sundabands, infested as it is with over 500 man-eating tigers.So much for the romance of the big cats.

Back in the 30's and 40's of the last century, Jim Corbett held the place in the popular imagination later taken up by Jacques Cousteau: an adventurer and passionate crusader for conservation. His books were enormous best sellers so it was inevitable that one would be bought for the movies. "The Man Eaters [note the plural] of Kumaon" described every tiger he had seen or heard of who attacked a human being. In every case he found that the beast was sick or wounded and only killed humans because he was unable to hunt wild game. You may think it a lame effort to exonerate dangerous animals but keep an open mind and then try to figure out how to make such a book into a movie. There might be other ways but this one works marvelously.A man (an American doctor) shoots at a tiger just as night is falling. He knows he has hit but when he reaches the spot where the tiger lurked he finds one severed toe and a trail of blood. Out of cowardice (the sun is setting)or carelessness (what the hell, it's only a tiger) he abandons the wounded creature to its fate. That's the first two minutes of the movie, in case you miss it. From here on, while sticking rigorously to Corbett's thesis, the movie utterly abandons his narrative and follows almost exactly the storyline of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein." If the movie is not more believable than her book, it is at least easier to understand. The monster has to kill to stay alive and isn't it right,just, even necessary, that it seek out the man who made it a monster? Especially in light of modern ideas about hunting in general and tigers in particular, this version is a lot easier to swallow than Shelley's Man vs. God allegory. I'll go so far as to say that the final scene is so right, so perfectly right, that Shelley would have used it in her book if she had thought of it.

In typical Hollywood style this film asserts that everyone in India is terribly spiritual and stiflingly serious. They wander about saying profound things about the meaning of life, while nobly suffering in poverty. Add to this a laughably sententious narration and an American on a spiritual quest (which somehow will be helped by shooting tigers)played without a shred of humour by Wendell Corey, and you have a pretty bad film.But there is the most wonderful tiger footage that makes sitting through the boring bits worthwhile. Well staged attacks on humans and animals, and a sensational sequence when the tiger fights a crocodile, are very exciting and beautifully photographed. No surprises that director Byron Haskin was one of the top cameramen of the silent era - it is when this film does not talk that it is at its best.