A. Prehistoric Atomic Critters

The dinosaurs walk again; thanks mostly to our Atomic Age messing with fossils, DNA, and causing mutants into the bargain. I’m including Kronos, who is actually a robot, but behaves in most ways like a reanimated dinosaur.

Gorgo, 1961.

********* 9.0

"The Tranquilizer SEEMS To Be Working..." "So Far..."

Gorgo does everything right. As much as I like The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms, I think Gorgo is a bit better. All of the stock devices are in play: the initial isolated setting with taciturn locals, some quasi-geological explanation for the monster’s appearance, its subsequent emergence (in this case abduction) to the nearest big city, fighting the navy and then the army (well, that’s the mother Gorgo’s job), a last ditch attempt to kill the monster(s) after it leaves a swath of wreckage, and then an unresolved exit by the monsters.

All of which happens at a nice pace. The most interesting plot aspect was the fact that the two main characters (Bill Travers and William Sylvester) aren’t exactly good guys. Their angle is completely commercial; along with the impresario Dorkin (Martin Benson) they go into the freak show business with the baby Gorgo. They get their comeuppance when the gigantic adult Gorgo shows up. The problem is, their selfishness can’t be undone, as London is shaken up pretty bad.

Makes you wonder how they were allowed to take charge of the thing in the first place--as though it were just another zoo animal. That’s emblematic of an unsolvable problem in movies of this type: the main characters would naturally be brushed aside in a real-world scenario. Since, in that case, we would just have a documentary from the authorities’ point of view, we’d lose all sense of drama. Only in a movie that doesn’t shift from an isolated setting can we believe that there’s no ’authorities’.

The fact that there’s really no good guys here (except for the kid) explains the smuggled baby Gorgo; to keep our disbelief suspended, it might’ve been better had this been completely secret. The seamy undercurrent was established by the village plunderer/salvager McCartin (Christopher Rhodes) who has a nice collection of Viking artifacts-- among them, a Gorgo-like dragon’s head, presumably a ship’s bow decoration.

There’s maybe a bit too much of McCartin; but his cache subtly hints at Gorgo’s mythic nature. Why give the monster a Roman-derived name, since we’re dealing with Nordic stuff here? In any case, the little Gorgo gets into action at the 13 minute mark, so things pick up quickly.

It’s a good device having a second, more menacing monster. This allows the plot to ’reboot’, so to speak, as events take a darker turn, and the stakes are raised. The warship attack brings up another good device: the false ending--as the admiral is convinced that "no living thing could survive." Of course it does, though. The naval action is well done; despite the noted use of stock footage, it seems to blend in.

Then we have the cool monster-comes-ashore bit. The fire in the harbor doesn’t do much, which is good; we want multiple types of attack to keep things interesting. Then the predictable--but no less exciting--panic, evacuation, trampled-doll-in-the-street stuff. The payoff in this genre is the hapless city’s destruction. No disappointment here, either. Big Gorgo does a job on notable landmarks and stuff in between.

The modelling is as good if not better than in Beast From 20,000 Fathoms and the Godzilla-themed movies. Some folks think that the monster itself looks catoonish or too phony. It’s not quite as good as the Beast (From 20,000...) but decently menacing. The Admiral was quite correct that conventional weapons would destroy such a monster, but that would be too easy...In any case, the army units put on a good, believable show.

One thing that could be cleaned up is the uselessness of small arms fire. I guess they have to give all he extras something to do; but if the naval weapons haven’t stopped it, anything less than heavy weapons (tanks, missles, etc.) is absurd. The best scene with the big Gorgo comes just as its about to test the electrical trap. It’s lurking against the night sky, the lights from fires giving it an eerie glow, the carefree atmosphere of the carnival violated by its presence--very macabre--a moment of horror.

Sort of unusually, the ultimate weapon (4000 volts) isn’t exotic, and also doesn’t work. Another false ending; in fact that is the ending. By this time the newscaster has sort of taken over as narrator; another good move, as we’re summing up and giving a broader view. Civilization is ok, but just ok--we’ve got a reprieve, and that’s all. As many have noted, it is weird that there’s no female characters; in fact, no one really stands out amongst the guys either. Not weak performances, very even actually.

This is a case of the story being more important than any particular character. Since the vast majority of sci-fi movies from this era (not to mention in other 50s and 60s movie genres) had female characters only as ornaments for the lead guys, it was probably better to not have romance subplots (i.e., with women) in a movie that isn’t character-driven anyway.

Another glossed-over issue was the usual bunch of scientists huddling up to figure out the monster, and getting in the way of its destruction. The scientists here are less important than the get-rich-quick guys. I think, for the most part, the different emphases given to some elements helps to distinguish Gorgo from other contemporary monster movies. Despite some missteps, Gorgo does so many things well--both predictably and unexpectedly--that it remains a very entertaining experience. 9/10.

The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms, 1953.

********* 9.0

Probably my favorite atomic-age sci-fi movie. Very influential in jump-starting Godzilla, Gorgo, and other nuclear-enhanced reborn dinosaurs. If not the best of the 1950s-1960s giant monster movies; it’s the most memorable, from the squashed toy cars to the scary diving bell and lighthouse attacks. Stars Paul Hubschmid, Paula Raymond, Cecil Kellaway, Kenneth Tobey, Donald Woods, and in a small, but crucial role, Lee Van Cleef.

We learn from a narrator that there’s a nuclear test blast in the Arctic; pretty spectacular iceberg slides, as well as the mushroom cloud itself. Sure enough, though, there’s “something strange” on the radar screen. A detachment from the closest base takes a tracked vehicle into the test area to investigate–radiation (surprise!) is pretty bad there. In the haze of a blizzard, one guy, George Ritchie (Ross Elliot) sees a dinosaur roar past, and again, closer up. But then George falls into a crevice, breaking a leg. Unfortunately, because of an avalanche, Professor Tom Nesbitt (Hubschmid) is unable to rescue George, but not before he sees the monster too.

Back at the base, then, quickly, down to New York. To a psych ward, no less; obviously because Tom claims to have seen a prehistoric monster. Colonel Evans (Tobey) comes to visit him, but he’s found no traces of the creature, and doesn’t credit his story either. Well, the next incident is some validation, as a good old fishing boat gets attacked, not by an avalanche, not by the wind, but by an actual creepy gigantic monster.

The next morning, Tom reads about a “sea serpent” sinking the boat. With time-honored the-heck-with-the-authorities righteousness, Tom just leaves the hospital, dropping in on a paleontologist, Professor Thurgood Elson (Kellaway). “Couldn’t it (the monster) have been in a state of hibernation?” Elson is as incredulous as the others, but Lee Hunter (Raymond), the professor’s assistant, more or less vouches for him.

Back at Nesbitt’s Atomic Energy Commission office, Lee comes calling. She tells him there’s more ship-sunk-by-monsters stories. Later, at her place, she shows him innumerable sketches of dinosaurs. Shazam! He finds a good likeness. So, Lee figures if they go to see the surviving captain of the fishing boat with the pictures…maybe that guy can confirm the sighting.

The captain doesn’t want to talk about it. “They think he’s crazy too” Tom concludes. Anyway, Tom goes up to Canada to see the guy. “A bloomin’ hermit he wants to be” says a local. Now, Tom finds another survivor, appropriately, in a hospital. Initially, the guy’s too wound up, but Tom’s able to get him talking. The guy agrees to come to New York. Sure enough he identifies the same picture as the monster he saw. That persuades Elson that there’s something to this after all; I’m not sure why that’s so convincing. Meanwhile, there’s the terrific lighthouse attack–the guys trying to hustle down the stairs while the whole structure collapses in on them is very disturbing. Due to Elson’s influence, the Coast Guard helps out.

That event sets up the very good diving bell scene. Elson and the seaman see a fantastic squid v. shark fight; no sooner is that in the books than the rhedosauras comes creeping along. Somewhat like the other attacks, the creature just destroys the bell, Elson and all. Of course, Lee and Tom are devastated, but there’s no question now that the thing’s real, and very dangerous.

The very creepy juxtaposition of the waterfront, with the nonchalant workers going about their business–interrupted with the gigantic creature coming ashore–is excellent. The rampage is quite well done; it’s a very long scene, punctuated first by the bravery of the lone policemen shooting at the monster. I’ll never forget him getting gobbled up (having first watched this movie about 1960 on TV). Yes, we do see the same toy car getting crushed a few times, and other repetitious stuff, but the sense of horror remains palpable for me, even after all these years.

The panicky crowd bits are well-done too; sensibly, most of the people head for the subways. Another interesting thing is the vulnerability of the creature. It’s wounded by the array of weaponry thrown at it; which actually has the nasty consequence of exposing its radioactive blood. That means, of course, that we need a trick weapon to kill it, as blowing it to bits would be catastrophic for us “the entire city could be in danger.”

Why creatures have to bug amusement parks is an odd thing, maybe it’s the idea of a deep loss of innocence. That is, it’s one thing to attack an isolated spot or a military installation, but something that exists only for fun should be off limits. Some crime movies use an amusement park setting for a climatic escape or shootout–probably for the same reason– that evil shouldn’t be there.

Anyway, we’ve got the Sergeant (Van Cleef) for the “radio-active isotope” rifle grenade deal. The literal roller coaster ride up to the firing position, with all of associations of thrill and fear, the runaway coaster cars, and ramped-up (!) danger of getting thrown to your death, and/or incinerated, is superb drama. Well, Van Cleef doesn’t miss, and the grenade does the job.

I wouldn’t have watched this movie so many times over the decades if it didn’t captivate me. It seems just right in nearly every way. The suspension of disbelief is readily accomplished and sustained; there’s just enough explanation to make the plot credible without many bits straying out of line too much. I do think that two people responding to the same dinosaur picture is slim evidence for Elson’s conclusions. It would help if, say, there’s a Coast Guard sighting of the thing before it’s completely believed.

The other issue, which is generic to this type of movie, involves the nuclear blast that effectively ‘defrosts’ the monster. Ok, but how is it that it’s not ‘overcooked’? I suppose it is, in a sense, because the radioactive blood would eventually kill it anyway. I’m quibbling, though, as The Beast 20K could hardly be better.

I was surprised on this viewing at how much lead-in there is before the creature shows up in New York City. Usually, that sort of delayed pay-off doesn’t help maintain interest. But here it works. The long set-up is a nice mystery in itself. It’s so elegantly plotted that the rampage and denouement almost seem like extra goodies. The pacing slowly builds momentum and tension, so that once the creature is ashore, everything happens very quickly. The very end is pared down too–there’s no wedding or narrator telling us what we saw. All that’s implicit.

There’s really no subplots to distract from the story; the monster is the star. It’s very menacing; it even sounds like a monster. Since all of the characters form a sort of collective antagonist to the monster, there’s no need for a bad guy per se. In a way, the lack of focus on the characters draws the viewer in, to make us feel closer to the events. It’s as though we’re hearing about this on the radio or seeing it on live TV. This is not only a great monster movie, it’s simply a very well-made movie.

The Giant Behemoth, 1959.

****** 6.0

Along with Gorgo, The Giant Behemoth qualifies as the British Godzilla or The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms (The Beast for short); that is, the dinosaur awakened from a million-years slumber by atomic testing/radiation. All three movies spun from the same director, Eugene Lourie.

There’s definitely a pattern to this sort of movie: a remote setting incubates the monster, there’s a series of attacks on isolated spots, and then, along with the scientist(s), the military, the ‘girl’ (she can be a scientist too), locals, etc., the beast inevitably heads for the nearest big city. Destruction and panic ensue, until the intrepid group of experts put their heads together and comes up with some lashed-up weapon to kill the thing.

The implicit threat to the world at large is defeated, although in some plots, the thing might have a return ticket. Like it or not, this outline is the only sensible plot for this sort of movie. The genius comes in just how each step of this process unfolds. Behemoth stars Gene Evans, Andre Morrell, Jack MacGowan, Leigh Madison, Henri Vidon, and John Turner.

Cornwall isn’t quite as remote as, let’s say, the Arctic Circle or a Pacific island, nonetheless, we get fishermen there; those unlucky folks always seem to get infested with or in the way of giant monsters. In this case though, it’s not clear where or which of the hundred plus atomic explosions alluded to by Steve Karnes (Evans) is the trigger for yon Behemoth.

The result of the fishing village stuff is a very long intro; old guy gets irradiated by the Behemoth, but not a heck of a lot happens for awhile. Dissecting fish doesn’t register very high on the sci-fi screen for me; nor do meetings of scientists, including Professor Bickford (Morrell), with officials. I did kind of like the paleontologist Dr. Sampson (MacGowran), he’s amusing, maybe unintentionally, as he looks and acts like a British Maynard Krebs (Bob Denver’s beatnik role from the contemporaneous TV show Dobie Gillis).

“With a thing like this every hour counts!” You’re right, Karnes, so get on with it. Back in Cornwall, we find out that the dead fish looked like…dead fish! That’s a good one, Mr. Local Guy. Unfortunately, John (Vidon) and Lee (Madison) completely fade out of the picture once the action moves back to London. Like The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms that made his mark in New York City, this critter wants to return to its ancestral location, conveniently situated along the Thames, that is, London. Another great line is the grandma listening with her family to a radio broadcast of the imminent danger “oh, fiddlesticks!” No monster is going to upset that house.

From here on, it seems we’ve lost our budget and/or creativity. The ferry attack is very awkward, with a toy boat, toy cars, and no people. The Behemoth, very much like his cousin The Beast, steps on toy cars, repeatedly. At least that’s more or less a side note in Beast, but in Behemoth almost all credibility is lost, as there’s the same bunch of people running by the same cars (I wish the monster had crushed the renowned establishment of Braithewaite & Dean since we’ve been treated to window-shopping there enough times to run up a tab). In The Beast, when the monster picks up the car with the guy inside, we see the car tipping precariously from the guy’s point of view. Here the car rocks slightly, then all we see is a toy car lifted up dumped in a basin. Then, this clown waits for the monster, when he could’ve at least tried to escape.

The very protracted radium-tipped torpedo attack is similar in theory to the rifle grenade radioactive isotope weapon that killed The Beast. But the ‘execution’ of it is nothing at all like the literal roller coaster ride that finishes off that The Beast. In that movie, the denouement is a fitting climax to many powerful scenes; in Behemoth, it’s just something that needs to get done, the sooner the better.

For one thing, how does Karnes suddenly qualify to crew a submarine? Why is the Thames look like a completely blank bit of nothing? (no rocks, fish, plants, debris, etc.) And the monster is pretty much a rubber toy underwater. How does it move? Is the torpedo really so accurate that they can shoot it into its open mouth?

Of the director’s three giant monster movies, The Beast is the best, Gorgo isn’t far behind, but the Behemoth is fairly disappointing. Actually, just as the Corwall scenes get interesting, the movie loses momentum; the opposite of the heightened tension in both Gorgo and The Beast as the monster approaches the city. Like the nondescript outline of the creature projected on the water’s surface, The Giant Behemoth flattens out.

Rodan, 1956.

******** 8.0

"Monsters Stirring In The Darkness"

Rodan has all the trappings of early sci-fi classics: nuclear tests, giant creatures coming out of mineshafts, a ’UFO’ destroying planes and ships, puzzled officials and scientists wondering what’s happening, the shell-shocked guy (the protagonist Shigeru) wandering about with repressed memories, and, of course, plenty of scenes of destruction.

Unlike most American sci-fi movies of the era, in which there’s often a sort of ad hoc romantic subplot, Shigeru and Kiyo’s relationship works because their characters are integrated with the main plot. One memorable scene points out this link: while he cradles the bird’s nest at Kiyo’s house, he has a sudden flashback to his discovery of the giant egg in the mineshaft. The pacing deftly builds crisis after crisis; there’s no wasted scenes or slow points.

As a monster, Rodan has a sort of mythic, abstract quality. Although he’s fairly realistically portrayed as a type of enormous Pterodactyl, his destructive power is incidental; it’s the result of shock waves from his wings, not radioactivity or fiery breath. He seems to represents an uncontrollable, superhuman power, like nuclear weapons, or simply fear.

The actual scenes of destruction are amazingly well done; it’s really hard to tell if and when it’s models being wiped out. Also, there’s many types of destruction: people, buildings, vehicles, bridges, aircraft, not to mention the many bits of man-made (from the atomic blasts to the military counterattack) and natural destruction (the earthquake and volcanic eruption).

Another nice touch is the tragic tone; as both the Rodans die in the volcanic flames, "it’s as though something human were dying" the narrator tells us. As the plot develops, the monster takes center stage, becoming, in effect, the main character(s). Modern sci-fi movies are usually too egocentric, showcasing the actors and their subplots instead of focusing on the monster.

Rodan is so entertaining that I wonder why there haven’t been any sequels. I guess Godzilla had more ’personality’, so he got the attention. Rodan isn’t necessarily a better monster than Godzilla, but I’m intrigued by his (and her) rather austere presence.

It’s too bad that Japanese sci-fi got a reputation as silly, cartoonish movies for kids, thanks to the dumbed-down versions of the 60s and 70s, because Rodan is thoughtful, serious, and very well-made.

Kronos

********* 9,0

UFO Zaps Motorist; Giant Robot Gets Blamed

Very different than the expected classic-era sci-fi fare. For one thing, there’s a dual structure to the plot; first we see a semi-typical flying saucer appearance putting earthlings on alert; complete with scientists and military figuring out a nuclear missile response. In addition, there’s alien-possession of one of the scientists. All of which leads to that superb device of the false ending. Meaning a new beginning from one sort of threat to another, in a different locale. That is, the appearance of the gigantic robot Kronos subsequent to the asteroid/UFO crashing off the Mexican coast.

Jeff Morrow is Dr. Leslie Grant, John Emery the big cheese scientist, Dr. Eliot, at the scientists at a top-secret government lab. Barbara Lawrence is Vera, that is, ’the girl’. the military is represented by General Perry (John Parrish) in a brief role.

A very convincing UFO lands and attacks/zaps the obligatory pick up truck driver McCrary (Kenneth Alton) on a lonely desert highway at night. So he’s possessed, and finds his way to the lab. He lights up with UFO juice, and zaps Dr. Elliot, the Director. Meanwhile, a technician gets data, err, "the straight dope" on an asteroid/UFO. There’s a cool display that receives images from the observatory above.

Eliot retreats into a super-secret room. Dr. Grant is concerned when their computer goes haywire, but quickly figures out that the asteroid will hit earth in 16 hours...unless we destroy it first. So, we get some appropriate stock footage of missile prep and launching.

Eliot lurks about, and a primitive video monitor shows the missiles converge on the UFO--but it’s not destroyed. Eliot has some sort of seizure, and collapses. Suspense develops, as the tumbling asteroid careens over cities before hitting the drink off the Mexican coast. So, at about :25 minutes in, some are declaring victory, or at least relief. Eliot’s sort of recovering.

Dr. Grant wisely figures that the UFO showed incredible resiliency, as well as some intent, both by surviving and navigating. So they hustle down to Mexico, Vera included. Time for some Dr. Grant/Vera romance. Eliot’s getting communications from the UFO; Vera sees a gigantic metallic hemisphere emerge from the ocean. Eliot comes out of his trance, but the doctors think he’s nuts. Indirectly, then, Eliot offers the explanation (which they think is delusional) that the alien presence seeks Earth’s energy to recharge its dwindling supply.

One of the best moments in all of classic-era sci-fi, the sudden appearance of Kronos on the shore, never fails to excite. Given the unique premise that Kronos is not a creature, but a giant robot, is that the intrepid scientists can literally see into inside of it. The best of the era’s technological simulations stock the robot’s ’guts’. Eliot, under the alien’s influence once again, escapes after electrocuting his doctor.

As much as I admire the ingenuity of this creation, Kronos’s mobility is a bit questionable. Even seeing this as a kid on TV in the early ’60s, it was clearly absurd that the thing could ’walk’ merely by stamping its feet. Some of the Japanese monsters of the era got around this problem by having some sort of incongruous rocket-assist for propulsion. Actually, the large shaft of light between Kronos’s ’feet’ serves as a somewhat more plausible propulsion method.

Eliot more or less is in control of where Kronos goes by transmitting target coordinates. The AIr Force attack leads to the planes’ destruction by a sort of force field projected from Kronos. Its march across the countryside is a clever combination of animation, modeling, and live action. One nice detail is that the robot can ’hunker down’ to protect itself. Vera and Grant make it back to their headquarters, finding Eliot very much in charge.

He’s playing into the alien’s hands by authorizing an H-bomb attack--which Grant correctly points out will only make Kronos stronger. Stock footage of a B-47 taking off, presumably set to drop the bomb. Vera and Leslie figure out that Eliot escaped from the hospital; as a rather death-defying shock shakes off some his alien control. So, he gives up the correct plan to "reverse the process" of converting matter into energy.

Conveniently for the mission, Kronos is in the middle of nowhere. A good bit of suspense ensues, as the B-47 is called off, but Kronos locks in on it: the H-bomb goes off. Some creepy slime drizzles out of Eliot, an almost horror-like image of a departing spirit. Another false ending "Failure" (of the H-bomb to destroy Kronos) read the headlines.

Onward with the lab: "Destroy the monster with its own energy" (by) "an internal chain reaction". Kronos is on a destructive rampage, shown by stock footage (of earthquakes?) and burning, collapsing model cities; it heads for an A-bomb stockpile. A single fighter jet has to drop the magic particle stuff just so. Lots of cool fireworks and lightning effects as Kronos literally melts down. A nuclear-like blast acts as its finale.

Kronos, along with Them!, The Thing, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms, and The Day the Earth Stood Still, is one of the best-made and most creative of 1950s sci-fi films. The pacing is excellent, the acting is even, the plot, with its double-focus of alien-possession/extra-terrestrial robot (and the UFO/Kronos segments), and generally well-conceived special effects (even the noises Kronos makes are otherworldly), draw us in right away and sustain interest throughout.

Godzilla, 1954.

******** 8.0

Good Old-Fashioned Godzilla

Having accepted the 1956 ’Raymond Burr’ Godzilla as the definitive version for many decades, I’m glad I finally came across the 1954 original. At first I didn’t like having so much backstory, as well as the love triangle subplot. Now I feel the original is better than the 1956 version.

There is a lot of time spent on the remote island that’s Godzilla’s lair, but it’s well-paced and includes the ship-sinkngs as well as Godzilla’s appearance on the island. It seems that he appears in Tokyo Bay in no time. Intervening scenes of public meetings and consultations with scientists make sense, and add tension.

Despite the incredible premise of a prehistoric creature emerging from its underwater habitat due to nuclear testing, we can suspend disbelief because of the plot’s inner consistency (with an exception I’ll get into later) and the palpable human scale of the drama. The various meetings show people genuinely stressed and panicked--clearly there’s no blueprint for dealing with this crisis.

The love triangle fits into the main plot because Serizawa, Emiko, and Ogata are all central characters. Serizawa gives us another subplot as a mad scientist type obsessed with "a new form of energy." He’s not evil, however, as he really wants to use the "oxygen destroyer" for humanitarian purposes. But he has a dilemma: if it’s used to kill Godzilla; he’s risking its subsequent use as a weapon. As Ogata convincingly says, in effect, if we can’t kill Godzilla we won’t be around anyway.

Emiko stands for the moral center, literally between the two men, and as the embodiment of beauty and goodness. These attributes are given form by a short scene of girls singing in church. As we switch back to Surizawa, he agrees with Emiko and Ogato to help. He realizes that the collective good is more important than individual recognition; it’s actually sad when he sacrifices himself.

As a result of the carefully-written subplots, we’re more involved with the main characters. We’re not just watching a bunch of people yelling at each other while the monster snuffs them out. The destruction scenes are definitely good; especially watching the train engineers as they face doom, and the fireman caught up in the overturning fire engine.

Of course the trucks, cars, trains, ships, and buildings are obviously toys/models when viewed from the outside, but the transition from inner to outer views is smoothly done. The modelling is done to a fairly high level.

My quibble aren’t with the special-effects. There’s a bit of a logic problem with the islanders. If they have developed a mythology for Godzilla, then presumably he’s been around for a while; but certainly not for more than a few years, as the H-Bomb didn’t exist until 1949. Maybe an archetypal memory of Godzilla from prehistoric times...?

There’s pretty much every sci-fi motif here: a remote island, disappearing ships, radioactive and nuclear testing, an emerging monster, experts unsure of how to respond, a mad scientist, an invasion/destruction of a city, and a secret weapon (courtesy of our mad scientist).

To cap it all off is Godzilla himself. As many others have noted, this is the scariest of all Godzillas. He isn’t as ’tricked-out’ as he is in some later versions, but is somehow more animal-like, and less animated. Great viewing experience, and a more complete story than in most movies of this genre.

Mothra, 1961.

***** 5.0

"The Girls Are Not Humans. They Are Merchandise!"

I’m of two minds about Mothra. It’s certainly unique, creating a mythology for the monster; complete with an island habitat and its worshipful natives. The miniature girls add an even more exotic touch. There’s motifs of traditional culture, greed/exploitation, and nationalism. On the other hand, there’s a sweetness that lapses into camp and childishness.

After the dark, menacing Godzilla and Rodan from the mid-’50s, Japanese sci-fi veered into a lighter, playful tone in the 60s. Eventually, we had ’good’ monsters (Mothra, and even Godzilla) squaring off against ’bad’ ones (robots and aliens). It’s said that the change was done to attract young kids; judging by the number of more or less silly Japanese monster movies after Mothra, I guess that idea worked.

I remember first seeing Mothra on TV when I was about twelve in the mid-60s. Even then I thought the tone was weird. Mothra just wasn’t scary; my main reaction was that it was vaguely creepy. The singing girls seemed odd; the way they performed, gliding from that gilded coach to the stage, was very dream-like. Not badly done--in fact done very well, but disturbing.

Having a moth for a monster is just bizarre. Who’s afraid of moths? He’s even furry, sort of a teddy-bear. Maybe that’s an upgrade from his initial appearance as a giant tomato worm. The destruction scenes are fairly good, considering that we’re dealing with models and toys. Mothra’s abiity to spin a cocoon is even used as a weapon.

The Rolisican subplot is interesting in that it shows how Japan felt squeezed between the U.S and U.S.S.R. In fact, Rolisican military assistance is needed to attack Mothra’s cocoon. His subsequent emergence as a moth makes effective use of the ’not-so-fast’ ending. In no time at all he’s over New Kirk (York?) City. The cars and buildings blown about by his wings is a wild effect also used in Rodan.

The denouement is curious, but makes sense within the mythology at work here. Mothra’s attracted by the symbol on the airfield, which is a blend of the Christian cross with a rising sun behind it. West/East harmony achieved; he takes the miniature girls home to their island.

The originality of the story makes this interesting and watchable. The pacing is fine, the special effects good enough. Not much in the way of acting, though; I’d say there’s four characters: the Japanese guys, the Rolisican guys, the miniature girls, and Mothra. A different sort of monster movie.

Godzilla Raids Again, 1955.

******* 7/10

Following closely on the heels of the original Godzilla, this movie is a worthy sequel. It’s always a toughie to rationalize the reappearance of a supposedly dead monster: Godzilla Raids Again uses the plausible device of a second Godzilla, not to mention a companion monster, the Anklylosaur. Thus, the monster rivalry movie is born, a sub-genre of the post-war Japanese sci-fi movie.

The concept of a monster island (though given a different name here) is clever; nothing like a remote, mythical setting to cloak the impossible with misty suspension of disbelief. Also, since someone had to spot the prehistoric mayhem going on there, the human aspect of the plot comes to life (so to speak) with that setting. Another advantage of this sort of film, which is also factored into the human response, the authorities are well-versed in the monster, and don’t need to convince each other about it.

Also, just to make it more interesting, the renegade scientist character from the first Godzilla has inconveniently died. Since he was the one who had come up with the trick weapon to kill the original monster, the authorities are starting all over again. So, the road to saving Japan is familiar territory, but it’s not at all clear how to traverse it. But that scientist was by far the most interesting character in the 1954 film.

What we get here is a crime-drama subplot. A prison break leads to a (very spectacular) crash, explosion, and fire that attracts/repels Godzilla and the horned-turtle Anklylosaur. A huge trade-off in this sort of movie tends to be the near-invincibility of the monster(s) versus the actual power of the weapons used to attack it. I doubt that any creature could not be fazed by tank, missiles, rockets, and bombs. But to make it vulnerable would mean that the movie would be over in a few minutes.

So, we’ve got to accept that--except for trick weapons--we can only lure or deceive the monster for the most part. Regarding the monster’s themselves, Godzilla looks absolutely frightening; even if he were only twenty feet tall his menacing look would rouse about the same sense of fear and danger. The other guy, the Anklylosaur, is pretty disgusting too; just a few notches less scary. It’s just a bit too fanciful. Not really worth of Godzilla’s wrath. So, it’s fitting that after a long and destructive fight, Godzilla torches it with his unsavory breath.

The Japanese film industry is the expert on showing scenes of destruction. Although we can clearly see that some of the destroyed buildings are just facades, there’s very intricate and clever modelling apparent, even in close-ups. Once the monster fight is over, Godzilla splits the scene. We’re set up for that cool celebrating-too-soon situation: everyone relaxed because the threat seems to have passed. There’s a fancy dinner, singing, chanting, tons of laughter. A bit too much...but then, some frantic news. A ship’s sunk..."how do you know it’s Godzilla?"

Next thing is kind of like the beginning, when the fishing company’s spotter plane is on the lookout. "Godzilla spotted." Ok, so the military plans an air strike. The F-84s take off; the clutter plane circles the target (Godzilla’s on an Arctic island). I don’t how how the dubbing folks were allowed to get away with the pilot’s twice exclaiming "son of a _____!" in complete text. Apparently, Godzilla himself keeps it clean by destroying the foul-mouthed guy and his plane. His girlfriend is naturally upset that he’s gone down; ok, yeah, but I liked the criminal subplot better.

Of course, the fighters’ paltry conventional weapons do about nothing. Godzilla however, seems trapped in an ice flow. Good plan: some PT boats land barrels of gasoline on the beach; once ignited Godzilla’s forced away from the shore. Then the planes (F-86s this time) aim for the mountain peak, triggering a massive avalanche trap and bury Godzilla.

That’s brilliant, in a couple of days; a semi-natural weapon makes sense because it’s not only plausible, but doesn’t involve a pie-in-the-sky ridiculous magic weapon. The most important thing is that this manuever literally just puts Godzilla on ice. To be reawakened by a campfire a few years later. The end, as we see an obviously fake island just chilling in icy snowy peaks.

Godzilla Raids Again is very entertaining; and, although it lags a bit with the romance elements here and there, it offers a lot of monster action, decent suspense, and a workable plot. the special effects were ahead of their time in some respects; as I say elsewhere, a guy in a suit, done the way it is here, makes a believable monster for me--more so than a CGI thing that is over-detailed and less animate-looking. Almost as good as the original Godzilla, and well-worth a look for monster movie fans.

Ghidorah, The Three-Headed Monster, 1965.

******** 8.0

Doesn’t Ghidorah sound like some kind of Maserati? A gypsy girl’s name? No, three-headed monsters puts us in the sweet-spot (mid-’60s) of Japanese sci-fi movies. Notice I didn’t say Golden/Classic era. This is representative of the explosion of the genre from a more mythic, archaic past, as in the first Godzilla and Rodan from the decade before.

Nevertheless, as Japanese filmmakers delved deeper into the prehistoric-monster-reborn-thanks-to-atomic-bomb phase, the monsters and plots ran amok, often cartoonishly so, but sometimes the mash-up was well-done. That’s the case with Ghidorah. The main characters (other than the monsters) are Detective Shindo (Yosuke Natsuki), his girlfriend Naoko (Yuriko Hoshi), The Princess/Venusian (Akiko Wakabayashi), and Professor Miura (Hiroshi Kolzumi).

Superficially, the idea of making a monster into a good guy seems ridiculous, but it works to get kids into the audience. In that funny way that kids relate to powerful alter ego figures (The Lion King, the Frankenstein monster, etc.) a prehistoric dinosaur makes a cool friend. And, just so we don’t feel left out, there’s our surrogate monster insiders–the tiny singing girls from Mothra’s indigenous tribe.

Rather unbelievably, Ghidorah, who’s engendered from outer space, was toned-down (from a mythical eight-headed Japanese dragon. That tidbit thanks to TCM’s Ben Mankiewicz’s commentary on this film). Anyway, from the first moments, we learn: “You’ve got to admit, there’s a lot of strange things happening lately.” You bet. Like global warming it seems. Plus, a plot to assassinate a princess.”Sir, a UFO!” No, it’s a bunch of meteors.

We segue to the royal airplane (what a strange court she keeps). The princess is communicating somehow with an alien spacecraft. So, just like that, she steps out of the plane, presumably scooped up by the aliens. The plane explodes, and the UFO/another meteor zips into some mountains. So, on that spot, a meteorlike egg rests. Meanwhile, the police figure the princess has gone down with the plane. Very nutty scene with a lady giving some new-agey speech: of course, she’s from Venus. You might say the crowd is a bit sexist. As if to make up for that awkwardness, the next thing is in the kiddie zone–a TV game show. Featuring the tiny girls from Mothra’s lair, they get a request from some little boys to summon Mothra.

For all the cartoonish aspect of Mothra’s character, I’ve got to admit that it’s very original. So, while the girls are supposedly on a TV studio in Japan, what we see is them floating on a magic carpet (!) to Infant Island. Right into the midst of a native ritual, high priest and all, with that odd-ball song they have. There’s Mothra getting suited-up in the background. And then, just to cover all their bases, we’re soon back with the actual girls in the TV studio.

Of course, this noise eventuates into another discovery on the island, Rodan is back in business. Soon Godzilla does his requisite opening stunt: sneaking up on a freighter and sinking it. Some genius has figured out that the girl from Venus is also the princess. How’s that for a royal family? She’s been abducted by gangsters. Might as well use another genre while it’s available. She’s helped by the police (Detective Shindo), and the Mothra girls.

Meanwhile, Godzilla’s creating a distraction as he gets into Tokyo. And, shazam! here’s Rodan too. Needless to say, the authorities have their hands full. Weirdly, the Venusian girl is taken to a shrink. She explains about Ghidorah. “The earth’s end is imminent.” Rodan and Godzilla fight, thankfully in a remote area. Speaking of which, back on the island, the egg is cracking open. This gestation thing is unique, as the creature is at first a luminous fireball, who then morphs into the three-headed Ghidorah.

All kinds of destruction has already happened. “How will the Government deal with this crisis?” Good question “We’re doing our best.” Big deal. Meanwhile, more monster fighting, and pretty well-done at that. Next thing is both the Venusian girl and the Mothra’s girls appear at the Government meeting. Good idea, as the miniature girls have the only useful suggestion: that Mothra, Rodan, and Godzilla ally against the alien monster, Ghidorah. So Mothra sets off on her mission.

The shrinks are still trying to figure out the Venusian girl. What I don’t get is the monster ‘alliance’: are they gonna sit down on a mountain or something and sign a treaty? Let’s not forget the gangsters–but what are they after? The Venusian girl. Godzilla and Rodan have gone twelve rounds by now. If there were creatures like that, then this is how they would fight. Only after a lot of action does it get funny, as they start playing handball with a boulder. Even then in never looks like two guys in funny suits or models or puppets. Mothra crawls up now.

There is indeed a monster summit meeting, with Mothra as the go-between. The tiny girls interpret for the humans. It’s vaguely similar to a bunch of mafia dons agreeing to fight together to protect their territory from a usurper. Seeing that Mothra will fight the much larger Ghidorah by itself, Godzilla and Rodan come to its defense. More cool action. Eventually, Mothra’s sticky webbing neutralizes Ghidorah. He’s last seen flying away over the ocean.

Meanwhile, the human gangsters almost wipe out the Princess, but Shindo defends her, and an avalanche crushes the bad guys. That’s pretty much it, except for a finishing press conference, featuring the Princess, who now realizes who she is.

Wow. This is incredibly entertaining, even though it’s mostly Godzilla and Rodan going at it until Mothra and Ghidorah come aboard later on. Four monsters, each very different looking, with different M.O.s, and, differing agendas as well. Plus, a sort of mirror-image of good v. evil on the human side–with the good guys (including the mysterious princess and Mothra girls) ranged against the gangsters.

The special effects are surprisingly effective. Some of the buildings are obviously simplified models, and some of the ships too. But, for the most part, this looks like structures and vehicles being destroyed by monsters. For example, when the gangster’s car gets destroyed by the avalanche, it’s a real Mercedes, not a toy car. The parallel structure between the monsters and human plots is fairly well-integrated. Given that we’ve bought into the panoply of monsters theme (owing to the ‘history’ of the earth-bound monsters), the suspension of disbelief isn’t betrayed.

A unexpectedly good movie. There’s so much going on that we have the paradoxical effect of tension and confusion without losing the simple anchoring device of good v. evil. Plus, there’s bad (Rodan, Godzilla) which can change into good, but then there’s evil, which can’t be bargained with. If you like anything about Japanese sci-fi monsters, you can’t lose with Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster.

********************************************************************

B. We need to fly, crawl and munch our way from the Cretaceous Periods to the gsrden-variety typ of Atomic Critters. Also called Bug Movies; these are creatures that actually exist in the present day, but, again, thanks to atomic blasts, radiation, etc., they’ve mutated into giant versions of their ordinary selves. It helps if the normal-sized version is a menacing pest.

So, there’s ants, scorpions, tarantulas, leeches (!), lizards, birds, crabs, and probably some stuff that’s a little sketchy, but is dredged up nonetheless (i.e., blobs). In these types of movies there’s generally three phases: discovering the critter, dealing with skepticism about its existence, fighting it while it goes on a rampage, and, of course, killing it--which often entails some exotic weapon.

Attack Of The Crab Monsters. 1961

****** 6.0

There’s some interesting stuff here. The premise of a stranded group of explorers/scientists attacked by giant creatures on an disintegrating island gives us plenty to look forward to. Throw in a severed head and a severed hand, ghostly voices of the dead and rattling noises, plus some fairly spectacular underwater footage, not to mention a few decently-menacing mutant crabs, and Attack of The Crab Monsters doesn’t fail to entertain.

There’s good pacing to support all of this mayhem. What’s even more fascinating is that the crabs, as part of their master plan, are messing with the habitat in order to trap the humans. Their ability to literally absorb the brains of their victims gives them what’s essentially a supernatural power. That’s something new for nuclear radiation-created monsters.

Not only can they chat-up people adjacent to them, but, by transmitting through metal objects, they’re on a sort of speaker phone. It all comes crashing down rather quickly, as the chief do-gooder topples an electrical tower onto the last crab. The problem remains, how will the survivors get off the island, since they’ve just junked their ability to communicate with civilization?But that’s just one bite out of Attack Of The Crab Monsters’ many worthy elements.

The worst thing is the goofy seamen; if characters are there only to become victims, they should at least be sympathetic. These guys add nothing. In a short movie like this, comic relief just sabotages the otherwise appropriately tense tone. Logic problems pop up too: In this life-or-death situation, why do the guys bother to go looking for oil? Speaking of danger, why does the guy activate the electric-beam device to fight the crab, and then deliberately walk in front of the beam? Earlier it certainly looks like the house is being destroyed by a landslide; then it appears undamaged, only to be destroyed again later.

Lastly, when the crab is encountered in the house, the guy brings the girl into a different room–but they stay in the house, as though the crab wouldn’t enter without knocking. Despite plenty of miscues, Attack is still pretty good; ’50s giant monster movie fans will find enough to like.

The Giant Gila Monster, 1957.

******** 8.0

The Giant Gila Monster fits just so in that 1950s classic-era sci-fi sub genre: the monster in the desert/scrub brush. Gila Monster is actually closer to 1957’s The Blob in that it’s steeped in teen culture: hotrods, rock ’n roll, dismissive adults, etc. There’s the cool-cat Chase (Don Sullivan) and his girl Lisa (Lisa Simone), the Sheriff (good guy Fred Graham) and local rich guy Mr. Wheeler (bad news Bob Thompson), and assorted teens, not to mention a has-been type (Shug Fisher as Old Man Harris), and others making convenient monster victims. Something unique is a deejay, ’Steamroller’ Smith (Ken Knox), sort of a slick version of Wolf Man Jack.o

No nuclear nonsense in this one! Nope, that ’ol lizard fella has just been out in the mesquite forever, folks reckon. That’s fine, but where’s the city-slicker scientist fellars to figure it all out? Don’t need them, or the State Troopers, neither. Even before the credits roll, a lover’s-lane couple (Pat and Liz), in a semi-customized 1940 Ford coupe, are thrown off a cliff by the Gila Monster. We next see a local teen hangout, complete with Old Man Harris, who turns down offers for his original ’32 Ford (’Deuce’) coupe.

Mr. Wheeler bugs the Sheriff about the missing couple--he thinks his son Pat has eloped with his girl Liz. The Sheriff checks in with Chase and Liz’s folks about them...Sort of off to the side, but not out of mind, Chase finds out about a stash of nitroglycerin--hmm.

Then they find a wrecked car--a different one. This is when we get the five-finger-discount on the wrecked car’s headlight for Chase’s Deuce roadster; then the tires. Anyway, the Gila Monster takes out a meandering guy, as the Sheriff and Chase are shadowed by the monster. Next up is ’Steamroller’ Smith, careening his Cadillac into a ditch, squawking about a giant pink and black lizard; sounds suspect, not least because Steamroller is way drunk.

Daddy-O, then we get Chase’s first song, which isn’t bad at all. Anyway, the Sheriff gets Chase to round up the gang for a search party; more hotrods show up, again the monster peeks in (probably in a terrarium). Chase finds footprints, another couple finds the wrecked ’40. They winch it up. Pretty good suspense, as we can figure the monster is very near at hand.

Strangely, Wheeler blames Chase--the sheriff’s investigation deviated from procedure, etc., and wants Chase arrested. But hold on--a tanker truck attacked on a lonely road explodes (why is it always a truck that monsters attack?). Anyway, it’s sappy scene time at Chase’s house: his younger sister, a polio victim, is cheered up by Chase’s next song. "There’s a mushroom, sad little mushroom..." Oh, man. Thankfully, the Sheriff calls with news of the truck wreck. Old Man Harris tells the tale. The Sheriff surmised that these accidents aren’t really accidents.

Meanwhile, the Steamroller is coming around. Old Man Harris has the next drunken sighting of the monster, and witnesses the ensuing train wreck. A very cool tidbit ensues, as the Sheriff locks up Harris, offering that he can call his wife, and he responds "What would I wanna do that fer?!" Staying busy by consulting a zoologist, the Sheriff puts all the evidence together, and figures that they are indeed dealing with a giant Gila monster.

The DJ party is happening: plenty of cool rods, rock ’n roll, dancing. Actually, it’s Wheeler that figures out where the lizard’s hanging out. There’s a really good Elvis-like song by Chase. Followed up by sappy song #2. Ever so timely, the lizard shows up, perhaps smelling the donuts. This is the best lizard scene, as we cut rather deftly from the exterior shots of model cars and buildings, with a real lizard, to closer-up stuff with the crowd, reacting to the lizard.

The denouement is spectacular. Chase loads the aforementioned nitro in his car and rams the rod into the monster. Even Wheeler is impressed. I’m impressed too--somehow it looks like a real car hitting a real giant lizard.

This movie is notable for a couple of things. The teen plot is actually well-thought-out and dovetails very easily with the sci-fi Gila Monster aspect. Other than Chase and the Sheriff, though, (plus Steamroller and Harris in their limited roles) the acting isn’t memorable. What’s really intriguing is a believable premise; the lizard is simply there, and the people have to deal with it. Except for the scene in the sheriff’s office, absolutely no time is wasted debating, with a whole cast of experts and authorities, why something obvious has happened.

I admit that I usually enjoy the controversy about the creature and its origins in this sort of movie. That’s if it’s necessary to explain what we’re seeing; to establish suspension of disbelief. But in Gila Monster credibility is pretty much automatic. We see the monster right away, once enough (sober) people see it, then the plot sensibly turns on how to kill it.

It’s appropriate that the monster goes undetected for most of the movie (except to its victims); that device maintains suspense, and prevents the repetitious scenes where several types of weapons (any one of which would probably kill any organic entity) are used against the creature until a semi-magical one finishes it off. The plot in Gila Monster is already kind of thick by having to switch between the monster and the rock n’ roll stuff, so we don’t need more exposition.

Speaking of the monster, we know of course that it’s a regular Gila Monster. But there’s a reason that the real ones are called ’monsters,’ and not simply lizards. They’re scary looking. It’s smart to use real animal life in a giant creature movie; you don’t need a guy in a rubber suit, or an abstract image. A lot of authenticity, though, depends on the quality of the modeling. The train wreck scene is fairly awkward, but the truck explosion, and especially the attack at the dance, are convincingly done. There’s nothing distracting here other than the couple of scenes with dippy songs.

Very entertaining, and highly recommended for fans of classic-era science fiction.

Tarantula, 1955.

******* 7.0

"You Make It Sound...So Creepy"

There’s a complete stockpile of ’50s classic sci-fi devices here: desert setting (with a wandering mutant), wacko scientist (and his sketchy lab, which gets burned up), an isolated community with its locals, assorted authorities, and, of course, a large creature.

Although there’s no nuclear blast, the bugbear atom is not sitting still; there’s a radioactive isotope involved. Professor Deemer (Leo G. Carroll) is busy cooking up growth hormones ("non-organic nutrients") for animals and for human experiments. As we expect, things get out of hand there...

No time wasted getting clued-in, as the dying mutant (in his pjs) starts things off. Then, Dr. Hastings (John Agar, Sheriff Andrews (Nestor Paiva), and Deemer examine Mr. Mutant (Dr. Jacobs). At first we’re dealing with an oddball disease, acromegaly.

Meanwhile, back at the lab with Deemer, messing with gigantic rats and guinea pigs, and...a tarantula. His goal is to boost the world’s food supply. So, as many critics have asked, why not grow giant cows, pigs, and chickens? Well, skip logic--there’s mayhem in progress--another mutant, with requisite pjs, attacks Deemer. In the scuffle flammable stuff causes a blaze, stuff’s knocked over...So, less than :15 minutes in, the tarantula (no pjs), is tootling out the front door. The second mutant is toast, but Deemer puts the fire out.

Stephanie/Steve (Mara Corday), another lab prospect, rolls in, just as Hastings and the local newspaper guy Joe Burch (Ross Elliot) plan to take a peek at Deemer’s, so all three head out. The tarantula follows at a discrete distance. Stephanie/Steve immediately starts work. But, strangely, it’s only at this point that Deemer talks about trying out the nutrient on humans. Haven’t two guys already ’tested’ it pretty thoroughly by dying? Another discrete Tarantula sighting. No one’s seen it yet and lived to tell the tale.

Weirdly, Deemer tries the stuff on himself; he knows it messes people up. But why does it cause mutation in humans, but just growth in animals? The final dagger (steak knife?) in the world food supply deal comes when the carnivorous tarantula chews up cattle. A food supply that cannibalizes itself is sort of a non-starter.

After :50 minutes in, the tarantula finally goes public, with the obligatory two guys in an old truck getting the treatment. Hastings scopes out the gooey stuff the tarantula leaves around its victims. Steve, grossed out by Deemer, gets Hastings to hi-tail it to the lab (tarantula looming by). Deemer tells Hastings what’s more or less obvious, but doesn’t explain the divergent effects of the nutrient.

Hastings puts two and two together (spider venom plus giant creatures equals giant tarantula) as he consults with a biologist. Not to miss any of the stock situations of this genre, now it’s two miners showing up for the tarantula’s dinner.

Well, it takes a bit of prodding for Hastings to get the sheriff motivated "The State Police?! You must be drunk!" Fittingly, the tarantula comes home, so to speak, and demolishes Deemer’s place. Now car-loads of cops square off with the tarantula. Dynamite should do the trick--dang! Not so much. It’s about to hit Main Street just as a handy squadron of Shooting Stars napalms it.

Done. Pretty good stuff. Tarantula starts and ends strongly, but lags a bit in the middle. In this sort of isolated setting, it’s sensible that the creature isn’t going to appear in another setting--i.e., to attack Phoenix. (The very influential Them! from the previous year successfully got its giant critters from an isolated spot to L.A., but those ants could fly).

There’s too much time spent with Hastings courting Steve/Stephanie. We sort of have to start all over, because she wasn’t in the crucial opening scenes. It would’ve been better to have her at the lab from the beginning, already suspicious of Deemer’s experiments, and already hooked up with Hastings. That would free up some time for the tarantula to began its slinking about earlier.

The tarantula itself comes across fairly well, despite most of its appearances showing it just superimposed on the scene. It’s decidedly menacing, literally carving people up. For once, it might’ve helped having some more preparation for the denouement; the air strike comes unexpectedly.

Tarantula is entertaining, but struggles somewhat to maintain the pace (and interest) of the first part. The premise worked well for the most part (the exception being the horror motif of the mutants), and the acting measured up.

The Deadly Mantis, 1957.

********* 9.0

Shooting Stars, Panthers, Sabres, And A Bug-Eyed Bug

A polar eruption, and, even before the credits roll, there’s our Deadly Mantis poking out of the ice. For once, nuclear testing/radiation isn’t present, or necessary, in this ’50s sci-fi classic. The narration gives a documentary authenticity. Colonel Parker (Craig Stevens) arrives at Red Eagle One (the new base) just as the Mantis blows into an outpost.

"Two men don’t just vanish" "These did" the rescue team figures. Then we get the Shooting Stars scrambling to intercept the ’bogey’ (the Mantis being the bogeyman). As soon as we hear that tell-tale buzzing though, we know the C-47 is toast. This time the rescuers discover a piece of a kayak, err, a fragment of a Mantis leg. The seamless combining of stock footage with actual scenes is already apparent, and very successful.

Also noteworthy are resemblances to The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms from a few years before. The arctic origin of the creature, attacks on remote outposts, scientists huddling (William Hopper’s Dr. Jackson) with generals over the identity of the creature, complete with paleontological drawings, attack on locals and fishing boats, news flashes, etc.

I mention these similarities because Beast From 20K was one of the first and best of the giant creature sci-fi films; so it was worthwhile to follow in that movie’s footsteps, so to speak. For one thing, suspension of disbelief is maintained by this outline. Dr. Jackson reels us in closer with his Siberian mammoth analogy. The Greenland deal gives us a full blast Mantis attack just halfway in, which is great.

The Mantis itself looks menacing--especially it’s eyes. it always helps when a creature movie makes use of a critter which is naturally disturbing-looking. Crabs, ants, scorpions, Mantis, good. Ladybugs, not really; even giant rodents manage to look cute. After the attack on the base, the quick cut from the flying Mantis to the squadron of jets works great. There’s the usual ineffective weapons; I would think a flamethrower would be deadly to anything organic.

Anyway, the mantis flies kind of stiffly, but its wings are whirring fairly realistically. Then we get the Navy jets’ missile attack, which does have some effect. The bus attack in the fog is creative; there’s a horror tinge to these scenes that builds atmosphere. Climbing the Washington Monument is clever--as the filmmaker is taking advantage of an opportunity to use a real mantis on a model. Same thing when he descends over the (modeled) NYC skyline.

This is really interesting viewing for early jet-age stuff, as F-86 Sabre jets get into the action too. More stock footage put to good use. Again, missiles do mess it up. The pacing is so good that the tunnel scene skips what’s presumably the mantis’s search for a hideout--it’s already in there, crushing some Tootiestoy cars (plenty of real demolition-derby wrecks are strewn around for the live-action scenes).

Like the foggy scene, there’s more mysterious obscurity--this time by deliberate use of smoke. The gas bombs do the trick, but the mantis dies in a fairly agonizing sequence; the death-rattle is a nice touch.

The Deadly Mantis does so much so well. Even the romance (the Colonel and Alix Talton’s Marge) isn’t a distraction. In fact, Marge’s role is almost an inversion of sexism; in that she’s not only quickly accepted by everyone, but held in awe by the air force base guys.

A great viewing experience for early sci-fi fans--not to be missed.

Them! 1954.

******** 8.0

Them Pesky Pests

One of the better early-atomic age giant creature sci-fi movies. Them! does everything right. Given the premise that radiation causes drastic mutation, the giant ants’ appearance in a remote location generates the eerie yet modern atmosphere that typifies this genre.

The sense of mystery is well-plotted, as sightings and attacks intermix with the characters’ frantic speculations about the mayhem. The beginning is especially memorable; the child apparently sleep-walking in the desert introduces us to the theme of normal, innocent lives being torn up by the monster ants. The premature ’ending’, with the destruction of the first nest, dramatically sets up the widening second phase of the plot. This device is used subsequently in Rodan, and other sci-fi monster movies, to equal effect. The pace quickens from the desert locale to L.A., the Army moving onto the climax in the sewer system’s nest.

The continuing focus on particular kids/families as victims works surprisingly well in Them! In many of the later monster movies, especially the Japanese ones, the monster and its trail of destruction is emphasized to the detriment of the characters. While that can be entertaining, it tends to become cartoonish. Them! keeps the story at a more palpable, human level.

The problem with focusing on the cast, however, is the obviously unrealistic conceit that only a handful of people, especially locals, are going to have a hand in all the decision-making once the menace grows. But if the characters are well-drawn, as they are here, it does sustain the suspension of disbelief.

The other issue with creature-themed movies involves the type of creature. An alien creature--like The Thing, has no real-world counterpart; the movie can come up with anything. The risk then is making it look menacing and frightening. But with an amped-up natural thing such as ants, scorpions, Gila monsters, etc., the fear is automatic. The real ones are disgusting enough, and giant ones exponentially more so. Also, the real critters can of course be used in some scenes.

Them! covers all the sci-fi bases with good pacing, acting, and special-effects. Along with The Thing and Invaders From Mars, one of the better early sci-fi movies.

Attack Of The Giant Leeches, 1959.

******* 7.0

"That’s Just It, The ’Gators Ain’t"

If ever there were a disgusting thing, a leech would be it. Not just looks horrible, it’s basically a vampire. So let’s make it human-sized, and see what happens. Very good premise. Pretty good acting too: Ken Clark is a straight-arrow game warden, locals Liz and Dave Walker (Yvette Vickers and Bruno VeSota) are a feuding couple, and Sheriff Kovis (Gene Roth), Cal (Michael Emmit), Doc Greyson and his daughter Nan (Tyler McVey and Jan Shephard).

Liz is really something: an absolute magnet for every man-about-town. Dave, looking like a gone-to-seed Hoss from TV’s Bonanza. He catches Liz with Cal, hounding after them with a shotgun. Forced into the swamp, they fall into the leech’s grasp. Naturally, the Sheriff (the image of Lee J. Cobb at his crustiest) doesn’t buy Dave’s alibi that a monster was the real killer. He kills himself.

A good thing about the swamp setting is that it’s a habitat for a known monster, the alligator. So when locals go searching for the bodies they’re correct in assuming they might be in caves where alligators store bodies. The victims are in a bad state, very much like Dracula’s prey. So, the swamp folks rustle up a posse, the Sheriff pretty much conceding leadership to Steve.

The long sequences in the swamp is creepy and somewhat suspenseful, mostly because nothing turns up, even as the leeches stalk the posse.. Steve plans to scuba-dive to uncover the mystery; but Doc sets dynamite anyway. Sure enough, bodies start bobbing up. But not all of them. Liz is still unaccounted for.

Just before she drowns, she’s rescued by the divers; spear-gunning the leeches doesn’t kill them though. A nice dynamite blasters to do it. But, in a corner of the swamp which remains hidden to the onlookers, we hear a leech burbling away. The best kind of ending, because things really aren’t quite back to normal.

Kind of as an afterthought, Nan and her dad speculate that atomic residue or some such from Cape Canaveral has seeped into the swamp, causing the giant mutations. Sounds good enough, but I expected this sort of theory, or any theory on the origin of the giant leeches discussed sooner. That’s ok, though, as the teaser at the very end suggests that the story isn’t over. This device also leaves open the obvious possibility that it can’t just be this neck of this particular swamp that’s contaminated.

Almost everything works well in Attack of the Giant Leeches. The characters are very well-drawn, especially Dave, Liz, and the Sheriff. They’re types, but you could fairly comfortably inhabit a Tennessee Williams production with any of them. The supporting cast adds to the atmosphere. The pacing is good as well.

The only real problem is the stupid-looking leeches. Why not skip amorphous blob-like things and have mutant alligators? Maybe that’s asking too much, but what we get here just looked like rejected prototypes for cutesy swimming pool flotation devices.

Next Chapter: Take Us To Your Leader; Or, In Three Of Your Earth Years...