Tag Archives: movies

Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[March 6, 1965] Breaking Up Is Hard To Do (Crack in the World and Other Planet-Destroying Movies)

2 Comments


by Victoria Silverwolf

Start With an Earthquake and Build to a Climax

The above phrase, or some variation on it, has been attributed to Samuel Goldwyn, although this is almost certainly apocryphal. In any case, it represents the interest Hollywood has long had in depicting disasters on the silver screen. Sometimes these have been recreations of historic events, from San Francisco (1936, the 1906 earthquake) to In Old Chicago (1938, the 1871 fire) to A Night to Remember (1958, the sinking of the Titanic.) Watch for these on the Late, Late Show.

Here in the Atomic Age, it seems that fear of the Bomb has replaced some of the fear of Nature. Going back at least as far as Five (1951), films dealing with nuclear disasters have filled the theaters and drives-ins for quite a while now. There are far too many of these to discuss in any detail, from low-budget quickies full of folks in rubber suits pretending to be monsters, to sober and serious dramas. The best of these have been the topics of full articles by Galactic Journeyers, so I direct you to the archives for more information.

Humanity gets wiped out, or at least reduced to very few, in most of these apocalyptic flicks.  But what about those in which the entire planet Earth is threatened with destruction?  I can only think of a few.


Read the book!

Based on the 1933 novel by Philip Wylie and Edwin Balmer, George Pal's 1951 production of When Worlds Collide dealt with a wandering star on its way to crash into Earth, and the effort to build spaceships to carry a few survivors to the star's only planet. (They sure were lucky that it turned out to be habitable.)


See the movie!

It was a handsome production, winning an Oscar for special effects and nominated for cinematography.


Nifty spaceship. Looks like an Astounding cover, doesn't it?


See the movie; there isn't any book.

1961's The Day the Earth Caught Fire was a British production. Filmed in black-and-white on a modest budget, it depicted the effect that simultaneous nuclear bomb tests by the United States and the Soviet Union had on Earth's orbit, tilting it on its axis and sending it spiraling into the Sun.


Some scenes were tinted to suggest the devastating heat.

An unusually realistic portrait of the possible end of the world, with an ambiguous ending, I found it made for compelling viewing.

Will the latest entry in this small group of Earth-In-Peril films prove as exciting as its trailer suggests? Let's find out.

Dig We Must


All this destruction going on, and Dana Andrews is making a phone call.

The plot of the new movie Crack in the World seems to have been inspired by Project Mohole, so a brief review of that troubled effort to reach deep into the Earth is in order.

First proposed in 1957, Phase 1 of this mighty engineering project got started in 1961. Five holes were drilled at the bottom of the sea off the coast of Baja California, the deepest about six hundred feet below the ocean floor. (You have to consider the fact that these holes start about twelve thousand feet below the surface of the water.)


You can see from this diagram why it makes sense to drill from the bottom of the ocean rather than from the land.

The rumor mill has it that there's a lot of controversy over the multiple scientific, political, and economic factors involved in moving on to Phase 2. Eventually, Phase 3 of the project is supposed to achieve the ultimate goal of reaching the Mohorovičić discontinuity, which is the boundary between the Earth's crust and the mantle. (It's named for the Croatian seismologist Andrija Mohorovičić. No wonder most folks call it the Moho layer.) It's too early to tell how low things will go.

The Core of the Problem


The opening title, in cracked letters.

Project Inner Space, our cinematic version of Project Mohole, begins on land rather than at sea. A brief scene of warriors carrying spears and shields establishes the fact that we're in Africa. We'll find out later that the location is Tanganyika. (That former nation only joined with Zanzibar to form Tanzania last year, so I'll cut the filmmakers some slack on the misnomer.)


It's hard to see here, but that scaffolding contains a rocket pointed down into the Earth.

A jeep carrying people of many different ethnicities and accents arrives at the site. They're here to talk to the head of the project, who needs their approval for his ambitious plan.


Dana Andrews as Doctor Stephen Sorenson.

You see, Project Inner Space is a lot more ambitious than Project Moho. Its goal is to reach all the way down to the Earth's core, so that the magma can be used as a virtually limitless supply of energy and raw materials. Since the Moho discontinuity is twenty-odd miles below the surface of the land (something less than five miles if you go under the sea) and the core is about eighteen hundred miles down, you can see that Moho is really small potatoes compared to Inner Space.

Doctor Stephen Sorenson (American actor Dana Andrews, leading man of the 1940's and 1950's, perhaps best known to most moviegoers for The Best Years of Our Lives, but familiar to horror film buffs for Curse of the Demon) wants the committee in charge of the political side of the project to give the OK to shoot an atomic bomb down into the Earth. (He's already got a rocket set up to deliver the thing, so it's obvious he expects to win them over to his side.)


On the right is Kieron Moore as Doctor Ted Rampion.

Stephen has a very strong sense that his notion of using an A-bomb is safe, but he's honest enough to admit that a fellow scientist, Doctor Ted Rampion (Irish actor Kieron Moore, best known to SF fans for appearing in The Day of the Triffids, and familiar to me for having the lead role in Doctor Blood's Coffin) opposes him. Ted thinks the massive explosion might create a crack in the world, leading to massive destruction. Well, given the title of the movie, you can guess who's right.


Janette Scott as Doctor Maggie Sorenson.

Complicating matters is the fact that Doctor Maggie Sorenson (British actress Janette Scott, also in The Day of the Triffids, and known to me from the psychological shocker Paranoiac), Stephen's wife and fellow scientist, was formerly in a relationship with Ted. Adding to this soap opera subplot is the fact that Stephen has a terminal illness that he is hiding from everyone, even his wife.

Stephen gets the go-ahead from his bosses, and the atomic bomb is rocketed deep into the Earth. The resulting explosion destroys the scaffolding and releases a fountain of magma. Everything seems just fine, but since we've still got about an hour of running time left, you know it's not going to be that easy.

Reports of massive earthquakes and tidal waves indicate that, yes, we've got a crack in the world. It's racing across the globe, too, threatening to rip the planet apart. Desperate to save Earth from total destruction, Ted and the other scientists attempt to stop the progress of the crack by dropping another nuclear bomb into the heart of an active volcano on an island.


Inside the volcano

Because the bomb has to be guided into the volcano by hand, requiring two people in spacesuits to descend with it, this is a particularly tense scene. (It's not a big surprise that Ted, our hero, is one of the two.) The device is dropped into the molten lava successfully, and triggered from a safe distance.


A nice little detail is the fact that the scientists carefully record all this.

Unfortunately, this doesn't halt the crack, but only reverses its direction. It looks like it will head back in the general direction of Project Inner Space, threatening to link up with itself and send a chunk of the planet off into space.

Scenes of massive destruction follow, portrayed through stock footage and some really good miniature effects. A railroad disaster, done with models, is particularly convincing.


The crack is approaching the doomed train from behind the bridge.

Will Earth survive? Will any of our three lead actors survive?


This scene may give you a hint.

Worth Digging Up?

The science in this movie may be questionable — there's an amusing moment when Doctor Maggie Sorenson, who should know better, pronounces the word seismograph as SEIZE-mograph — but overall I found it entertaining. The visual effects are quite good, and the story (written by Jon Manchip White and Julian Halevy, directed by Andrew Marton) is never stupid, even if it's implausible and clichéd at times.

I like the fact that Project Inner Space is truly an international effort, and that the scientists generally act like scientists. The sets look like places people could really work.

I also appreciated the fact that Doctor Stephen Sorenson isn't a megalomaniac, but simply a man who makes a terrible mistake, and does everything he can to correct it.

Four stars. I dug it.




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 10, 1964] Drop The Bomb and We All Go Down (Sidney Lumet's Fail Safe)

7 Comments


By Rosemary Benton

The Rogue Element

Grim and uncertain times can seemingly serve as interesting creative fuel. As the world becomes embroiled further and further in the mounting crisis between Cuba and the US, Hollywood has scheduled a list of releases this year that look both critically and comically at current world affairs. This month the much-plagued movie Fail Safe, directed by Sidney Lumet and featuring a star studded cast of actors, was released. Boy, is this one a rollercoaster.

Based on the 1962 novel of the same name (initially released as a serial for the Saturday Evening Post) by Eugene Burdick and Harvey Wheeler, Fail Safe covers the topical issue of mutually assured destruction. It is supposed to be a deterrent to war — it's also the inevitable conclusion when our technology and policy fail us.

Picture this scenario: an unknown aircraft enters US air space and triggers preparations for a possible enemy attack, US bombers are sent to their holding (fail-safe) points on the Soviet borders. Everyone of importance is called in (select members of congress, the President, Air Force command and political advisors), but when Strategic Air Command in Washington learns that the craft is merely a commercial vessel off course, the situation is deescalated and the surveillance system within the Control Room is reset.

But an error causes an attack order to be sent to a group of bombers at their fail-safe point. Unaware of the error and gravely realizing the enormity of what an attack order means, the bombers nevertheless begin flying towards Moscow with the intention of razing it to the ground with their 40 megaton payloads. Back at Command, the error is spotted; all attempts are made to contact the bombers and call them back, but it's too late.

If this all sounds familiar then you have either seen Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (or read the book that inspired that film – "Red Alert" (1958) by Peter George aka Peter Bryant), or you, like me, just saw the premiere of Fail Safe. Both films are produced by Columbia Pictures, and initially both films were scheduled to be released in 1964 around the same date! The logic of this is baffling, and understandably it ruffled some feathers. The inside scoop is that Kubrick put a great deal of pressure on Columbia Pictures in order to have his film released at the beginning of the year decently spaced from the other.

Predictably, the eerily similar plots of Wheeler and Burdick's story compared to George's story resulted in a very public lawsuit – Kubrick and George vs Wheeler and Burdick, McGraw-Hill, Curtis Publishing Company, and Entertainment Corporation of America. The suit, initiated by George and Kubrick, claimed that Wheeler and Burdick lifted significant plot points from plaintiff Peter George's book. Evidently the matter was settled privately, as the American public is now able to see Fail Safe in many major theaters.

Initial Impressions

Despite their glaring story parallels, Fail Safe is a different animal entirely from Dr. Strangelove. It's hard to describe the experience of watching this film. The violence of the opening scene, wherein a veteran bomber pilot finds himself both observer and victim at a bullfight, sets the audience up with a baseline anxiety that grows and wanes, but never dissipates. The plot doesn't introduce the error (in this movie, caused by a machine rather than a person) until over 20 minutes into the movie. Prior to that we see haunting scenes that manage to capture intense raw emotions and family moments instrumental to defining our surprisingly complex and fascinating characters.

Dan O'Herlihy, Walter Matthau, 1964

The suspense as the disaster gets wildly out of control builds relentlessly. For the audience, stuck in their seats with the knowledge that this is all very relevant to our country's current situation, there's an accompanying sense of angry futility. It's a hard truth that the general public (in the theater and on the screen) is blind to the national procedures set in place, and ultimately powerless to influence the decisions being made by the ranks of command. During the film's two and a half hour runtime this fury grew intense. By the end of the film I was actually teary eyed with a kind of writhing rage in my gut. It was especially fueled by the unbearably unfair price the Soviet and American civilian populations pay. Millions of people in both countries die minutes apart, or more accurately, are murdered. All for a technical error.

The Blame Game

The issue of blame and responsibility for a crime against humanity like the deployment of nuclear weapons is central to the plot in Fail Safe. As the cast discuss their options for the impending nuclear strike, the issue of how it could have happened in the first place is intensely debated by the characters. There are numerous people who keep saying that blame can't be assigned because the whole situation is an accident. No human hand sent the mission to the bombers streaking towards Moscow. A reset error caused the order to be delivered. It was always a possibility that the machines could malfunction. It's a risk of new technology that they could fail. As such everyone can be reasonably absolved of guilt. Absolving oneself of guilt and responsibility is a natural gut reaction in everyone when they are charged with making a mistake. But a crime against humanity? Of this magnitude? Someone has to take responsibility for that.

Even though it is explained earlier that he has no direct oversight of the checks and fail safes set in place to prevent such a tech error, the U. S. President (Henry Fonda) feels that the blame must lie with those at the highest peak of authority, and the actions he takes to address the situation reflect this. He verbally underlines this point in his angry statement near the end of the film to the Soviet premier that the blame for the dead lies with both men. Both men wield the destructive force of 20 megaton bombs as part of the unspoken detente of mutually assured destruction. Their use is ultimately the responsibility of the men in power. The President implores his Soviet counterpart, and the generals and senior officials on both sides, that they all must learn from this disaster to make sure it doesn't happen again. We don't hear what the Soviets have to say to this, and are left to wonder if they feel the same way about the shared responsibility and guilt.

But can people overcome the trap technology sets for us? Early in the film we see two WWII-veteran Air Force pilots playing pool and bemoaning the studiousness and "impersonal" attitudes of the new recruits grimly reading technical manuals at the tables next to them. Their conversation foreshadows the attitudes of many other characters. This film does an extremely good job of linking the fear of technology and the heavy responsibility of those who "control" it. Nearly all of the cast express, or hold firm to, the sentiment that technology is pulling people away from one another and will ultimately replace humanity in the resolution (and creation) of conflicts.

Another example of assigning blame to technology is in the Control Room when Congressman Raskob (Sorrell Booke) is given a tour of the new tech and an update on the emergency. He is disgusted and angry that a technical failure caused the orders to be sent, describing it as as humanity losing control of its inventions.

The scene revealing his feelings on the matter is very well executed. Congressman Raskob has just been shown how American satellites can monitor submarine movements and can zoom in nearly down to street level! He's also made aware that foreign surveillance is occurring within an alarmingly close proximity to the US shoreline. What disturbs him even more than all of this highly evolved (and very plausible) surveillance technology is that no one knows who is overseeing it. When he asks who double and triple checks the fail safes set up to monitor the machines, he is given different answers simultaneously: "The President" and "No one". That is profoundly disturbing, and Raskob knows it. He replies, "The only thing that everyone can agree on is that no one's responsible".

Final Thoughts

While Fail Safe offers a horrifyingly plausible solution to address the catastrophe shown in the film, neither the movie nor the best-selling book that the movie is based on offer any answers on how such a catastrophe could be avoided. Per the film, such an attack is the ultimate avalanche of events. It is the inevitable collapse of a shaky, hastily built structure rigged with cheap materials and patched with quick-fixes. Is it already too late to stop something like this from happening? Fail Safe asks this question, but suggests that there is no answer.

May sleep come easy to you tonight…

7 Comments Leave A Comment
Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 26, 1964] A Mystery Mastermind Double-Feature: The Ringer and The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse

2 Comments

[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age. If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)


by Cora Buhlert

After a wet and cool summer, the rain continued right into September. We can only imagine what carpenter Armando Rodrigues de Sá thought when he arrived in rainy Cologne from sunny Portugal and became the one millionth so-called "guest worker", immigrant workers from Southern Europe contracted to work in West German factories to alleviate the labour shortage. In Cologne, Mr. Rodrigues de Sá was welcomed by journalists, cameras and a representative of the employers' association and presented with a flower bouquet and a motorbike.

One millionth guest worker
Portuguese immigrant worker Armando Rodrigues de Sá is welcomed to West Germany with a flower bouquet and a brand-new motorbike

Another visitor who received a warm welcome in Germany was American Civil Rights icon Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., when he visited Berlin earlier this month. The official reason for the visit was a memorial service for John F. Kennedy, but Dr. King also used the opportunity to visit the Berlin Wall, where only hours before a young man had been shot during an attempt to flee East Berlin and only survived due to the heroic actions of an US Army sergeant who pulled him to safety, a sad reminder that about fifty people have already been killed trying to surmount the Berlin Wall.

Martin Luther King at the Berlin Wall
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. at the Berlin Wall

The East German government is hostile to religion, but supportive of the Civil Rights movement in the US. And so Dr. King was allowed to visit East Berlin, where he held a sermon in the packed Marienkirche and spontaneously intoned "Let My People Go". I'm not sure if the East German authorities got the message, but the people of East Berlin certainly did.

Martin Luther King in Berlin
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in Berlin with West Berlin's mayor Willy Brandt and Otto Dibelius, Lutheran bishop of Berlin-Brandenburg.

Rainy days are perfect for going to the movies and luckily, West German cinemas have plenty of thrills to offer. A few months ago, I introduced you to the two series of science fictional thrillers, which are currently dominating West German cinemas, namely the Edgar Wallace and the Dr. Mabuse series. Fans of both have reason to rejoice, because this fall has brought us both a new Edgar Wallace and a new Dr. Mabuse film.

A New High for Edgar Wallace

Poster The RingerDer Hexer (The Ringer) is the twentieth Edgar Wallace adaptation produced by Rialto Film and one of the best, if not the best movie in the series so far. The Ringer is a pure delight and a distillation of everything that has made the Edgar Wallace series so successful. The balance of humour and thrills is just right and The Ringer will have you both rolling on the floor with laughter and on the edge of your seat with suspense. There are nefarious crimes, a mysterious figure – for once not the villain – whose true identity is not revealed until the final reel and a twisting and turning plot that still has a twist or two in store, even after the Ringer has been unmasked.

Der Hexer novel coverThe Ringer is based on Edgar Wallace's 1925 novel The Gaunt Stranger and its 1926 stage version The Ringer, though the literal translation of the German title would be "The Witcher". It's certainly apt, for the titular character is not just a master of disguise, but also has nigh sorcerous abilities to evade Scotland Yard's finest.

Apprehending an antagonist is cunning as the Ringer certainly requires the best Scotland Yard has to offer and so The Ringer is the first film to unite the three actors who usually play inspectors in the Edgar Wallace movies, namely the young and dashing Joachim Fuchsberger and Heinz Drache and the older and decidedly not dashing Siegfried Lowitz. They are aided – or hindered, depending on your point of view – by Wallace veteran Siegfried Schürenberg in his customary role as Sir John Walker, head of Scotland Yard.

Like most Edgar Wallace movies, The Ringer begins with a murder before the title sequence. A young secretary is spying on her boss, dodgy lawyer Maurice Messer (Jochen Brockmann), when she is strangled by an unseen assailant. The movie then cuts to her dead eyes staring at us from the glass dome of a mini-submarine that slowly dives into an underground pool. Cue the titles and Peter Thomas' delightfully squeaky theme music.

That Ain't Witchcraft

The Ringer program bookUnbeknownst to the killers, the murdered woman was Gwenda Milton, the younger sister of Arthur Milton, the vigilante known only as the Ringer for his uncanny ability to disguise himself as anybody he pleases. Years ago, Arthur Milton had given up his career of vigilantism and retired to Australia, far beyond the reach of the British law. But now he is back to take revenge on the murderers of his sister. Of course, both the villains and Scotland Yard are only too eager to capture the Ringer. There is only one problem. No one knows what he looks like.

What follows is a merry chase, as the Ringer pits the villains, four pillars of society who operate a human trafficking ring out of a church-run home for wayward girls, against each other, while three police inspectors and Sir John fall over each other's feet to arrest him. Also along for the ride are Archibald Finch (Edgar Wallace stalwart Eddi Arent), a reformed pickpocket (or is he?) turned butler, and Cora Ann Milton (Margot Trooger), the Ringer's glamorous and loyal wife. The result is so much fun that you barely notice that the plot doesn't make a whole lot of sense (but then, Edgar Wallace movies often don't) and that occasionally the Ringer has to move things forward by handing either Scotland Yard or the villains a clue – literally on a silver platter in one case.

Siegfried Lowitz and Margot Trooger in The Ringer
Inspector Warren (Siegfried Lowitz) confronts Cora Ann Milton (Margot Trooger) in "The Ringer"

Women in Edgar Wallace movies usually come in one of two flavours, the wide-eyed ingenue who will go on to marry the dashing inspector after he has saved her from certain death and the villainous femme fatale who will usually end up dead, after vamping her way through the movie. The Ringer breaks this pattern, for while Margot Trooger as Cora Ann takes the part of the femme fatale, she is neither a villainess nor does she die. Cora Ann is not a henchwoman, but a true partner to her husband and also very much in love with him. She is my favourite female character in the Edgar Wallace series so far. The ending leaves open the possibility of a sequel and I for one would love to see the continuing crime fighting adventures of Arthur and Cora Ann Milton.

Sophie Hardy, Joachim Fuchsberger and Siefried Lowitz in The Ringer
Inspector Higgins (Joachim Fuchsberger) and Inspector Warren (Siegfried Lowitz) have just survived a murder attempt via venomous snake, while Elise (Sophie Hardy) screams.

The heroine is played by French actress Sophie Hardy as Elise Fenton, the girlfriend of Inspector Higgins (Joachim Fuchsberger). Elise is no wide-eyed ingenue either – indeed it is quite openly hinted that she and Higgins are living together, even though they are not (yet) married. Elise probably seemed modern and liberated on paper. Alas, she comes across as annoying in the movie itself, a nagging, jealous and catty woman whose only goal in life seems to be to entrap Higgins (or "Higgy", as she calls him) into marriage. Maybe Karin Dor could have given the character more depth – alas, she was too busy playing Winnetou's true love Ribanna in Horst Wendlandt's other hugely successful film series. As it is, I found myself hoping that Higgins would ditch the annoying Elise for Sir John's attractive secretary Jean (Finnish actress Ann Savo).

Ann Savo and Joachim Fuchsberger in The Ringer
Inspector Higgins (Joachim Fuchsberger) flirts with Jean (Ann Savo) in "The Ringer"

The Ringer Unmasked

While the romance subplot isn't quite successful, the movie excels in keeping the audience guessing the identity of the Ringer. The script steers suspicion towards two characters, the mysterious Australian James Westby (Heinz Drache) and pickpocket turned butler Archibald Finch (Eddi Arent), who always seems to know much more than he should. To anybody who's been watching the Edgar Wallace movies for a while, both suspects seem equally unlikely, for Heinz Drache usually plays heroic inspectors, while Eddi Arent inevitably plays bumbling comic relief characters. However, the Wallace movies are not afraid to cast against type on occasion: the heroic investigator is revealed to be the villain in The Red Circle (1959) and in Feburary's Room 13, the wide-eyed ingenue turned out to be a cold-blooded murderess.

Joachim Fuchsberger, Siegfried Schürenberg and Eddi Arent in The Ringer
Inspector Higgins (Joachim Fuchsberger) and Sir John (Siegfried Schürenberg) confront the mysterious Archibald Finch (Eddi Arent) in "The Ringer"

In the end, the Ringer is revealed to be a character no one ever suspected, even though the rest of the cast and the audience have no reason to believe or trust him. It’s a testament to the cleverness of the story that we don’t even notice this until the final unmasking. And indeed, producer Horst Wendlandt and director Alfred Vohrer went to great lengths to keep the true identity of the Ringer secret even from the cast and crew. The final few pages of the script were locked away in Wendlandt's safe to prevent leaks. When the Ringer is finally unmasked, the face behind the latex mask is that of Luxembourgian actor René Deltgen. Portly, balding and fifty-four years old, Deltgen is no one's idea of a criminal mastermind and dashing vigilante, but then the entire movie defies expectations and shows that the Edgar Wallace series still hasn't gone stale after twenty instalments.

Cast of The Ringer
The cast of "The Ringer" implores audiences not to spoil the ending.

Dr. Mabuse Returns – Again

Poster Death ray of Dr. MabuseUnfortunately, the same cannot be said for the latest movie in the other great West German thriller series. For while the Dr. Mabuse series has been very good at reinventing itself in the five movies made post WWII (plus two made during the Weimar Republic) so far, the latest instalment Die Todesstrahlen des Dr. Mabuse (The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse) shows definite signs of the series going stale.

When we last saw Mabuse in 1963's Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse, he had not only failed to establish a reign of crime and chaos in the UK, but his malevolent spirit had also vacated the body of psychiatrist Professor Pohland (Walter Rilla), leaving the poor man uttering "It wasn't me, it was Mabuse. He used my brain" over and over again. Pohland was locked up in an insane asylum, because that worked so wonderfully when Mabuse was apprehended in The Testament of Dr. Mabuse – twice. The opening of The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse finds Pohland still in the asylum and still muttering the same lines over and over again. When the British send intelligence officer Major Bob Anders (Peter van Eyck) to interrogate Pohland, Pohland utters the word "death ray" and promptly vanishes. This is the third time German-American actor Peter van Eyck takes the lead in a Mabuse movie after The 1000 Eyes of Dr. Mabuse and Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse. All three characters have different names, though Major Bill Tern from Scotland Yard and Major Bob Anders from Death Ray are so similar they might as well be the same character.

Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse titles

A Game of Spies

The Death ray of Dr. Mabuse program bookNot long after Pohland's disappearance, Anders is given a new assignment – to investigate spy activities in Malta, where a scientist named Professor Larsen is working on an invention that will change the world. And that invention just happens to be a death ray. Anders no more thinks that this is a coincidence than the audience does. So he hastens to Malta, taking along Judy (former Miss Greece Rika Dialina), one of his many girlfriends, to pose as a newlywed couple on their honeymoon.

Since everybody in Malta knows who Anders is anyway, the ruse is completely unnecessary. And indeed, I wish that the movie had omitted Judy, who adds nothing to the plot except prancing about in bikinis and scanty nightwear and moaning that Anders isn't paying enough attention to her. Because if Elise from The Ringer was annoying, Judy is certainly giving her a run for her money. As with Elise, Judy's sole aim in life seems to be to entrap Anders into marriage. I really hope that the appearance of two similarly grating female characters in two high profile West German movies in the space of less than a month is just a coincidence and not a new trend. After all, it's 1964 and young women these days are focussed on more than just snagging a husband.

Peter van Eyck and Rika Dialina in The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse
Major Bob Anders (Peter Van Eyck) spies on Mabuse, while Judy (Rika Dialina) has other ideas.

In Malta, we are quickly introduced to the rest of the players, Professor Larsen (O.E. Hasse), his assistant Dr. Krishna (Valéry Inkijinoff), Larsen's niece Gilda (Yvonne Furneaux), Gilda's fiancé Mario Monta (Gustava Rojo), whose brother Jason (Massimo Pietrobon) owns the local fishing fleet and may be working for Mabuse as well as Fausto Botani (Claudio Gora), an elderly man who always tends to the grave of his late wife in a cemetery that is a hotbed of suspicious activities. We also get a techno-babble laden introduction to Professor Larsen's death ray projector, which can burn every city on Earth to a crisp.

Valery Injikoff and O.E. Hasse in The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse
Professor Larsen (O.E. Hasse) and Dr. Krishna (Valery Injikoff) in the death ray lab.

The bulk of the movie is a succession of action sequences, as Mabuse and his henchmen try to infiltrate Professor Larsen's laboratory, while Anders tries to stop them. And indeed the action sequences, whether it's a fist fight in a church tower, a car chase or an underwater fight involving several scuba divers, are exciting and well choreographed. Director Hugo Fregonese is best known for helming B-westerns in Hollywood and his experience certainly shows.

Scuba Divers in The Daeth Ray of Dr. Mabuse
Mabuse's scuba diving henchmen report for duty

Regarding the identity of Mabuse, the script directs suspicion at Larsen's assistant Dr. Krishna, playing on unpleasant yellow peril stereotypes. In the end, however, the seemingly harmless Fausto Botani is unmasked as Mabuse's latest host body, just in time for Mabuse's spirit to leave and seek his fortune elsewhere. In one of the most chilling sequences of the film, Botani is left to mutter "It wasn't me, it was Mabuse. He used my brain" over and over again, while his faithful dog Pluto – implied to be the same German shepherd that already accompanied Wolfgang Preiss as Mabuse in The 1000 Eyes of Dr. Mabuse – runs off, presumably to seek out his master's next host body.

Mabuse goes Bond

The greatest strength of the Dr. Mabuse series is its versatility. Mabuse's nature as a body-hopping malevolent spirit allows producer Artur Brauner to plug the character into any kind of scenario. And so Mabuse's postwar adventures have ranged from exploring Cold War paranoia and economic fears via offbeat gangster films and science fiction horror movies to a Mabuse film pretending to be an Edgar Wallace movie. With this latest movie, Dr. Mabuse tries out yet another genre, namely that of the James Bond influenced spy thriller.

Yoko Tani and Peter Van Eyck in The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse
The villainous Mercedes (Yoko Tani) tries to get in a shot at Major Bob Anders (Peter Van Eyck)

The James Bond movies – the most recent one of which, Goldfinger, premiered in the UK on the same day as The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse, though West German audiences won't get to see it until January – are enormously popular in Europe. Exotic locations, pulpy adventure and outlandish villains are a large part of the appeal of the Bond movies and since these ingredients can also be found in the Mabuse series, Mabuse and Bond should be a match made in heaven. And while Peter Van Eyck is no Sean Connery and a little old for an action hero (fifty-one compared to Connery's thirty-four), he certainly has the required charm and square-jawed handsomeness to play a Bond stand-in.

Yvonne Furneaux and Peter Van Eyck in The Death ray of Dr. Mabuse
Major Bob Anders (Peter Van Eyck) tangles with Gilda Larsen (Yvonne Furneaux) in "The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse"

There is only one problem. The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse just doesn't work, neither as a Mabuse movie nor as a Bond look-alike. The main issue here is that the James Bond movies present their exotic locations and beautiful women in full Technicolor glory, while the Mabuse films have always worked best when imitating the atmospheric black and white look of the expressionist cinema of the Weimar Republic which gave birth to the character. Mabuse thrives in the shadows, but Death Ray drags him into the bright Mediterranean sunshine. As a result, the exterior scenes feel overlit and washed out, while the extensive underwater scenes seem blurry and murky. I have no doubt that the coast of Malta – or rather the coast of Italy standing in for the coast of Malta – is beautiful, but in this movie it is just grey.

Would Death Ray have worked better, if it had been shot in colour? I suspect we'll never know. However, I'm not the only one who is dissatisfied with the movie, since the box office performance of Death Ray has been underwhelming so far. Opening against Winnetou II, one of the most highly anticipated movies of the year, didn't help either.

So what's next for Dr. Mabuse? Producer Artur Brauner has indicated that he still has plans for two more Mabuse movies. And the nature of the character and the series allows Brauner to forget that Death Ray ever existed and just start over with a new lead actor in a new location. The only question now is, what form will the next incarnation of Dr. Mabuse take.

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 26, 1964] Yesterday's Tomorrows (First Men in the Moon and Other Steam Science Fiction Movies)

1 Comment


by Victoria Silverwolf

Monsieur Verne and Mister Wells at the Movies

A decade ago, Walt Disney Productions had a big hit on their hands with their cinematic adaptation of the famous Jules Verne novel 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. It was popular with both audiences and critics, winning Academy Awards for Art Direction and Special Effects. It was a lovely film, full of charming details combining futuristic technology with aesthetics of the past.

The super-submarine Nautilus; a thing of beauty.

The success of this nostalgic science fiction adventure led to a number of Verne adaptations. Most notable was Around the World in 80 Days, a lush, big budget production notable for the number of Hollywood stars who made cameo appearances.

Old Blue Eyes in a tiny role as a piano player.

Since then we've had enjoyable films taken from the French author of Extraordinary Voyages, including Journey to the Center of the Earth, Master of the World, and Mysterious Island, all reviewed here at Galactic Journey.  A couple of lesser Verne adaptations, namely Valley of the Dragons and Five Weeks in a Balloon, did not escape the acid pen of our local critics.  There was also From the Earth to the Moon, which somehow managed to slip under the radar of our Galactic Journeyers.  This was a handsomely filmed, if rather dull, account of an American munitions manufacturer (Joseph Cotton) using a powerful explosive to send a spaceship to the Moon just after the Civil War.


Blast off!

Not to be outdone, H. G. Wells, the British master of Scientific Romances, came to the big screen not too long ago in the George Pal production of The War of the Worlds, another Oscar winner for Best Special Effects.

A Martian war machine on the prowl for Earthlings.

Although this version of the story updated the setting to modern times, Pal returned to the Nineteenth Century with an even more highly regarded Wells adaptation, The Time Machine, which won kudos from our host.

With the exception of The War of the Worlds, what these films have in common is the fact that they take place in the Victorian Era. For lack of a better term, we might refer to this sub-genre of fantastic cinema as Steam Science Fiction. I was recently able to attend a secret sneak preview of the latest offering of this kind, already released in the United Kingdom, and due to appear in American theaters later this year. Watch for the trailer the next time you're at your local cinema.

Fly Me to the Moon; Or, A Trip to the Moon on Gossamer Wings


In Dynamation and LunaColor, no less.

First Men in the Moon is directed by Nathan Juran, a veteran of science fiction films, both good (20 Million Miles to Earth) and not so good (The Brain from Planet Arous.) The screenplay for this British production comes from the combined pens of Nigel Kneale (best known to SF fans across the pond for his television serials The Quatermass Experiment and Quatermass II) and Jan Read, who contributed to the delightful fantasy film Jason and the Argonauts.


Don't forget, it's in, not on.

We begin in the near future, as an international team of astronauts land on the Moon.  They find a Union Jack and a note claiming the satellite in the name of Queen Victoria.


A mystery!

The note happens to be written on the back of a legal contract mentioning the name Katherine Callender.  Investigation leads to the discovery of Arnold Bedford, the man Miss Callender married long ago, now nearly a century old.  He tells his incredible story, and we go into a long flashback, firmly in the land of Steam Science Fiction.


Martha Hyer and Edward Judd as the two Victorian lovebirds.

In 1899, our happy couple encounter Joseph Cavor, an eccentric scientist who creates a substance that deflects gravity. Having a healthy ego, he names the stuff Cavorite.   As if that were not enough, he plans to use it to launch a spaceship on a lunar voyage.


Lionel Jeffries as the inventor.

Arnold agrees to go to the Moon with Cavor, which seems like a rash decision for a man about to be married.  Through a series of unforeseen circumstances, Katherine winds up accidentally accompanying them; you know how much trouble women are!  The unlikely trio winds up on the surface of Earth's satellite after a particularly rough landing.


The charming little spaceship approaches its target.

Katherine is left behind, no doubt to prepare tea and crumpets, while the two men don diving suits and set out to explore this strange new world.

Things really get interesting when our heroes fall down a shaft and wind up inside the Moon, justifying the title.  It seems that the interior is inhabited by insect-like, sentient beings, whom Cavor dubs Selenites.  The plot, mostly played for light comedy up to this point, takes a more serious turn when Arnold, panicking at the sight of the aliens, attacks and kills several of them.  The two men escape back to the surface, only to discover that the Selenites have dragged their spaceship, and the woman inside it, underground.


A Selenite, brought to life through the magic of Dynamation.

What follows is a fast-moving adventure, as the intrepid pair explore the city of the Selenites in search of Katherine, battle a huge, caterpillar-like monster, and encounter the Grand Lunar, ruler of the Selenites.   An interesting aspect of the story is the contrast between Cavor, the man of science, who wants to exchange knowledge with the Selenites, and Arnold, the man of action, who believes they pose a threat to humanity.


What good is a science fiction thriller without a huge monster?


The Grand Lunar, not at all happy about human aggressiveness.

An ironic ending brings us back to the near future, as we find out what happened to the three explorers and the Selenites.

Adding greatly to the film's appeal is the outstanding stop-motion animation of Ray Harryhausen.  The eerie and imaginative world inside the Moon excites the viewer's sense of wonder, and the Victorian design of Cavor's spaceship provides a great deal of charm.  You might have to be a little bit patient with the relaxed pace of the opening scenes, but the result is well worth the wait.

Four stars.

As we enter a new era of space exploration, with the very real possibility that a human being will stand on the surface of the Moon within a decade, it's fitting that we look back on those who imagined the future and wrote about it.  I hope that more Steam Science Fiction movies appear in theaters in the days to come, and that we never forget the dreamers of yesteryear.

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




1 Comment Leave A Comment
Movies

[July 10, 1964] Greetings from the Red Planet (The Movie, Robinson Crusoe on Mars)

5 Comments


by Natalie Devitt

Spacewrecked

According to the previews for Robinson Crusoe on Mars, the movie is "scientifically authentic. It is only one step ahead of present reality." This update of Daniel Defoe’s 1719 novel Robinson Crusoe is directed by Byron Haskin, best known for directing The War of the Worlds, which was produced by George Pal (The Time Machine (1960)). Haskin and Pal have also made another picture that attempted to depict a more accurate Mars: Conquest of Space (1955). Intrigued by these films and interested in Haskin’s more recent work on some of my favorite entries of The Outer Limits thus far, like The Architects of Fear and A Feasibility Study, I was determined not to miss Robinson Crusoe on Mars.

So, is the movie worth a trip to your local theater?

The movie opens up aboard a spaceship carrying Commander Christopher Draper (played by Paul Mantee, appearing in his first film major film role), Colonel Dan McReady (Adam West, an actor commonly found on television westerns) and an adorable monkey named Mona. Things take an unexpected turn when they detect a meteoroid and are "forced out of orbital velocity to avoid collision with planetoid into tighter orbit of Mars." As the situation worsens, the crew is left with no other option than to immediately attempt to land on the fourth planet. While fleeing the vehicle in their individual escape pods, Draper is separated from McReady and Mona.


Welcome to Mars

Draper adapts to the conditions on the red planet, while searching for McReady and Mona. Even though he is part of the first crew on Mars, Draper learns quickly what it takes to survive. He finds shelter in a cave. For heat, Draper discovers yellow rocks that "burn like coal.” Heating the rocks not only keeps him warm, but also produces oxygen, which he then uses to refill his oxygen tank. Throughout the film, Draper keeps a careful audio record about all that he experiences, which provides a useful narrative device when things happen off-screen.

After many days, Draper finally locates McReady’s pod, but the poor colonel did not survive the landing. Shortly after giving McReady a proper burial, Draper runs into Mona, who is happily alive. Reunited with her and assuming that they are all alone, Draper tries rationing what little food and water they have. Surprisingly, the reduced rations do not seem to bother Mona one bit. She "spends most of her days off somewhere." Finding this unusual, Draper devises a plan, which involves feeding her a salty meal without water, believing that she might be able to lead him to a water source. Sure enough, she does — an underground hot spring. In the water, Draper also notices some strange plant that his little primate pal is eating, which resembles seaweed on the outside, but once peeled, contains something that looks an awful lot like sausage. Draper calls it "Martian food." He soon finds that the plant has several other uses, because you can "eat it, weave it and you wear it.”


No happy sunset for Adam West this time


Martian hot springs

After more than four months on Mars, Draper longs for human companionship. All of his training has not prepared him for the extreme isolation he experiences while stranded on a strange planet, and his mind begins playing tricks on him. Snapping out of an episode in which he is visited by the ghost of Colonel McReady, he concludes that "a guy can lick the problems of heat, water, shelter” and that that loneliness is the greatest obstacle that he has encountered while on the planet. Around this time, he stumbles upon alien remains. On the extraterrestrial skeleton are strange black bangle bracelets. Draper believes that the being is a murder victim due to its skull showing signs of trauma and being charred.

Later, Draper's radio picks up signals of an "interplanetary vehicle.” Draper rushes toward the spaceship, only for its crew to shoot directly at him and narrowly miss. In the chaos, Draper runs into an alien bearing a striking resemblance to a man, dressed in clothing that looks straight out of some ancient civilization, with black bracelets on both wrists identical to the ones he found on the skeleton earlier. He soon realizes that the alien (played by Victor Lundin of Ma Barker’s Killer Brood) is an escaped slave who worked in mines on Mars, while other human-like creatures in spacesuits held the slaves at gun-point.


Hebrews building the Martian pyramids

Draper feeds the slave and offers him a place to stay. Draper believes that the slave owners are from a planet "other than Mars” and that they handle their slaves "electronically”, using the black bangles. He names the slave, who he presumes to be mute, "Friday, with apologies to Robinson Crusoe."

Friday, as it turns out, is actually capable of speech. Once Draper realizes this, he tells Friday, "You’re going to learn English, if I have to sit on your chest for two months.” The two eventually become close friends. Friday is part of an alien species originally from ”the center of the belt of Orion.” Friday shares with Draper painful memories of working in the mine. The alien also expresses concern that "the enemy" will use his bracelets to track him down, so Draper tries to help Friday remove them. Friday’s captors return for him, but Friday, Draper and Mona are determined to stick together.

Thus ensues a long trek to the Martian North Pole, mostly underground to avoid the slavers. This portion of the film is very scenic, although not much happens. Upon reaching the polar ice caps, Draper picks up a spaceship again…but this time, it's an Earth rescue vessel. The three will be saved.

A Mixed Bag of Oxy-rocks

Robinson Crusoe on Mars feels like two completely different movies in one, due to its changing tone midway. The first half of it is a much more serious and slow story about a man’s struggle for survival. But once Friday enters the picture, things speed up and get a lot sillier. To be perfectly honest, the transition from one part to the other is not as smooth as I would have liked. That said, screenwriters Ib Melchior (The Seventh Planet) and John C. Higgins do a surprisingly good job of bringing Defoe’s story to space.

The first half of the movie is not just slow, but also fairly quiet. Most spoken words are Draper recording himself or talking to a pet monkey. Draper seems like a person with good intentions, but I have to admit he is not the friendliest guy and often treats Mona better than Friday. Draper whines about not having someone besides Mona and when he finds someone kind of like a human, he treats him pretty poorly at first.


Single living on Mars is a drag

To the movie’s credit, Robinson Crusoe on Mars does seem to be much more rooted in science than many science fiction films that came before it. Most equipment used by the actors seems fairly realistic. The actors are pretty believable operating their spaceship and using different devices. Many of the characteristics of Mars seem a bit more accurate than you tend to see in the movies. Still, one has to suspend disbelief to enjoy the film.

My big issue with the film was the way it handles the planet’s lack of oxygen, which the characters deal with by consuming their pills that "bypass the lungs and produce oxygen right in the blood”, or using an oxygen tank as sparingly as once every 10-15 minutes. It's not that there isn't enough oxygen, but that there is still probably far too much compared to what we actually know of Martian conditions. There are also fires that manage to burn heartily on Mars’ surface, despite the lack of oxygen, though they did contribute to the overall look of the film.


Two ways to deal with the lack of oxygen on Mars

Visually, Robinson Crusoe on Mars is a stunning achievement. It is more than a movie, it is an experience with Winton C. Hoch’s gorgeous Technicolor photography, Matte paintings by Albert Whitlock, and auroras which dance in the sky to yet another memorable score by Nathan Van Cleave. The highly-saturated colors and all the Death Valley exterior shots look incredible on the big screen. Also, fans of 1953’s The War of the Worlds might be amused by some of the miniatures used in the film.


Alien craft looking…strangely familiar.

All in all, I am happy to report that I did not leave the theater disappointed. The movie is worth the price of a ticket, and I hope it gets the attention it deserves. Reportedly, the picture was made independently and distributed through Paramount. The film is superior to many movies with much larger budgets, which is why I am giving it a pretty solid three stars.

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]



5 Comments Leave A Comment
Movies

[June 24, 1964] Death Has No Master (Roger Corman's The Masque of the Red Death)

3 Comments


by Rosemary Benton

I feel sorry for those who rely entirely on the words of critics to determine whether or not a film is worth seeing. It's so easy to miss out of some of the most absurd and fun movies out there if the viewer approaches them with too analytical a mindset. For instance, those who read The New York Time's review of The Comedy of Terror really missed out on the humor of seeing the iconic actors of horror from the 30s and 40s satirize their own legacies.

In anticipation of the June 24th release of Roger Corman's new movie, The Masque of the Red Death, I dared to take a look at an advanced review of the film from Variety Magazine. Since seeing the film after its premier in Los Angeles, I can sympathize with some of the negative points in the above mentioned article, but it still annoys me that there will be people who will avoid this new Edgar Allan Poe tribute film simply because the Variety review and others seem to be approaching it with a lukewarm reception. Yes, The Masque of the Red Death has its faults, but for a horror movie that takes itself seriously in a time when classic horror themes have become passé, this is a very competently done and memorable movie.

Prince Prospero (Vincent Price) is a malicious yet pragmatic and cuttingly frank man whose province in medieval Italy has all but succumbed to the fictitious disease, the Red Death. Although a proud and evangelical self proclaimed Satanist, the Prince is able to rationalize his beliefs in Satan as an all powerful living God by drawing direct inspiration from the morally dubious nature of humanity and the ever present suffering of the world. Taking a woman named Francesca (Jane Asher) from one of the nearby villages after she pleads for the life of her fiancé and father, Prince Prospero makes it his mission to convert her from a believer in God to a hand maiden of Satan, and consequently a hand maiden to himself as a sort of high priest to Satan.

His harsh lessons ultimately culminate in a grand celebration at his palace where his “friends” and followers within the Italian aristocracy plan to feast and revel in a masquerade. All must dress in any human like garb they wish, but per his orders none are allowed to wear red. When a lone figure arrives in towering red robes, Prince Prospero angrily pursues him. The intruder is nothing that he expected, however, and bears a message that he is horrified to hear.

Roger Corman has drawn inspiration from the dark elegance of Edgar Allan Poe's bibliography for years now. Since his production and direction of the 1960 gothic horror film House of Usher, Corman has had at least one Poe-themed film released every year, all of which have been financial successes, if not necessarily critically received. In The Masque of the Red Death Corman once again captures the grandiosity and bleak horror of Poe's writing with the aid of his favorite go-to villainous gentleman, Vincent Price.

The Masque of the Red Death is unique in Corman's work to date. In the 1950s the young and ambitious schlock producer gained a name for himself by churning out many of the low budget, drive-in titles that we grew up on – The Fast and the Furious (1954), Day the World Ended (1955), and Machine Gun Kelley (1958). Using his growing reputation as a Hollywood force who could corral the crew, shoot a film in as little as five days, and still present a profitable final product, Corman swiftly moved on to producing and directing.

His subject matter has included some very interesting forays into edgier territories within American film since the enforcement of the Hayes Code in 1934. Of particular note I would point to the agency of the female characters in The Wasp Woman (1959), the self-aware satire in A Bucket of Blood (1959), and the rage of white racists against school desegregation in The Intruder (1962). In The Masque of the Red Death the topics of the film's plot are not so much unique as they are distinct for being so well interwoven.

The screenplay is credited to Twilight Zone writer Charles Beaumont and R. Wright Campbell (who wrote the screenplay for the 1957 film Man of A Thousand Faces). Their combined effort added an immense amount of humanity and depth to the original sparseness of Poe’s writing. Although the title clearly states that the movie is an adaptation of Poe's 1842 short story "The Mask of the Red Death: A Fantasy", the film is actually a merger of “Mask” with another Poe short story from 1849 titled, "Hop-Frog; Or, the Eight Chained Ourangoutangs". Given that the story of “Mask” is so sparse in characters outside of the protagonist Prince Prospero and the plague personification in The Red Death, the film was obviously in need of other characters to flesh it out into a feature film. The end result penned by Beaumont and Campbell is so perfect that it could easily be believed that the two stories were originally written as one.

The visuals in Corman’s Poe movies are likewise a stark departure from the static and clunky cinematography of his 1950s productions. Working with cinematographer Nicolas Roag (best known for his work on David Lean's 1962 film Lawrence of Arabia), The Masque of the Red Death kept the sharp colors and excellent sets of Corman’s earlier Poe movies. Roag's artistic eye brought it above and beyond that, however. The movement of the camera and the actors achieves a flowing and poetic feel that is new to Corman’s movies. The scene of The Red Death gliding through the revelers at the climax of the film is particularly gripping, as is the creative decision to have the end credits consist of a red and black dichromatic color scheme with the credits appearing in white around slowly placed tarot cards.

It’s a pleasure to see that as Roger Corman gains momentum in the film world he is readily making use of the network of talent opening up to him. Meanwhile, those he has relied upon for previous projects, particularly Vincent Price and R. Wright Campbell, seem to be flourishing under his more experienced directorship and heavier production budgets. My final thought on the film is that as a long time fan of Vincent Price I was thrilled to see that the poor performance I witnessed from Price in The Last Man on Earth was not indicative of a downward spiral for him. While he looked old and brittle in his role as Dr. Robert Morgan – a lonely, despondent, and disillusioned scientist – Price sprang to full vibrant life in a role that really allowed him to channel his inner devil – that of a swarthy, learned, arrogant, pompous and cruel classic villain. No matter what viewers might hear in the critical response to this film, it is a work that is absolutely worth the cost of admission. Of Corman's current bibliography this is a four and a half out of five stars. If Roger Corman continues to assemble and wield his creative team this well in his future projects then he is going to become a force to be reckoned with.

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




3 Comments Leave A Comment
Movies

[June 10, 1964] What washed up (Horror at Party Beach)

6 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

Natalie Devitt, bless her soul, is a good sport.  When even my own wife and daughter won't come to the Drive-In with me, I can count on the Journey's resident film and TV expert to share the popcorn. I'd learned that Del Tenney had a new double-feature of schlock presenting at the local spot, combining The Horror at Party Beach and The Curse of the Living Corpse.  The newspaper even said you had to fill out a waiver so you wouldn't sue if the films gave you a heart attack (an old Castle Films gimmick).

When Natalie came over for our monthly record-listening date, I showed her the clipping.  How could she refuse?  So, we trundled down to San Diego (I understand they might build a Drive-In in Oceanside soon, which would be nice) and promptly became the one pair of moviegoers that wasn't necking. 

I'm shocked, I tell ya.  How could they fail to be entranced by Tenney's brilliant fusion of the beach and horror genres?  Well…it wasn't that hard.  Read on and find out.

First up, we get a jazzy soundtrack and the rumble of engines.  Our hero and his current flame are toodling along in a very nice convertible.  Main Man is not too thrilled by the biker gang escort, nor his girlfriend's making of the goo-goo eyes at the head cycle enthusiast.  A race ensues, which the car handily wins.


"Hey!  No passing on the right!"

Meanwhile, out to sea, we witness a conscientious barge crewman dropping canisters of clearly labeled radioactive waste into the water.  It turns out that he is not depth charging a German U-Boat but simply getting rid of the stuff in as cost-effective a manner as possible.  It's too bad we don't have laws against this kind of thing.  Maybe LBJ can make it part of his Great Society.


Making The Enemy Below.

Main Man and his +1 arrive at their destination, the swingingest beach party ever filmed in monochrome, without the benefit (liability?) of Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello.


Hey!  It's Hank Marvin of The Shadows


Just your typical beach party.

The movie was billed as "The First Horror Monster Musical", but it really just had a lot of beach band scenes played by a weird cross between the Beach Boys and the Shadows.  I was perfectly fine with this.  In fact, I probably would have watched the forty-five minute short film that could have been stitched together from the party footage; they looked like they were having fun.

At least until the bad guys showed up…


Beautifully choreographed entrance by the Charter Oak Motorcycle Club of Riverside, Connecticut.

Main Man's fickle flame does a passion dance for the leather jacketed biker hunk, and of course, a the male domination ritual ensues.


I know I packed my muscles in here somewhere.

The fight is soon over, brain having triumphed over brawn.  I guess.  Interestingly enough, the biker turns out to be a swell fellow about it. 


This is the most romantic tension in the film.

Fickle Flame (you can see how much of an impression the movie made on me — I can't remember any of the names) decides she can't compete with a couple of Real Men and goes off to swim on her own.  This is a Bad Idea.


As seen on The Outer Limits


Being smeared with chocolate syrup is painful and lethal.

This murder is big news.  The local law enforcement gets involved and quickly realizes this is above their pay grade, so they contract out to the local scientist, the Platonic ideal of an egghead.


Glasses and pipe, Eric Dolphy's latest hit.

Cecil the Seasick Sea Monster, in the meantime, somehow spawns a buddy, and they attack a local slumber party.


"Wanna come over and eat S'mores and hit each other with pillows?"


"NEVER MIND!"

And then three ladies get stranded on the side of road with a flat tire.  For some reason, the shortcut to New York City from Connecticut runs through a roadless forest.  Too bad for them.


"Is it the Auto Club man?"  No.

After that mauling, we get a romantic interlude between Main Man and Egghead's Daughter.  This scene is welcome because it features more music by the Pseudows.


"It's so good to just relax after all the mass murder that's been going around."

Cut to a hungry Sea Zombie who, after missing out on his chance to eat another pair of women, decides to try his luck on a store window mannequin.  Instead, the monster slices its arm off on the glass.  This proves fortuitous, for it gives Doc Egghead the opportunity to probe into the monsters' nature.  He determines that they are revived corpses, mutated from skeletons (!) by radiation.  As former humans, only one substance is sufficient to sustain them — human blood.  Apparently the array of sausages in the monsters' mouths is actually a set of suckers.  Not that this is ever made clear in the action.

Eulabelle, the superstitious, Voodoo-worshipping maid (because, of course she is), spills a beaker of sodium on the arm, and it bursts into flame.  It's all the water in its make-up, apparently.  Now the good guys have a defense against the Cecils!


"But how will we get the stain out, Eulabelle?"

But how to find them?  Despite being shambly and not terribly bright, they are somehow impossible to find.  That is, until Egghead's Daughter hatches (haha!) the idea to use geiger counters to track their radioactive trail.  With no time to lose, given that the population of the small town has already shrunk by about half, everyone disperses to track the Uranium traces.

Alone.


I generally have better luck with a jig or a spinner.

This puts Egghead's Daughter at risk.  In fact, she is soon assaulted by not two, but a full dozen monsters (but we never see more than two at a time close up, probably because Tenney only had two suits).


One fish, two fish, gray fish, gray fish.

Luckily for her, the MEN arrive in time, sodium grenades in hand, and torch the bad guys.


In a scene right out of Zulu!

The seven remaining townsfolk live happily ever, and the credits roll, made all the better by a return of the band.


No kidding — they're called the "Del-Aires"!

Post-mortem

That's the plot.  How was the movie?  From my sardonic description and the attached clips, I imagine the movie looks pretty bad.

That's good.  It was pretty bad.

However, schlock it might have been, but it wasn't entirely dreck.  Sure, it was no Psycho, but someone on their team was a decent editor, keeping the scenes and the overall movie trucking right along.  I was flabbergasted, I was made to roll my eyes, but I was never bored.  And while the film's score was no great shakes, consisting of one vibrato-laden underwater sting, the band was good in a "high school kids making ends meet over the summer" kind of way.  Plus, I got to see what all the kids were wearing to the beach last year (the movie has a 1963 copyright date).

If there was a disappointment it's that the film missed an opportunity.  At one point, the Cecils decide to prey on a pair of affable drunks (two of the three men slain in the film, as opposed to at least twenty women).  I had hoped they'd show the Sea Zombies stumbling around in a drunken stupor, but nothing doing.

Bugging Out

Anyway, neither Natalie nor I were enthused about watching the second flick of the double feature.  Luckily, the new Paramount technicolor flick, Robinson Crusoe on Mars, was playing on the Drive-In's other screen.  After a brief stop at the concession stand for more popcorn, we decided to give the bigger budget film a try.

But that's a story for another article…

(Note: you can buy the 8mm prints of both Tenney movies, with sound, here.)

Speaking of films, enjoy this latest appearance by the Traveler and Young Traveler — this time, we're talking about the Van Allen Belts!





6 Comments Leave A Comment
Movies

[June 4, 1964] Weird Menace and Villainy in the London Fog: The West German Edgar Wallace Movies

10 Comments


by Cora Buhlert

The biggest phenomenon in West German cinemas in the past five years is none other than Edgar Wallace, Britain's king of thrillers.

The enduring popularity of Edgar Wallace in Germany may seem baffling, since Wallace died in 1932 and most of his thrillers were written in the 1910s and 1920s. American readers will probably best remember Wallace as the creator of King Kong and screenwriter of the eponymous movie.


Edgar Wallace

However, Germans have long loved Edgar Wallace, which is odd, since Edgar Wallace did not particularly like Germany, as many of his writings show. Nonetheless, his thrillers were hugely popular in Germany in the 1920s and early 1930s, until the Nazis banned them along with the entire crime genre as "too subversive". In the 1950s, paperback publisher Goldmann started reissuing the Edgar Wallace thrillers to great success. And as always when something is successful, others took note. One of them was "Heftroman" publisher Pabel, whose Utopia Kriminal line of science fiction thrillers was directly inspired by the popularity of the Edgar Wallace novels.

German film producers also took note and indeed there were a few German Edgar Wallace adaptations during the silent and early talkie era. However, plans to adapt Edgar Wallace novels in 1950s repeatedly failed, because crime and thriller movies supposedly did not sell in postwar West Germany, since viewers allegedly demanded harmless musicals and romances set in beautiful landscapes rather than tales of crime and murder. In 1959, Danish film producer Preben Philipsen took a chance and adapted the Edgar Wallace novel The Fellowship of the Frog for German audiences. The result was a huge success and led to a wave of more or less faithful Edgar Wallace adaptations (nineteen to date) and copycats that show no sign of abating.


Poster for Face of the Frog (1959)

The Edgar Wallace movies are primarily crime thrillers, though there is nothing remotely realistic about them. Instead, the films are set in a fog-drenched England and particularly London that never was, full of dodgy harbour bars where nefarious crimes are plotted as curvy sirens sing torch songs, where the River Thames is used a convenient corpse disposal and where Scotland Yard is headed by a dim-witted gentleman named Sir John (played by Siegfried Schürenberg who serves as a sort of link between the various movies) with a taste for buxom secretaries. Inspectors are handsome and dashing, played by either Heinz Drache or Joachim Fuchsberger, unless they are played by the plump and balding Siegfried Lowitz, in which case he has a dashing Sergeant. There is always a comic relief character, often a bumbling butler, who is usually played by Eddi Arent.


Joachim Fuchsberger, Siegfried Schürenberg and Eddi Arent in The Squeaker (1963)

Women in Edgar Wallace movies come in three flavours, mysterious elderly ladies, usually played by veteran UfA actresses, who may or may not be involved in the villain's machinations, buxom femme fatales who are involved with the villain and often end up paying the ultimate price for their villainous ways (Eva Pflug in Face of the Frog was the best of them) and finally, young and pretty damsels in distress (often played by Karin Dor), who find themselves pursued and often kidnapped by the villain, before they are rescued and end up marrying the dashing Inspector.


Eva Pflug being admired by Jochen Brockmann in Face of the Frog (1959)

Occasionally, the Wallace movies manage to subvert expectations. And so the dashing detective is unmasked as the killer in The Red Circle (1960), while the wide-eyed ingenue is revealed to be the showgirl slashing killer in this year's Room 13.


Poster for The Red Circle

Wallace villains are never just ordinary criminals, but run improbably large and secretive organisations with dozens of henchmen. At least one of the henchmen is deformed or flat out insane, played either by former wrestler Ady Berber or a charismatic young actor named Klaus Kinski, who gave the performance of his life as a mute and insane animal handler in last year's The Squeaker.


Klaus Kinski threatening Inge Langen in The Squeaker

The crimes are extremely convoluted, usually involve robberies, blackmail or inheritance schemes and are always motivated by greed. Murder methods are never ordinary and victims are dispatched via harpoons, poison blow guns, guillotines or wild animals. The villains inevitably have strange monikers such as the Frog, the Shark, the Squeaker, the Avenger, the Green Archer or the Black Abbot and often wear a costume to match. Their identity is always a mystery and pretty much every character comes under suspicion until the big reveal at the end. And once the mask comes off, the villain is inevitably revealed to be a staunch pillar of society and often a member of Sir John's club.


The Frog kidnapping Eva Anthes in Face of the Frog (1959)


The Green Archer terrifies Karin Dor in The Green Archer (1961)


Eddi Arent attempts to apprehend the the Black Abbot in the eponymous film (1963)

The Edgar Wallace films are cheaply made, with Hamburg or Berlin standing in for London and German castles standing in for British mansions. Nonetheless, they have a unique visual flair, courtesy of directors Harald Reinl, Jürgen Roland and Alfred Vohrer. All films are shot in stylish black and white, using the widescreen Ultrascope process. Contrasts of light and shadow are used to great effect, such as the shadow of a dangling noose falling onto a stark white prison wall in Face of the Frog. Strange camera angles are common and scenes are shot through the eyes of an unseen killer, through the dial of a rotary telephone and in one memorable case, though the mouth of Sir John chomping on a carrot. The highly stylised look of the Edgar Wallace films is uncommon in contemporary German cinema. Instead, the Edgar Wallace films take their visual inspiration from the expressionist cinema of the 1920s and early 1930s, returning German filmmaking to where it was before the Nazis took over.


Karin Dor spies on The Terrible People (1960)

Are the Edgar Wallace films science fiction? Well, they are mainly crime thrillers, though they also include horror elements and take visual inspiration from the German horror cinema of more than thirty years ago. The Dead Eyes of London from 1961 is probably the closest the Wallace series has come to pure horror to date, largely due to the performance of Ady Berber as the blind and supernaturally strong killer Jack.


Program book for The Dead Eyes of London, featuring Ady Berber threatening Karin Baal

Science fiction elements also frequently appear in the Edgar Wallace movies, often in the form of death traps and complicated murder methods. The Green Archer (1961) uses the old standby of the underground chamber (in which the villain, played by the excellent Gert Fröbe, has kept the lover who spurned him imprisoned for decades) that slowly fills with water. The Strange Countess (1961) features a deadly electrified grid, which protects the jewels the titular villainess has stolen. The Countess, played with chilling haughtiness by silent era veteran Lil Dagover, is eventually electrocuted by her own death trap. Meanwhile, in The Dead Eyes of London, a domed glass tank in the basement of a church-run home for the blind is used to drown wealthy men before their bodies are thrown into the Thames, allowing the villainous Dead Eye gang to claim their life insurance. And in The Squeaker, the titular villain dispatches his opponents via a blow gun shooting crystals of snake venom. As mentioned above, the criminal plots and murder methods in the Wallace are always convoluted and often don't make a whole lot of sense. But that doesn't matter, because you're usually much too captivated by the going-ons on screen to worry about such little matters as logic.


Lil Dagover prowls her castle in The Strange Countess (1961)

The 1962 film The Door With Seven Locks even features a bona fide mad scientist, played by Wallace film regular Pinkas Braun, who conducts medical experiments such as brain transplants in a hidden vault underneath a country mansion. This makes the otherwise not particularly remarkable The Door With Seven Locks the most science fictional Edgar Wallace film to date.


Poster for The Door with the Seven Locks (1962)

Critics don't like the Edgar Wallace films, complaining about the lack of realism, the alleged predictability, the lurid and sensational nature of the crimes portrayed and the (by West German standards) high levels of violence. Those critics have a point, for the Edgar Wallace films are lurid and sensational, violent and completely unrealistic. However, the sheer artificiality is why I enjoy these movies so much and why I inevitably head for the neighbourhood movie theatre whenever a new Edgar Wallace movie premieres (and we currently get several of them every year). Even the lesser entries of the series are well worth watching and the standouts such as Face of the Frog, The Green Archer, The Dead Eyes of London, The Inn on the River, The Squeaker or The Indian Scarf provide excellent chills and thrills.


Poster for The Squeaker (1963) )

As for those who claim that the Edgar Wallace movies have nothing to do with real life, well, they're mistaken, for the Wallace films do reflect contemporary West German concerns, though through the distorted lens of a funhouse mirror. The fact that the motive for the bizarre crimes on screen is always greed reflects concerns about the rampant materialism in postwar West Germany. Just as the fact that the villain is inevitably revealed to be an upstanding pillar of society under his (or more rarely her) mask is all too reminiscent of recent revelations that quite a few politicians, judges, doctors, professors, civil servants and captains of industry used to be Nazis and still somehow managed to continue their careers unimpeded in postwar West Germany. As for the tendency of henchmen in Wallace movies to mutter, "But I was just following orders. You can't blame me", when captured – well, where have we heard that before?


Poster for The Terrible People (1960)

The Edgar Wallace movies offer pleasantly comforting shudders, as the viewer delves into a strange parallel world, where London is the murder capital of Europe and the Squeaker, the Frog, the Black Abbot and the rest of the Wallace menagerie stalk the fog-shrouded streets to commit bizarre crimes. And even though all movies stand alone, they are set in the same universe with Siegfried Schürenberg's Sir John acting as a link between the different stories. This shared universe concept occasionally shows up in literature such as the Cthulhu mythos, but has never really been tried in movies so far. The possibilities are limitless.


Sir John (Siegfried Schürenberg) is shocked that the latest villain turns out to be yet another member of his club.

The success of the Edgar Wallace movies quickly spawned a host of imitators. Producer Artur Brauner acquired the rights to several crime novels by Bryan Edgar Wallace, son of Edgar Wallace, while Constantin Film adapted several novels by Czech writer and Edgar Wallace imitator Louis Weinert-Wilton. Other imitations are more of a stretch, such as a series of Wallace style movies featuring G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown.

However, the most interesting of the many crime thrillers released in the wake of the Edgar Wallace movies are the Dr. Mabuse movies produced by Artur Brauner. Based on a supervillain character created by Norbert Jacques in the 1920s, they are not just unambiguously science fiction, but also a return to the glory days of German cinema during the Weimar Republic. But that's a subject for another day.

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




10 Comments Leave A Comment
Movies

[March 31, 1964] 7 Faces and 7 Places (The movie, 7 Faces of Dr. Lao)

2 Comments


by Victoria Lucas

Place Number 1: Denver

The neat thing about film festivals is not just being able to see more than one film in a short period of time.  It's the gossip, the revelations, the people who show up, some of them onstage.  In this case the festival site was Denver, Colorado.  Seem an unlikely place for a film festival?  But there it was that "7 Faces of Dr. Lao," made last year, enjoyed its first U.S. release on March 18.  I went there basically to see that one film, but my ride-sharing friend went to see many.  So I saw a little of Denver outside the movie theater.  But I'm not here to review Denver. 


My mom's postcard—I don't have a camera

Place Number 2: the MGM lot

If you saw my review of Finney's Circus of Dr. Lao back on June 16, 1962 you would know why I went to such (literally) lengths to see this movie.  It did not disappoint, but I did object to the interpolations of a soppy romance and a hackneyed Western takeover-the-town plot.  The "Circus" was filmed, according to sources, on the MGM back lots, although some of those Culver City hills must be pretty rough if that's so.  My theory is that filming on location was out due to the many roles of Tony Randall, who plays Dr. Lao, the Abominable Snowman, Merlin, Apollonius of Tyana, Pan, The Giant Serpent, and Medusa.  All those makeup and costume changes (to say nothing of any other cast) must have needed the workshop of famed makeup artist William Tuttle and a large selection of MGM costumes, as well as (not credited) costumer Robert Fuca.

Place Number 3: Chujen, Chu, China

This was the last place Laozi was seen alive (531 BC), if indeed he did live.  In the movie, but not the book, the Abalone newspaper editor, Ed, asks where he is from, and after Dr. Lao tells him this place, Ed looks it up (providing an opportunity to see his love Agnes, who in the movie is a librarian as well as a teacher) and confronts Dr. Lao with the news that Chujen no longer exists, so what is going on?  So we and Ed see the circus tent and Merlin (not in the book) for the first time.  And that provides me with an excuse to tell you the following.  The plot of both Finney's story and the film was, very briefly, that the circus comes to town, the town of Abalone, to be exact.  But it's not a Barnum & Bailey-type circus.  It arrives somehow with, or in the person of, the Chinese legend Laozi (Lao-Tse, Dr. Lao, or as you wish), since in the movie he arrives on a donkey with only a fishbowl and fish, as well as a pipe, which he ignites with his thumb as lighter.  It consists of other legends, myths, and gods in—as it were—the flesh.  The rest is what happens to, of, with, by, and from the circus and its hawker, guide, medicine man, and (in the movie) magical self, Dr. Lao.


Courtesy of University of Arizona Special Collections

Place Number 4: Abalone, Arizona

MGM's Abalone, understandably, looks just like all those old western towns you see in television shows and movies, more than one horse, but not more than half a dozen, and not more than that many streets.  I always thought of Finney's Circus as taking place in the late 1920s, when he began the story while he was still billeted in China by the U.S. Army.  But this version of the story takes place in that same smeared-out time zone that westerns always use—somewhere between 1890 and 1910, when record players were known as gramophones, and when men were men and women were uh … unable to take care of ourselves. 

Place Number 5: Tucson, Arizona

Many people, including me, think that Abalone, Arizona—the setting of more than one Finney story—was actually Tucson.  And there is an "Old Tucson," a movie set just outside Tucson that became a tourist attraction in which the stagecoach gets robbed twice daily.  The set really epitomizes that "Old West" stereotype that dominates in "7 Faces."  But in desert scenes, saguaro cacti figure heavily in the movie's landscape.  Most people don't know that saguaros are not found anywhere but in the Sonoran Desert.  There is a certain creep, perhaps a foot or so per year, as the cacti spread around mainly southern Arizona (U.S.) and northern Sonora (Mexico), but at this point they only live in the Southwest, and not on the MGM lot in California.  The ones on the MGM lot look pretty strange.  I would have said that the cacti were the worst things about the movie, were it not that I realized that their strange appearance (looking like cardboard cutouts) adds to the surreal nature of the film.


A real—not surreal—saguaro cactus near Tucson, Arizona

Place Number 6: Dr. Lao's circus tent

The circus tent of the good doctor is said to be "bigger on the inside than it is on the outside" by one observer in the movie, and indeed it has many twistings and turnings.  In fact it is rather like a layered labyrinth and is a remarkable movie set, one of the best inventions of the movie, I think.  There is a lair for every beast, a spiel for every part of the tent.  Steps up, steps down– Hurry! Hurry!–a very strange circus tent that provides the setting for the fish from Dr. Lao's fishbowl, not in the book, but in the movie an excuse for some animation when it grows to the size of the sea serpent advertised.  The book ends with the story of Woldercan (below), but the movie has a showdown with villain Clint Stark's henchmen that burns the tent.

Place Number 7: Woldercan

Woldercan was a city dominated by a vengeful god in Finney's Circus, and now, in the movie, destroyed by improbable cataclysms.  In both the movie and the book, Woldercan is shown as if unfolding outside as the rear of the tent rolls up, but in the movie the people of the city look like the people of Abalone, and they are led astray by a man who looks like Stark.  In the book they are threatened by starvation and flock to the temple, where a dispute over which virgin to sacrifice leads to the deaths of three people—not the whole city.  In the movie the story of Woldercan becomes the turning point in the Stark v. Abalone battle.


The author, courtesy of University of Arizona Special Collections

As I think of it, the movie was funny although not Finney, worth seeing for the performances of Randall and Barbara Eden (Angela), the jokes and pokes at westerns—oh, and don't forget the surrealism.  Go see this circus when it comes to town.

And now for a little catalog.  Finney put one at the end of his story, so I thought I'd put just a short one in:

Plots & bits interposed in Finney's tale:

  • romance of Angela & Ed
  • politics of Clint Stark v. Abalone, including meetings, printshop destruction
  • Lao's interruption of beating of George who is supposed to be a Navajo (Indians from Northern Arizona) played by a Lakota (Plains) Indian
  • inflation of sea monster
  • Lao's trick of lighting his thumb
  • Lao's trick of speaking any dialect, not just perfect English v. Chinee American stereotypical dialect.

Men-like creatures not in book:

  • abominable snowman (screenwriters' solution to the book's Russian v. bear problem)
  • Mike (Angela's son)
  • Clint Stark
  • cowboy muscle and snark
  • Merlin the magician (Apollonius was the magician in the book)
  • Ed Cunningham (Angela's honey and editor of the newspaper)

Woman-like creatures not in book:

  • Angela's mother-in-law

Ending as it began

As for Laozi (not pronounced LOWzee), he was last seen riding into the west, but in the 6th century BC that was on a water buffalo.  On the MGM lot in 1963 it was on a donkey, and in the direction of some cardboard saguaros.  Or, as the movie's Dr. Lao (pronounced LOW) would say, "Hello.  Goodbye.  Thank you."

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge!  Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Movies

[March 19, 1964] When Vampires Rule the World (Ubaldo Ragona and Sidney Salkow's The Last Man on Earth)

4 Comments


by Rosemary Benton

Horror meets SF

As creators and Hollywood producers have found, horror is a versatile complementary genre that has been instrumental to the fear factor within thrillers, the stark human experience in film noir, and the complex depth of character behind a compelling villain. Recently, the genre has been going through a bit of a self-imposed revolution as it moves away from late 1800s and early 1900s stock-stories to pair off with 1950s science fiction literature such as John Wyndham's book The Day of the Triffids. Comedy has increasingly been a partnered with horror, as in The Tingler (1959), the self-aware movie The Comedy of Terrors (January 1964), and the upcoming freaky-family sitcom The Addams Family.

Those who have made a name for themselves as character actors within horror (Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre, Christopher Lee, Bela Lugosi, Peter Cushing, and of course Vincent Price) are more and more finding themselves in roles that are written to be the very embodiments of the characters they were initially typecast as. While they take on these roles with flair and aplomb, seeing them act outside of their comfortable and accommodating niches is an exciting opportunity for their fans. This month the debonair gentleman-villain/tragic aristocrat character actor Vincent Price was given the opportunity to showcase his acting talent in the newly released film, The Last Man on Earth, a film that promised to be a stark departure from his previous roles.

Based on the 1954 novel I Am Legend by Richard Matheson, The Last Man on Earth follows the depressing life of Robert Morgan (played by Vincent Price) after a deadly plague sweeps the planet, turning infected people and animals into shambling, blood thirsty vampire ghouls. Even with the book's heavy reliance on internal dialogue and the writing's somewhat disjointed flow, a brilliant movie adaptation of I Am Legend would be entirely possible in the hands of a succinct screenwriter, a brooding leading actor, and a director capable of bringing severe emotional distress to the screen. Unfortunately, despite the best efforts of the talented team behind Last Man, none of these elements quite linked up with one another. The result is severely disappointing.

What Happened?

Robert Morgan was once a scientist working to find a cure to the plague creeping across the globe. But when the disease took his neighbors, his fellow scientists, then his child and finally his wife, Robert found himself alone with the terrible burden of quite possibly being the last human being alive.

Boarding up his house and festooning it with garlic strands, crosses and mirrors, Robert whiles away his evenings making stakes and farming garlic as the zombie-like vampires beat away at the outside of his house. Alcohol, records, books and home videos are some comfort, but also stand as constant reminders of the civilization he is now bereft of. During the day when the vampires seek shelter from the sun Morgan methodically sweeps the area to hunt them down, stake them, load them into his station wagon and drive the bodies out to an ever burning plague pit.

After three years of this grim routine Robert happens to come across a woman named Ruth Collins (played by Franca Bettoia) who is out walking in the sunlight. He chases her down and brings her back to his home. Robert soon deduces that she is one of the infected, but comes to find out that the vampire disease has been contained with a drug that must be taken regularly lest the victim lose their sanity. She tells him that she was sent to spy on him by order of the new society of vampires she belongs to. The group intends to find a way to take revenge on Robert for killing many of their number as they hid from the sun. She explains to him that he is the new monster in this world, killing during the day while the new norm sleep.

After a short altercation Ruth becomes unconscious. While she is out Robert filters Ruth's blood through his own body via a makeshift dialysis setup, effectively curing her of the vampirism. But Robert's discovery of a cure is too little too late. As Ruth and Robert come to realize the miracle that has taken place a vampire breaks into the house and bites Ruth, effectively ending her brief return to full humanity. Just then black vans full of heavily armed vampires roll up and begin to slaughter the feral ghouls stalking around Robert's property. Their mission is to exterminate Robert, just as he has been doing to any sleeping vampires he has come across. Fleeing the house and running into a church, Robert is pursued and fatally wounded. Spitting venom and insults at the vampires, Robert crumples on the steps to the pulpit and dies as Ruth looks on. The church begins to fill with worshipers as Ruth walks out. She comforts a crying child saying that there is nothing to be afraid of anymore, and then the film fades to black. 

What went wrong

To preface my oncoming analysis of The Last Man on Earth, I wholeheartedly believe that a movie adaptation of a book is not obligated to be a carbon copy of its source material. Movies such as Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) and The Most Dangerous Game (1932) prove this well, both of which were wonderful films even though the creators took liberties with the characters, scenes, and atmosphere of the literature they were based on. That being said, given what the writers of Last Man chose to keep from Matheson's novel and what they chose to tweak, the movie just doesn't come across as raw, desperate and angry as it should be. The blame lies primarily in the music, and as much as it pains me to say this, in the casting of Vincent Price as Robert Morgan.

Upon hearing the opening trills of the music, heralding the credits to begin rolling onto the screen, I felt something was wrong. The music blares loudly over the words with a cliché cacophony of horns and violin before switching to a melodramatic lilting tune, then back to clashing force full of a powerful energy completely at odds with the fragile looking, depressed Vincent Price mulling around his boarded up home. The musical scoring doesn't get any better from there. At times when the audience is supposed to feel the tedium of Robert Morgan's existence there is music that makes you feel as if his daily routine is full of exciting danger. In actuality it is full of mundane horror as he forces himself awake day after day with only the acts of eating, repairing his home, and exterminating the sleeping vampires (men and women alike) to keep his mind occupied.

Most insultingly the entrance of Franca Bettoia's character brings with it a strange romantic subplot that seems to come out of the blue with little buildup and conflicting sincerity. The interplay between Price and Bettoia takes on a very jarring fast succession of shoulder shaking, menacing staring, hysterics and hugging. During all of this the score flips wildly between lovely crescendos and stricken horns blares and drum rolls to show betrayal and hurt. It's reminiscent of the sweeping operatic film scoring common of old horror films from Universal Pictures, but feels very out of date for a modern movie that is supposed to be seething with barely repressed despair and scant few moments of actual hope.

Finally, the visual reason the film fails to emote properly comes to rest on the unfortunately sub-par performance of Vincent Price. For a character who is fast coming to believe that he is the last uninfected human on Earth, Price plays the role of Robert Morgan with too much restraint. Robert Morgan is a man with a young family taken by the plague and who lived to see his wife and neighbors come after him from beyond the grave. Such a character should be deeply shaken and depressed as he goes through his remaining days with monotony and acceptance of a life alongside the undead.

Price, however, carries himself like someone who is physically fragile and emotionally cold. His rounded back and stiff-armed walk speak of a man afraid he might break a bone if he moves with more than a shuffle, as opposed to a barely middle-aged man with a heavy burden on his shoulders but a determination to survive. His emotional connection to the other characters in the story seems very distant as well. One could argue that this was a fault of the script, but when the audience sees him chasing the van carrying his still living daughter to the plague pit to be burned, Price is turned away from her body with little effort. He barely struggles at all, and walks away in a daze too easily for a man supposed to be a hysterical, grieving father.

At one point in the story Price's character encounters a ragged dog out in the daylight. His disappointment at learning that a wounded animal he brings home with him is infected is minimal, and in the next scene we see him burying a small bundle with a stake in it. There is little remorse in his posture or expression, even though he is burying the first living creature he has had contact with in three years (before he meets Ruth). Vincent Price just can't do desperation. He can emote long suffering sadness well as is evident in the scene when he visits his wife's tomb and when he is watching home movies and begins to laugh before breaking down into tears, but he just can't seem to nail down what it must be like for a character as raw, desperate and hungry for social contact as Robert Morgan.

The verdict

Sadly, this particular movie is only worthy of a two and a half star rating.

In terms of its competence as a whole, The Last Man on Earth is a solid enough science-fiction/horror movie from directors Sidney Salkow and Ubaldo Ragona, and will likely please the casual movie goer looking for a darker story. But given the material it had to work with in I Am Legend, the movie feels flat. Some films are better when you have read the novel beforehand, but this is not one of them. For those who are die hard fans of Vincent Price I would also avoid seeing this movie as it is hardly his best performance. Instead save your money for the upcoming Roger Corman film The Mask of the Red Death in June.

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge!  Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




4 Comments Leave A Comment