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[February 25, 1964] From the Sublime to the Ridiculous (Castle of Blood and The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Now that February has much of the Northern Hemisphere in the grip of winter, it's a good time to escape the cold and seek out a different kind of chill.  Head out to your local movie theater or drive-in (bring a blanket) and watch a good horror movie.  Or at least a horror movie.  Not all of them are good.

Two that I recently sat through represent the apex and the nadir of the genre.  Well, that's a bit of exaggeration.  The good one isn't that good.  It's hardly in the same class as, say, last year's The Haunting, which is a modern classic.  But it's worth watching, so let's take a look.

Castle of Blood: Barbara Steele and the Italian Gothic Horror Film

The history of Italian fright films of the modern era begins with I Vampiri (1957).  It was not until the 1960 release of La maschera del demonio, known in the English-speaking world as Black Sunday, however, that anyone sat up and took notice.  The international success of this gruesome shocker launched the careers of director Mario Bava and star Barbara Steele.

Steele is a British actress of unusual beauty.  Her striking features can suggest innocence or evil.


Innocence


Evil!

After Black Sunday, Steele went on to haunt audiences in Roger Corman's Pit and the Pendulum.  She then returned to Italy, specializing in scary movies.  (But not always.  You may have caught her in Frederico Fellini's 8½.) These include The Horrible Dr. Hichcock and The Ghost.  Her latest terrifying feature is Castle of Blood.

Known in its native land as Danza Macabra, the film begins with an English journalist interviewing Edgar Allan Poe in a tavern.  (By the way, the ghastly anecdote our fictional Poe relates here is clearly based on his 1835 short story, Berenice.) The skeptical reporter denies that Poe's accounts are real.  An aristocrat bets that the journalist cannot spend a full night in his ancestral home on All Souls' Day.  The journalist accepts the wager, and the terror begins.


Poe tells his story

At first, things don't seem too bad.  Barbara Steele shows up as the aristocrat's lovely sister, and the two quickly become lovers.  Another woman living in the castle tries to come between them.  A man of science is also present.  He explains some of the weird things that happen, but they remain mysterious.  The journalist meets his fate in an ironic ending.


The hero and his new girlfriend


A particularly spooky scene

Although slow at times, the film is eerie and compelling.  The black-and-white cinematography is moody and atmospheric.

Four stars.

The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies: The Weird World of Z Movies


Sometimes considered the ultimate example of the Z movie

The term Z movie has recently come into use, referring to films, generally of poor quality, with extremely low budgets.  Many of these are labors of love, made independently outside the usual Hollywood system.  A lot of them are science fiction and horror movies.  Examples abound, from Robot Monster (1953) to Teenagers from Outer Space (1959), previously reviewed by our host.

A relatively new name in this dubious field is Ray Dennis Steckler.  A couple of years ago, he directed Wild Guitar, one of a handful of films that Arch Hall Sr. produced as vehicles for his son, Arch Hall Jr.  Now Steckler has made a movie for himself, going so far as to star in it under the outrageous pseudonym Cash Flagg.


And he's married to second-billed Carolyn Brandt

So what do we get if we dare to watch this movie?  Well, not much.


Our director, producer, and star

Steckler (or Flagg) shows up at a carnival with some other folks.  He gets mixed up with a fortune teller who hypnotizes him and sends him out to kill people. 


"I see that you will all soon star in a very bad movie."

That's about it, although we do get some guys near the end of the film with faces scarred by acid.  I suppose these are the title characters.


"Hi.  I'm an incredibly strange creature . . . Oh, you know the rest."

We also get lots of dance sequences, starring Carolyn Brandt.


A little something for the leg men in the audience

Credit where credit is due.  The color cinematography is actually pretty good.  Somehow this makes the movie's failings stand out even more.  I'd suggest bringing a group of friends with you to make fun of it.

One star.

Until next time, see you at the movies!


Coming soon!

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Movies

[February 15, 1964] Flaws in the seventh facet (Seven Days in May)

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by Janice L. Newman

Seven Days in May premiered three nights ago!  My husband and I made sure to get to the theater early, as we wanted to claim good seats for this star-studded and much anticipated political drama.  Given the amount of talent assembled both in front of and behind the camera, there was no way the film would be a disaster.  At the same time, Seven Days in May wasn’t quite an unmitigated success.  The film is a flawed jewel, the minor imperfections standing out all the more so against the clarity and glitter of an otherwise perfect gem.

The Plot

The movie opens with a fight between protestors, some of whom support the US President and others who oppose him.  The scene is filled with powerful imagery, but doesn’t do much more than set the tone for the story.  I suspect the director chose to start the movie this way to give stragglers a chance to find a seat without missing any of the meat of the story.

Once the riot is over, we’re introduced to the President himself, “Jordan Lyman,” played by Fredric March (you may remember him from his performance in Inherit the Wind as Matthew Harrison Brady).  We quickly learn that the President has signed a disarmament treaty with the Russians, and this has angered the general populace.  The newspaper headlines blare the fact that only 29% of the public support him.  It’s hard to imagine any US President having such a low popularity rating as that outside of an event like the Great Depression, especially one who supports peace.  But the public are convinced that the Commies are only playing along and will stab us in the back at the earliest opportunity.

One of the many people who oppose the President’s actions is US Air Force General James Mattoon Scott, played by Burt Lancaster.  We are introduced to him as he makes a compelling case before Congress, insisting that trusting the Russians, who have ‘broken every single treaty’, will spell the doom of the United States.  Looking on as he makes his case in a beautifully framed shot is the handsome Kirk Douglas as USMC Colonel Martin “Jiggs” Casey.

From there the story follows Jiggs, who encounters a number of strange things that don’t seem to fit together: a newly constructed base he’s sure he’s never heard of, a top secret betting pool whose members comprise most of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, a Senator who seems to know more about upcoming military maneuvers than he should, and other odds and ends that add up to a deeply troubling picture.  Jiggs must choose whether to turn a blind eye or take his suspicions to the President despite the circumstantial nature of his evidence.  If he’s wrong, his career will certainly be ruined.  But if he’s right, the scale of the plot and its ultimate target are staggering: it’s no less than a plan to kidnap the President and take over the United States government.  In the end, Jiggs follows his conscience, and the consequences of his choice drive the rest of the movie.

Unapologetically Liberal

Though based on the 1962 novel by Charles W. Bailey II and Fletcher Knebel, the screenplay is by Rod Serling – and it shows.  Mr. Serling’s work on Twilight Zone has earned him much acclaim (with good reason) but he’s never been shy about stuffing his character’s mouths with his own political views.  Since I tend to share Serling's views, I’m more inclined to be impatient with his lack of subtlety than enraged by his wrongheadedness.  Your own reaction may vary, of course.

The politics of the film are unapologetically liberal, with the villains having no hesitation in castigating ‘bleeding-hearts’ and ‘intellectuals’.  At the same time, the villains are not portrayed cartoonishly, which I appreciated.  Scott in particular is charismatic and convincing.  You can understand why the public likes him and trusts him.  He is passionate and sincere in his belief that what he is doing is both right and necessary.

Of course we, the enlightened audience, know that for all his sincerity he is wrong.  Continuing to build a larger and larger stockpile of nuclear weapons, we are told, can lead to only one outcome: the eventual destruction of the human race.  I don’t disagree with this attitude, but it did come across as a rather glib – as one might expect of Serling.

Nevertheless, for the most part, Serling's screenplay works – in no small part thanks to the excellence of the actors performing it. Douglas adds a subtlety to his role that transcends his (mostly good) lines. March's tears at the death of a good friend are all too believable. And the work of co-stars Balsam and Edmond O'Brien, President Lyman's right and left hand men, are excellent in outsized proportion to their screen time.

Fantastic Framing and Marvelous Music

The best part of the movie was the cinematography.  The indoor shots are thoughtfully framed, with one particularly memorable discussion with Scott presented against a background of model missiles and Jiggs with the American flag behind him.  When written out like that it sounds, like the rest of the movie, as though it might be a bit too ‘on point,’ but it was so beautifully done that I couldn’t help but appreciate it.  In addition to this we are treated with some impressive outdoor shots, from the desert surrounding the secret base, to a character being ferried to an aircraft carrier across the ocean, to scenes on the aircraft carrier itself.

There are also convincing notes that place the movie in the future: two-way video phones, for example, and prominently placed digital time and date displays.

The music was also extremely good, with lots of driving military march drums contrasting sharply with discordant notes.  There was no music during most of the talking scenes, but the scoring during action scenes created an unsettling, nervous atmosphere that was highly effective.

Out of Joint

My husband noted that the story felt somewhat disjointed, and I agreed.  The point of view jumps around from character to character as the plot dictates.  Personally, I almost would have preferred seeing everything through Kirk Douglas’s eyes.

The most jarring note was the inclusion of Ava Gardner’s character, Scott’s former mistress, Eleanor Holbrook.  I’m not sure why she was even there, as in the end her performance, as good as it is, doesn’t add much to the story.  There’s a bit of sex appeal and a bit of tragedy to her, but overall her role is to give Jiggs some potentially incriminating evidence that he hesitates to use, thus reminding us that he is a ‘good guy’. 

Of course, Eleanor is a woman in a man’s world, with men filling every important position in government, the military, the press, and pretty much everything else.  Since the story is set only ten years in the future, I suppose that view of the world isn’t unrealistic.  I can’t help but hope, though, that we’ll eventually see women in roles other than “spurned lover” and “oversexed waitress” in stories about the future, if not in the future itself.  At the very least, it would be nice to see a few more movies where women speak to each other.

But in the end, Two Hours Well-Spent

Despite its flaws, Seven Days in May is still two hours well-spent.  What the movie does well, it does masterfully.  The acting is great, especially Douglas, whose understated performance is more convincing than either of the pontificating leads.  The cinematography is top-notch, and the music is compelling.  If it weren’t for Serling’s insistence on driving his points home with a sledgehammer and the disjointed feel caused in part by the need for the story to jump from character to character, I would have given them film five stars without question.  Parts of the movie deserve that rating all on their own.  It’s worth a watch.

Four stars.




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Book, Magazine, Movies

[February 1, 1964] The Vast Wasteland (February 1964 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Every Silver Lining has a Cloud

What an exciting month January was!  From President Johnson's declaration of war on poverty to the launching of the Ranger 6 moon mission, not to mention this week's premiere of the amazing satire/horror, Dr. Strangelove, this year is shaping up to be a good one.

But while real life and the silver screen may offer superlative pleasures, this month's written sf , at least on this side of the Pond, has been rather lackluster.  This month's Analog is no exception.  In fact, it rests near the bottom of the pack.  That said, it's not a complete loss — so long as you know what you're getting into:

The Issue at Hand

Secondary Meterorites (Part 2 of 2), by Ralph A. Hall, M.D.

Dr. Hall returns to tell us more about the hypothesis that the majority of meteors that hit our planet are actually pieces of other planets knocked off when they were hit by meteorites.  It is, if anything, less comprehensible than the last article.  And that's coming from a fellow who studied astrophysics in college and reads journal articles for fun.

One star.

The Permanent Implosion, by Dean McLaughlin

When a bunch of Colorado eggheads blow a hole in the fabric of the universe, all of Earth's air starts whistling to nowhere like water draining from a bathtub.  Mick Candido, an oilman with a talent for capping blown and burning wells, is called in to plug the hole.

This is a smartly written tale whose obvious solution is obscured by deft authorial misdirection.  It's not a story for the ages, but it's solid Analog fare.  Three stars.

Crackpots, Inc., by Richard L. Davis

On the other hand, Crackpots is uniquely Analog fare.  A rural hayseed has purportedly invented perpetual motion, but his feat cannot be duplicated by scientists.  Turns out, it's because the machine is powered by the hick's psychic energies.  The only way this piece could have been more to Campbell's taste is if it included dowsing.

One star.

Dune World (Part 3 of 3), by Frank Herbert

I'm going to spare some inches for this one since I know this has been a popular serial.  In the far future, humanity has spread out among the stars.  Civilization is a strange mix of the advanced and the primitive. There are faster-than-light ships, electro-magnetic shields, and laser guns, On the other hand, computers are outlawed, with savant "Mentats" filling the role.  Society runs along feudal lines, its politics Machiavellian to the extreme.  To wit:

Baron Harkonnen, lord of the desert planet, Arrakis, is ordered by the Padishah Emperor to give his fief to Duke Leto Atreides.  On the face of things, this is a boon.  Arrakis is the only source of the anti-geriatic spice melange, control of which makes one very rich.  However, the transfer is a baited trap.  Not only is a legion of the Emperor's troops poised to seize the fief should Leto stumble, but one of Leto's lieutenants is a traitor in the pay of Harkonnen.

Added to the mix: Leto's mistress, Lady Jessica, member of the female-only Bene Gesserit order, who has keen perception and the ability to control others with her voice.  Her son, Paul, who may be the satisfaction of a prophecy that predicts a male possessor of Bene Gesserit powers.  The "Fremen" natives of Arrakis appear to be primitives yet there is evidence that suggests they possess a great technology.  Finally, we have Kynes, an Imperial surveyor who seems to know the secrets of Arrakis but refuses to play his hand openly.

Not much happens in Dune World.  There are lots of conversations where people reveal the history of Arrakis.  There is an attempt on Paul's life.  Leto saves some spice miners from a sandworm.  There is a feast in the Atreides stronghold with more exposition.  The traitor's plan comes to fruition, with the Duke put in mortal peril and his family forced into exile.  There is no real resolution; I suspect Herbert plans a sequel.

Author Herbert has an intricate grand plan, and he's certainly not stinted on world building.  The various cultures are richly detailed.  There is a refreshing abundance of foreign language and concepts, particularly from Arabic.  What keeps Dune World from being a masterpiece, or even especially enjoyable, is that Herbert's writing chops just aren't up to turning this byzantine mess of a plot into a story.  There are more swaths of italicized text than in the footnotes of a legal contract, and the viewpoint shifts constantly, often every other sentence.  A typical example from page 49:


"Now I know you remain loyal to my Duke," she said.  "Therefore I'm prepared to forgive your affront to me."

"Is there something to forgive? he asked.

Jessica scowled, wondering, Shall I play my trump?  Shall I tell him of the Duke's daughter I've carried within me these two weeks?  No, Leto himself doesn't know and this would only complicate his life, divert him when he must concentrate on our survival.  There is yet time to use this.

And Hawat thought: She's even beautiful when she's angry.  An extremely difficult adversary.

The traitor is revealed early on; the mystery is why he's betrayed Duke Leto.  That said, the identity of the betrayer could have been handled as a double mystery, which would have been more interesting. 

At serial's end, Paul has a soothsaying dream and learns several secrets of Arrakis and spice.  It's all very arbitrary and unsatisfying. 

Herbert has created something like a well researched but dry encyclopedia article on a fascinating topic.  I wanted to know more about Arrakis and Paul's prophecy, but getting through the (half) novel was often a slog. 

Maybe a good editor will help Herbert polish this up before its inevitable publication as a book.

Three stars for this installment and for the book as a whole.

Rx for Chaos, by Christopher Anvil

Another entry in the "Unintended Consequences of Science" department: Hangover-killing "De-tox" pills become bestsellers, but they also inhibit creativity and give rise to a fascist, anti-intellectual movement.  It's typical Analog Anvil, written with tongue firmly lodged in cheek.  It rates three stars, barely.

Names for Space Plants, by John Becker

Lots of words in these three short pages, but I've no idea what Becker is actually trying to say.  One star.

The Analytic Laboratory

Add it all up, and Analog scores a limp 2.1 stars, only beaten for badness by this month's Amazing (2 stars even).  F&SF is barely better at 2.2; Fantastic gets 2.6 but at least it's got a good Dick in it.  Galaxy's 3 stars is also, in part, thanks to its Dick story.  The only unalloyed triumph is the February New Worlds, which garnered 3.6 stars.

Women made up just two of the 38 authors who wrote fiction for magazines this month. 

As for books, again, it was the British stuff that stood out.  Brian Aldiss' new fix-up got four stars, per Jason Sacks, whereas neither this month's Ace Double nor Laurence Janifer's second effort stunned.

Next month is my birthday month, though, and I'm certain the writers in my favorite genre wouldn't let me down on my 39th birthday.

Right?

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Movies

[January 30, 1964] Satire or Documentary?  (Stanley Kubrik's Dr. Strangelove)

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by Rosemary Benton

The Thin Line between Comedy and Terror

The newest movie by maverick filmmaker Stanley Kubrick, known for Spartacus (1960) and Lolita (1962), has hit theaters to the delight of film critics and the apprehensive joy of moviegoers. Behold the masterpiece which is Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb and be amazed. Never before has a movie been so utterly terrifying, and yet so funny. It was a film that had the audience sitting on the edge of their seats, giddily laughing with nervous energy. For a film with so few action sequences, the story is absolutely riveting. I was completely captivated, and based on the reactions I witnessed from my fellow movie goers they too felt the simultaneous deep unease and dark humor just as intensely.

The plot of Dr. Strangelove is loosely based on the 1958 thriller novel by Peter George, Red Alert. Both the book and the film describe a situation that could be considered as far from comical as possible: the initiation of a nuclear attack on the Soviets by a rogue United States Air Force general. In Kubrick's film the logic of this loose cannon, named Brigadier General Jack D. Ripper (played by Sterling Hayden), is that Communists have made the “bodily fluids" of Americans impure by fluoridation. By his reasoning this has already counted as a preemptive strike: fluoridation has rendered politicians including President Merkin Muffley (played by Peter Sellers), impotent and incapable of proper leadership.

Meanwhile in the War Room of the Pentagon the situation continues to escalate as President Muffley consults with his military counsel General Buck Turgidson (played by George C. Scott), and the Soviet Ambassador Alexei de Sadeski (played by Peter Bull). Eventually it is concluded that the Soviet Premier, Dimitri Kissov, must be informed of the situation and given the deployed bomber squadron's flight path. The situation couldn't be more dire — until the Ambassador then imparts to the room that the Premier has just made him aware of a doomsday device that has been built in secret and was to be unveiled within the week. If the American bombs are not stopped in time, a network of interlinked Soviet bombs enhanced with “cobalt-thorium G" will trigger and the Earth will be shrouded in a “Doomsday shroud," killing all human and animal life. Worse yet, there is no way to deactivate the doomsday device without triggering it. A precaution that was taken to avoid human error.

After managing to secure the recall code from General Ripper all bombers but one are recalled. Due to damage to the plane's radio and fuel tanks sustained when the Soviets launched a surface-to-air missile to intercept the B-52 Stratofortress carrying the payload, the pilot and crew are unable to communicate with the American forces, nor are they able to fly back. At the order of the bomber's commander and pilot, Major T. J. "King" Kong (played by Slim Pickens), the crew decides to fly onward to a nearer target knowing that it will be a one way flight. In perhaps the most memorable scene on the film, Major Kong jumps on the back of the bomb and rides it down to a Soviet ICBM site whereupon it explodes.

Back in the War Room the attendants have begun to consider how they will survive the coming 93 years of darkness. Dr. Strangelove (also played by Peter Sellers), the wheelchair bound, ex-Nazi, nuclear war expert in the employ of President Muffley advises that a small population of several thousand should take up residence in deep mine shafts so as to repopulate the Earth. To that end there should be a 10:1 ratio of women to men. Comically, despite the reality of planning for the end of the world, General Turgidson is very concerned that the Soviets will think of the same thing and warns against a “mine shaft" gap. As the arguing and planning escalates in volume the Soviet Ambassador slips a discreet shot of the War Room with a hidden camera and slinks away. The movie ends to the dulcet serenade of “We'll Meet Again" as nuclear blasts go off one by one.

Too Close to Home

These last two decades, indeed the last three years, have brought the continued struggle between the USSR and America, between Capitalist and Communists, Democracy and Dictatorship, to the average American's door on a daily basis in the news, in magazine articles, and through social organizations such as the local Civil Defense officers conducting surveys of urban preparedness. The fear has been stoked that the international war of ideology, trade and survival could come to us civilians very literally in the form of a coordinated nuclear attack.

The Federal Civil Defense Act of 1950, initially designed to guide civilian preparedness in a series of committees from the federal level all the way down to the community level, found little traction with the general public in its day. Recently, however, given the Soviet military buildup in Cuba, the use of fallout shelters has come back into the public's eye. But science has far surpassed the weapons of over ten years ago, and one must wonder how useful the leftover pamphlets on nuclear survival from 1951 will be to the American citizen today.

In a general sense any nation's international policy making has consistently been about the division of land and wealth, with the extraction of natural resources and the mobilization of man power either resulting in economic success or failure. On top of the core responsibility of leaders to ensure their country's economic success are layers and layers of rhetoric to justify the means to this end. But only recently has that rhetoric reached a dangerous pinnacle on which both sides consider the virtual hostage taking of millions of civilian lives to be a worthy deterrent to foreign challenges that could come from halfway across the globe.

Being in a competition of military prowess has unfortunately resulted in inflammatory saber rattling in a long line of US presidents. From President Truman's 30 November, 1950 refusal to rule out the use of nuclear weapons to halt Communist advances after Chinese troops crossed the Yalu River to aid North Korea, to President Kennedy's repeated call to close the missile gap during his 1960 election campaign. Ultimately the natural escalation of “anything your bomb can do, mine can do better" has seemed to end in a standoff. Hence the development of unsettling strategic theories such as MAD (Mutually Assured Destruction). 

The Satire Bites Deep

The writing, cinematography and special effects of Dr. Strangelove are ingenious, but more than anything I have to comment that this is a profoundly dark satirical film. Not only does the plot highlight the precarious position that current world leaders and their military advisors have found themselves in since the fracturing of the Allied forces after 1945, but it highlights the very real and very frightening attitudes that have come to encompass the policy making of modern superpowers at home and abroad.

Co-writers Stanley Kubrick, Peter George and Terry Southern really understood this last point, and put it front and center within Dr. Strangelove's satire. General Turgidson's excitement at the destructive capabilities of the B-52 Stratofortress borders on buffoonish megalomania. His enthusiasm and envy when he says that he wishes the US too had a doomsday device like the one the Soviets have concocted is astounding given the situation. It is horrific that General Turgidson considers the launching of an all out attack an acceptable plan of action considering the “modest and acceptable" civilian casualties of 10-20 million lives “depending on the breaks". Most importantly, the film masterfully picks apart the lunacy of having to have a post-apocalyptic plan in the first place.

Indeed, everything about Dr. Strangelove’s indignant rebuke to the Russian ambassador feels as if it were lifted from an exchange between Herman Kahn, the RAND corporation’s renowned military strategist, and a chastened government official. “The whole point of the doomsday machine is lost, if you keep it a secret. Why didn't you tell the world, eh?!" Ambassador Sadeski replies, “It was to be announced at the Party Congress on Monday. As you know, the Premier loves surprises."

In the skillful hands of such an intrepid writing team the catalyst of the whole nuclear attack comes into question: is such a scenario so far off? Yes, Brigadier General Ripper is clearly insane to believe that Communists would plan an attack on “bodily fluids" by putting fluoride in the drinking water, but if the military personnel who hold the power to initiate a nuclear attack were unstable but methodical, would such a cascade of fail safes work against us as they did in the film? And if worse came to worst, would our leaders be able to accept the figurative and literal fallout with the same calm equanimity as the assembly in the war room did? If mine shafts would make such excellent hibernation holdouts for humanity, as Dr. Strangelove hypothesized, would the public even be made aware for fear of a mine shaft shortage?

For the answer to such questions I would highly recommend that everyone see this film, watch the evening news for a week, and come to their own conclusions. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb is an exceptionally cutting and cheeky movie, and I happily give it five stars.




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Movies

[December 25, 1963] Animating an Epic (Don Chaffey's Jason and the Argonauts)

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by Rosemary Benton

[Time is running out to get your Worldcon membership!  Register here to be able to vote for the Hugos.]

Merry Christmas, everyone!

With the United States still reeling from recent events, I feel that now more than even would be the appropriate time to reflect on the past months and be grateful for the artistic talents and accomplishments that have helped bring us joy even in dark times. To that end I would like to say thank you to authors Andre Norton, J. G. Ballard and Daniel F. Galouye for their respective works of high fantasy, speculative fiction and intense science fiction/horror over the year. In film, actors Vincent Price and Julie Harris, as well as director Ishirō Honda, brought audiences horror tales both comical and macabre.

In the spirit of appreciation for the hard working men and women who bring the world its entertainment there is also one film which has been sadly overlooked this past June which I will now heap well deserved praise upon. I am speaking, of course, of Jason and the Argonauts.

Directed by Walt Disney Productions veteran Don Chaffey, and starring the wonderful acting talent of Honor Blackman and Nancy Kovack, Jason and the Argonauts is a fairly faithful adaptation of the Greek hero Jason's quest to acquire the mythical Golden Fleece and rightfully ascend to the throne of Thessaly. Through the artistic majesty of stop-motion animation and the craftiness of experienced low-budget filmmaking, Jason's eye-popping adventures through the ancient Greek world of monsters, prophecy, magic and gods come to life like they never have before. 

On the eve of the sacking of Thessaly, the antagonist Pelias (played by Douglas Wilmer) asks a prophet if Zeus has willed his victory against King Aristo. The prophet confirms that he will indeed be victorious, but as Pelias is about to lay down his sword to show faith in the prediction and his dedication to Zeus, the prophet informs him that King Aristo is not without heirs to the throne. Pelias snatches back his sword and declares that he will kill all of the royal family. In doing so not only does he falter in his faith to the gods, but goes too far when he hunts down and murders Aristo's daughter Briseis as she is praying for protection from the goddess, Hera (played by Honor Blackman). Due to his overzealousness, Pelias is told by Hera, disguised as the temple's priestess, that the infant Jason has been taken into hiding and will one day return to kill him.

The scene then cuts to Olympus where Zeus (played by Niial MacGinnis) is watching the battle through a fountain. Hera returns to bargain with Zeus for her right to seek restitutions against Pelias for the defamation of her temple. Zeus acquiesces, but only permits Hera to directly aid Jason five times for the five times that Briseis called out to Hera by name. Thus the stage is set for the inevitable reunion 20 years later between King Pelias of Thessaly and the vengeful, adult Jason (played by Todd Armstrong).

Through perseverance in daring battles against a giant living statue, harpies, a hydra and undead soldiers, along with luck granted by his heavenly protector, Jason and his crew aboard the ship Argo ultimately claim ownership of a legendary and powerful artifact: the Golden Fleece. With this in hand, he intends to return home and show that it is his divine right to rule Thessaly.

That, however, is a story for another time. The movie ends before Jason is able to retake the kingship from Pelias. After defeating seven skeleton warriors sown by King Aeëtes of Colchis (played by Jack Gwillim) using the teeth of the defeated hydra, the remaining Argonauts and the sorceress Medea set out to sea once more. The film concludes with Zeus and Hera determining that their meddling in the mortal lives of their champions is not yet over and that they may yet have further plans for Jason. 

Despite an ending that just begs for a sequel in order to finish off Jason's initial quest to kill Pelias, the film as a whole is very, very well executed. Jason and the Argonauts is a masterpiece in special effects, atmospheric musical scoring, and well paced storytelling (in spite of the choice to not conclude the film back in Thessaly). A review from Variety magazine rightfully expresses awe at the resourcefulness of Don Chaffey, making note of the fact that not only did the film showcase the pinnacle of stop-motion animator Ray Harryhausen's craft, but managed to stretch its meager 3 million dollar budget to include a life size replica of the Argo!

Not only is Jason and the Argonauts a prized piece of art from Morningside Productions and Columbia Pictures, but it also stands as a proud member of a newly emerging genre within science-fiction and fantasy stories. More accurately, it is a tour de force within the hotly debated and evolving subgenre of "sword and sorcery" (as defined within the magazine Amra by Fritz Leiber and Michael Moorcock). What seems to be paramount to this subgenre includes the following:

World building elements of medieval and/or ancient technology enhanced with paranormal and borderline science-fiction elements.

Jason and the Argonauts has those aplenty from talking statues, gods who can teleport or grow at will, and golden ram's wool that can revive the dead. The power behind such miracles is only loosely defined as "the will of the gods", but there is a quasi-scientific ritual or pattern that brings these miracles to pass. IE to speak with Hera and receive her advice Jason must talk to the figurehead of the Argo, or to revive someone with the Golden Fleece the pelt must first be placed on the subject and then prayed over. 

and,

Developed substantial characters whose vendettas move the plot forward one personal battle at a time.

Consider the plight of Jason, rightful heir to the throne of Thessaly, and even the minor character King Phineus who was once blessed by the gods but is now cursed due to hubris. Rather than focusing on merely the politics of governance and other widespread or far reaching changes to the world, the story of Jason and the Argonauts is wrapped up entirely in the mission of only a few people. It is epic, but surprisingly small and human in a way. The entire human race isn't learning the same lessons as Jason by partaking in the quest for the Fleece with him, but we do learn as an audience when listen to the retelling of his story.

When held up against other "sword and sorcery" titled such as Robert E. Howard's Conan the Barbarian series, C. L. Moore's Black God's Kiss and to an extent Andre Norton's Witch World, Jason and the Argonauts seems right at home. It will be interesting to see how the addition of this highly entertaining and memorable movie evolves the genre to which it belongs. In terms of the creative team behind the film, I find it hard to think of how the special effects techniques will continue to improve after reaching such perfection, but I have faith in Ray Harryhausen and hope that he can continue to find funding and future feature length partnerships in the film industry.

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[September 21, 1963] Old Horror and Modern Women (Robert Wise's The Haunting)

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by Rosemary Benton

When I read that there was to be a film adaptation of Shirley Jackson's 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House I was over the moon. In this time of character driven thrillers blasting onto the silver screen thanks to Alfred Hitchcock and Orson Welles, I was excited yet apprehensive to have one of my favorite author's books translated into a film script. Upon learning that the talent of Robert Wise, director of The Day the Earth Stood Still and West Side Story, was going to be attached to the project I felt I could rest easy. Now that I have seen the end result I confidently predict that this movie will be remembered for the horror genre treasure that it is! Simply put, Robert Wise's The Haunting pays homage to its predecessors of gothic horror, yet breaks new ground in what has been an increasingly campy genre.

Like many horror movies before it, The Haunting sticks with the tried and true premise of a group of persons trying to maintain their grip on reality as they weather several nights in an allegedly cursed manor. Ultimately one of them snaps, but whether or not it was a mental breakdown due to desperation or supernatural forces remains the crux of the mystery. In the case of The Haunting, anthropologist Dr. John Markway leads a group of volunteers through an experiment to instigate supernatural events within the old Hill House estate for the sake of scientific discovery. They attempt to endure the terror of ghosts hauntings, cryptic messages scrawled on the walls, and subtle poltergeist events. Some more successfully than others.

If Robert Wise had left The Haunting with just these bare essentials the whole experience would have been simply average. Thankfully he and the screenplay adaptor, Nelson Gidding, did not settle for something so mundane.

Everything about The Haunting speaks to the clash of modernity versus old beliefs. All aspects of the story incorporate this battle in some way. Perhaps most blatantly we have Luke Sanderson (Russ Tamblyn), the college-boy heir to Hill House who is determined not to be put off by the house's colorful past. Stubbornly flippant and skeptical, we see that Luke is still deeply unnerved by the progressively frightening hauntings, yet unwilling to abandon the hope of turning the house into financial profit.

Richard Johnson's character Dr. John Markway holds the role of leader within the small group staying at Hill House. In speaking with Eleanor "Nell" Lance (Julie Harris) he admits that he rebelled against the idea of becoming "a practical man" like his lawyer father, instead choosing to study anthropology in combination with his long held interest in ghosts. It is his hope to further his understanding of spiritual powers by finding a logic to hauntings – to put a scientific understanding of spirituality in line with human evolution both past and future. Dr. Markway never lets go of his belief that scientific theory can be applied to Hill House, even at the end. But he does come away from the experience with a healthier respect for the forces he is toying with.

And then there is Claire Bloom's character Theodora aka "Theo". "Theo" is an enigma of a person, both guarded yet warm, and possessing either a mastery of cold reading or powerful psychic abilities. She fills the group's role of the femme fatale, and by all genre traditions should be the corrupting influence of the party who leads the men astray with her fashionable beauty and strong will. Yet Theo is not given a romantic role with either Luke or Dr. Markway. Indeed, she seems indifferent to them in an aloof, but not snide, way. Her sexuality is nonexistent, and other than regularly embracing and comforting Eleanor (who enthusiastically returns the gestures and seeks out Theo on her own at all hours of the day and night) she does not physically interact with any other character. It is also revealed that she is an independent, insightful woman who lives in her own apartment and does not have a boyfriend.

Theo is well aware of her disquieting insightfulness. Though she presents herself as confident, even indifferent, she is sensitive to how the others perceive her. She is especially hurt when Eleanor tells her that she is a "mistake of nature". Although it is implied that this could simply refer to her psychic abilities, the comradery and tension that exists in their friendship especially with regard to Eleanor’s growing friendliness toward Dr. Markway, would lead the audience to make other conclusions. Yet she continues to try to help Eleanor from hurting herself. As an implied lesbian character she is refreshingly not predatory nor joyfully cruel. She is a modern woman of many layers, and a very different queer character from other popular cultural representations that are circulating via pulp novels, comics, television and movies.

Which brings me to Eleanor Lance. Like everyone else she is a mess of mixed messages, although her story is particularly heartbreaking. Unlike the independent and powerful Theo, Nell is a frightening portrayal of what subjugation under the traditional roles of a woman can do to a person. Emotionally fragile due to a lifetime of societal isolation by her controlling mother and judgmental sister, Julie Harris' fascinatingly fills both the roles of the spinster and the romantic lead. After her mother passes and she no longer needs to serve as her caretaker, Nell is clearly left without a purpose and resented for it. She's so desperate for a shred of independence that she steals the family car knowing full well that it will mean she is no longer welcome at her sister's house. She is so starved for human connection that she simpers right up to the strangers she meets at Hill House, even though her deep rooted insecurity causes her to constantly question their dedication to looking out for her.

Nell's desire for deeper affection and understanding causes her to fall in love with the bright future Dr. Markway represents. But when she finds out he is married and is determined to "save her" by sending her away from Hill House, her mental breakdown becomes complete. If she can't find love with people, then she reasons her destiny must be with the house – to be there for it to love, to need, and to keep close. All of this culminates in the evil of the house claiming her for itself and adding her to the many tragedies it has already collected. Perhaps most heartbreaking of all is the audience's understanding that Nell never really had a chance in the first place, and will only be truly remembered as more than a passing thought by her friend Theo.

From a film theory perspective The Haunting is a daring, modern reinvention of the classic gothic thrillers which propelled Universal Studios to horror stardom in the 20s-40s, and Hammer Film Productions in the 50s. The film features a cast of classic horror film archetypes: a sheltered young woman whose romance we follow through the film, a femme fatale, a dapper and worldly man of reason, and a snide fool with more money than sense.

The set of the film is even faithful to the tastes of earlier horror films complete with a brooding Neo Gothic mansion decorated in opulent Rococo fit for any villainous monster or malevolent spirit. Even the story setup has resonances of earlier horror stories. In particular I would point to the paranormal investigation story thread that leads our cast of eclectic persons to gather at Hill House. We see a similar beginning in William Castle's film House on Haunted Hill (1959) and Roger Corman's House of Usher (1960), both of which likewise feature the examination of a cursed property and the doomed people within it.

But in this cornucopia of tributes to the haunted house subgenre and gothic horror in general, there is a subversiveness that is absolutely thrilling. The Haunting restlessly vibrates with a need to break away from the obvious tricks of the genre to which it belongs and create something new, and I believe that by the end of the film it does just that. Unfortunately, it seems that initial reception of the film is not wholeheartedly in agreement with me.

So far The Haunting has been received with subdued enthusiasm. Bosley Crowther of The New York Times, bemoaned the fact that the atmospheric, antique setting and chilling near-misses of Julie Harris barely kept the film afloat. Crowther concluded that the The Haunting, "makes more goose pimples than sense", and doesn't work to its gothic strengths by falling back on more classic horror moments. 1 Crowther, Bosley. "The Screen: An Old-Fashioned Chiller: Julie Harris and Claire Bloom in 'Haunting'." The New York Times [New York] 19 Sep.1963: Print.    

What seems to be the most obvious missed point about such criticism is that The Haunting is not a period piece, and that a gothic setting does not come with an obligation to conform to the now cliché horror cinematography/story structure/character arcs of other haunted house stories. And really, how would doing so play better for the audience? Yes, it would give them something more familiar, but in horror unpredictability makes for a far more memorable experience. I award five stars to this atmospheric and challenging film.

[September 21, 1963] Old Horror and Modern Women (Robert Wise's The Haunting)

1963, horror, film, Rosemary Benton, Robert Wise, haunted house, The Haunting, The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson
   

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[September 19, 1963] Out of Sight (The Man with the X-Ray Eyes)

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by Lorelei Marcus

When a new science fiction movie comes out for me to review, my father usually proposes it as, “There's a new movie to watch.” This means I go in blind with nothing but the title and a few actors' names to fill me in on what to expect. What I hope for is a movie so horrendously bad I can laugh my way through and then write an easy article with a comedic spin about how terrible it was. What I often get is a mediocre movie that leaves me feeling like I could’ve spent my time in better ways, but gives me easy enough content to fill my articles with.

However, once in a while I get a very good movie that makes me think and is enjoyable all the way through. In this case our diamond in the rough is The Man With the X-Ray Eyes, a movie so good that, as I sat down I was left at a loss for words. See, I was ecstatic to have witnessed such a great movie, but that also meant I was going to have to write a great article to go with it. A movie with this complex a story is not an easy beast to tackle, but that won’t stop me from trying!

Our movie follows Dr. Xavier as he develops (and like any good doctor, tests on himself) a serum that will allow him to enhance his eyesight. At first the serum seems to have simple x-ray effects, removing clothes, looking through walls, etc., but that's only the beginning. He uses his new-found powers to operate on a little girl, saving her life. However, the serum is also potentially dangerous; in one scene, he tests the serum on a monkey (a scene that caused both me and my dad to shout ‘Konga!’), and the animal dies immediately after taking a large dose.

I won't say any more because frankly, this movie threw me and my father for a loop with how simply unpredictable it was! We were expecting the classic plot of “Man gets power that eventually drives him crazy and turns him into a monster,” but this movie is anything but. Nearly every moment had us guessing what would happen next. The story was truly something new and refreshing that took the cliché of x-ray vision down a new intriguing path.

This movie is especially impressive considering the budget wasn't super large. Like Panic! In Year Zero (Another movie starring Ray Milland) it made up for what it lacked in effects with provocative storytelling instead. That’s not to say the special effects were bad, though I did find it tiring when they kept showing the “x-ray vision” — basically a glorified kaleidoscope filter. The most effective effect, I'd say, was when we got to see a room of people doing the twist — naked! It was the one time it truly felt like we were seeing the world through x-ray vision.

The linchpin that made this movie so great was definitely the characters and the actors portraying them. Ray Milland gave an excellent performance, as always, and played a convincing balance of under stress but not quite crazy. Don Rickles effectively played a corrupt circus worker (especially interesting considering he’s known for his Vegas Comedy act).

Finally, Diana Van der Vlis plays Doctor Diane Fairfax, one of the best characters in the movie. It was incredibly refreshing to see a strong , intelligent woman played as something much more than a simple love interest, in fact, she’s Xavier’s boss! Doctor Fairfax was a complex character who was critical to the story and very enjoyable to watch: I hope other movies feature similar characters.

In sum, this movie has a deep and compelling plot, potent special effects, and fantastic acting. It was a roller coaster of an experience, keeping me and my dad on the edges of our seats the entire time. A solid film, deserving of four out of five stars. I would recommend you watch this and try to predict the end. I'd love to hear responses of how far off your predictions get!

This is the Young Traveler, signing off.




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[September 15, 1963] The Silent Star: A cinematic extravaganza from beyond the Iron Curtain

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by Cora Buhlert

In my last article, I gave an overview of science fiction novels from beyond the Iron Curtain, including the works of Polish author Stanislaw Lem. Today I will take a look at a recent East German/Polish movie based on one of Lem's novels.

It will probably surprise you that Eastern Europe has a tradition of fantastic cinema, particularly stunning fairy tale movies that can wow even Western audiences. In fact, the state-owned East German DEFA studios has produced lots of live action fairy tale movies and stop motion puppet films since 1946.

Eventually, the DEFA decided to use the technical expertise gained from making fairy tale movies and apply it to science fiction. In 1957, director Kurt Maetzig announced that he planned to adapt Stanislaw Lem's novel Astronauci (Astronauts), published as Planet des Todes (Planet of Death) in German. Maetzig even hired Lem to write an early draft of the script.

Kurt Maetzig is not a natural choice for East Germany's first science fiction movie, since he is mostly known for realist fare and even outright propaganda films. Though the fact that Maetzig is a staunch Communist helped him overcome the reservations of DEFA political director Herbert Volkmann, who doesn’t like science fiction, since it does not advance the Communist project and who shot down eleven script drafts as well as Maetzig’s plan to hire West European stars.

Slated for 1958, the film, now called Der schweigende Stern (The Silent Star), finally premiered in February 1960. Stanislaw Lem reportedly did not like the movie at all. Nonetheless, it became a success and also played in West Germany under the title Raumschiff Venus Antwortet Nicht (Spaceship Venus does not reply).

The Silent Star begins in the not so far off future of 1970, unlike the novel, which is set in the somewhat further off future of 2003. During excavation work, a mysterious coil with a recording in an unknown language is found. Scientists realise that the message originates on Venus and came to Earth when a spaceship crashed in the Tunguska region in Siberia in 1908.

Once humanity is aware of a civilisation on Venus, they try to establish communication. However, Venus does not reply. Therefore, it is decided to send a spaceship. Luckily, the Soviet Union just happens to have one and kindly donates it to an international Venus mission. This spaceship, the Kosmokrator, must be the prettiest rocket ship ever seen on screen. It looks as if a Hugo Award sprouted three baby Hugos.

The multinational crew consists of Russian astronomer Professor Arsenyew (Michail N. Postnikow), Polish engineer Soltyk (Ignacy Machowski) and his robot Omega, German pilot Raimund Brinkmann (Günther Simon), Indian mathematician Professor Sikarna (Kurt Rackelmann), Chinese linguist and biologist Dr. Chen Yu (Hua-Ta Tang), African communications technician Talua (Julius Ongewe) and the only woman on board, Japanese doctor Sumiko Ogimura (Yoko Tani).

The Kosmokrator crew even includes an American, nuclear physicist Professor Harringway Hawling (Oldrich Lukes), who joins the mission against the wishes of a group of cartoonish American capitalists. The only American willing to support Hawling is his mentor Professor Weimann (Eduard von Winterstein), who hoped to harness nuclear power, but was forced to build nuclear weapons instead. Weimann tells the assembled cartoon capitalists, "Hiroshima was your adventure. His adventure is the mission to Venus."

This is not the only mention of Hiroshima in the movie. Sumiko lost her mother in Hiroshima and was rendered infertile due to radiation exposure, which causes her a lot of angst and also torpedoes her budding romance with Brinkmann, who thinks that she shouldn't be aboard the ship because a woman's place is to bear children. Meanwhile, the fact that the Soviet Union has nuclear weapons and that the People's Republic of China is working on them is not mentioned at all. Apparently, nuclear weapons are only bad when in the hands of Americans.

These propaganda bits are eyerollingly blunt, but the Kosmokrator's multinational crew offers a positive vision of a future where the world's powers are no longer rivals in the space race (cartoon capitalists notwithstanding) but work together. Furthermore, the Kosmokrator's crew includes members from the emerging nations of Asia and Africa, which is a big step forward compared to the all-male, all-white and all-American crew seen in Forbidden Planet. I wonder when we will see Russian, Japanese or African astronauts aboard western spaceships, whether in fiction or reality.  

A crew of scientists, every single one of them the very best in their respective fields, seems like a good idea in theory, but the characters remain bland and I had to dig up my program book to recall their names.

Arsenyew and Brinkmann are both square-jawed and heroic to the point of caricature. The balding engineer Soltyk is memorable because he doesn't fit the image of a heroic astronaut. Sikarna and Hawling are serious scientists. Chen Yu and Talua are given little to do until the end. Sumiko, the only female character of note in the film, mainly exists to angst about her infertility. Even the robot,Omega,is dull.

Once the mission gets underway, the Kosmokrator crew faces the usual perils of space travel such as a meteorite shower and a risky repair in space. They also manage to decipher the message and realise that the Venusians had planned to nuke Earth from orbit in 1908, when their ship crashed. The crew withholds this crucial information from the authorities to avoid causing a panic. They also decide to continue their mission to see if the Venusians have learned the error of their warlike ways.

When the Kosmokrator reaches Venus, the crew still cannot contact anybody and their sensors cannot penetrate the dense cloud cover. Brinkmann and the robot scout ahead, but lose contact with the ship and so the Kosmokrator lands after all.

The crew finds a bizarre Venusian landscape, including a radioactive "glass forest", a glowing sphere and a cave full of metallic spiders, which they initially mistake for lifeforms, but which turn out to be mechanical and part of a Venusian archive.

Chen Yu figures out that the radioactive forest is not biological either, but a gigantic nuclear cannon. Chen Yu and Sikarna also decipher the Venusian archive and realise that many recordings abruptly break off, as if Venus was hit by a massive catastrophe.

You'd think that these alarming discoveries would persuade the Kosmokrator crew to get the hell out of there. However, our brave astronauts continue their explorations and discover a ruined city. They also finally catch a glimpse of some Venusians in the form of humanoid blast shadows. And just in case the viewer might have forgotten, Sumiko reminds us that she saw similar blast shadows in Hiroshima.

The Venus scenes – shot in Agfacolor and Totalvision – are the highlight of the movie and can compete with anything Hollywood produces. The DEFA team managed to create a dreamlike alien landscape that is reminiscent of modern art. The radioactive forest and the ruined city are influenced by the paintings of Salvador Dalí, Joan Miró and Paul Klee. The glowing sphere is based on the geodesic dome designs of Buckminster Fuller, while the Venusian blast shadows are reminiscent of the sculptures of Alberto Giacometti.

In the ruined city, Arsenyew and Hawling come upon the targeting system for the nuclear cannon, while Brinkmann, Soltyk and Sumiko are chased up a spiralling tower by a burbling mass (portrayed by the entire annual East German production of glue, which must have screwed up the plan fulfilment of several industries), which recedes when Soltyk fires at it. At the same time, both the sphere and the targeting system activate. Uh-oh.

Though the Kosmokrator's crew consists of Earth's best and brightest, it takes them a long time to catch on to what is happening. In fact, I suspect that many viewers have figured out the mystery long before the crew does, namely that the Venusians managed to blow themselves up during their attempt to nuke Earth in 1908. However, their cannon is still functional and still aimed at Earth. And our blundering astronauts managed to reactivate it.

The rest of the movie is a race against time, as the Kosmokrator crew scrambles to deactivate the nuclear cannon and the glowing sphere which turns out to be a gravity device holding the Kosmokrator captive. And as if all that wasn't enough, the radiation also causes the robot Omega to run amok.

Chen Yu and Talua deactivate the system, but Chen Yu damages his space suit. Brinkmann takes off to rescue him, but it's too late. The gravity field created by the sphere reverses and hurls the Kosmokrator back into space. Brinkmann is lost and Chen Yu perishes, while Talua is left standing alone on a dead planet.

These heroic deaths should be a lot more affecting than they are. But the climactic scenes feel rushed, especially compared to the staid pace of the rest of the movie. The crew seems unaffected as well. Hence, Sumiko tells the dying Chen Yu that the Venusian seeds he found have sprouted, which will be a great comfort to him as he suffocates. Finally, the film cuts straight to the landing on Earth, where the surviving crewmembers sum up the moral of the story, before the movie ends with everybody holding hands.

"War will only destroy the aggressor" is a popular theme in East European science fiction and may also be found in the West. Rocketship X-M has a similar plot, but set on Mars rather than Venus. Forbidden Planet features another alien civilisation that managed to destroy itself, though by harnessing the power of the mind rather than the power of the atom. I have no idea if Lem or Maetzig have seen either movie, but the similarities are striking. Fear of nuclear war is another common theme in both East and West, which I find heartening if only because knowing that both sides share this fear makes it less likely that someone will press that button.

Spaceships with multiracial and multinational crews can be found in both Eastern and Western Europe, whether in the works of Stanislaw Lem, Eberhard del'Antonio and Carlos Rasch and West Germany's Perry Rhodan series. I wish that American science fiction would follow suit because the future should have room for everybody and not just for Americans and Russians.

American and British viewers did have a chance to watch The Silent Star, for the movie was distributed in the US and UK under the title First Spaceship to Venus, though the US/UK edit is about ten minutes shorter than the original, because the propaganda bits such as the scene with the capitalists as well as all Hiroshima references were cut.

So if you happen to come across The Silent Star a.k.a. First Spaceship to Venus in a movie theatre, should you watch it? I'd say yes, because in spite of its weaknesses, The Silent Star is an interesting science fiction movie with stunning visuals. British and American viewers lose ten minutes of propaganda dialogue, but that's not that much of a loss.

Three and a half stars.

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[August 23, 1963] Laughing Mushrooms (Ishirō Honda's Matango)

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by Rosemary Benton

August has been a good but bizarre month. Early on there were great strides made towards the curtailing worldwide nuclear testing when the United Kingdom, the Soviet Union and the United States congregated in Moscow to sign the Treaty Banning Nuclear Weapon Tests in the Atmosphere, in Outer Space and Under Water. Then, like something straight out of a western, a train heading from Glasgow to London was robbed and ₤2.6 million were stolen. And that was all within the first week of August! In short it has felt like a world tipped suddenly and momentarily on its head.

In my own world, that sense of odd juxtaposition managed to permeate my recent trip to Japan with my Aunt Mika and Uncle Ed. Knowing my interest in Japanese art, an invitation was extended to me to travel with them to Mika's home town in Hiroshima Prefecture. While there, we would sight-see and witness the opening of Sanyo Women's College, a junior women's college that my cousin would be attending.

After a six hour flight to Honolulu, another eight hour flight to Tokyo, and finally, a two hour domestic flight to the new Hiroshima airport, we were on our way to Mika's family home. Twenty-four hours beyond that the grand opening of the school had concluded and a small group of us, including my aunt, were all going into a theater for the evening to watch the new Ishirō Honda's survival horror movie Matango at the behest of the Western guests – my uncle and myself. Like the month of August, my trip was about to go from a celebration of civility and education to a chilling and eye-opening clash of film and culture.

The plot of Matango I can truthfully only retell in broad terms. With my limited understanding of Japanese, I relied on the short synopses and key dialogue that Mika and Ed were generous enough to translate for me. As it was explained to me, a group of five wealthy upper class nouveau riche and their two crew members are shipwrecked when their yacht is caught in a storm. As their dilapidated ship floats further and further off course, tempers begin to wear thin, until they come into sight of a mist shrouded tropical island.

However, they soon realize that things haven't improved for them. After consulting the logs of a beached oceanography vessel they conclude that their situation is dire. The island was previously unknown, although it was being investigated by an international team of scientists studying the effects of radiation. Strangely, members of the crew began disappearing, and while the reason is not clear, our protagonists believe that it could be traced to the abundant mushrooms that cover the humid island. Mushrooms, it is cryptically noted in the logs, that have “neurological effects.”

As time passes and they work to make the yacht sea worthy, we see tensions begin to flare. This eventually culminates in a split between the survivors. After a failed attempt to gain control of the group and force them to consume some of the fungus, two of the people are banished into the jungle. Eventually the need for food drives all but one of the men and one of the women into the depths of the jungle. Inevitably, the woman too falls to the need for food and begins eating the mushrooms. Running after her, the sole survivor finds his companion eating the fungus along with the rest of their group, all of whom are in various stages of transformation into walking piles of mushrooms. The movie concludes with the survivor admitting that he too, adrift at sea and at a breaking point devoid of all hope, succumbed to hunger and ate some of the mushrooms. He dramatically turns and we see the beginning stages of fungus enveloping his face.

Matango is, in all aspects, a well made film. Its story is well balanced in terms of pacing, and while I was not privy to the nitty gritty lines of dialogue, I was still able to tell the basic personality traits and motives for the cast of characters based nearly entirely on the body language of the actors. The special effects should also be noted for their grotesque look and very visceral texture. They not only look horrifying, but wet, painful, and as if they would possess a stomach wrenching smell. It wasn't surprising to hear the audience gasp at the first sight of a partially transformed mushroom-person, but it was telling that by the end of the movie the rest of the theater seemed to be in a state of gripped morbid fascination. I had been informed on our way to the theater that the film had nearly been banned for the special effects' close resemblance to radiation burns, but only after seeing the film myself and then witnessing the audience's reaction could I really begin to appreciate that. 

As can be expected from Ishirō Honda, the focus of Matango is not on the actual final transformation of humans into mushrooms, but the tragic fall and eventual apathy of individuals desperate to survive. The actual “horror” of this horror movie is very characteristically Japanese. By this I mean that the monster of the story, in this case the fungus, is not doing anything intentionally malicious. It simply exists and has motives for survival that are contrary to the survival of humanity. It's the monster's/fungus' very existence and ability to control and destroy humanity that is terrifying.

Other Japanese films we've seen this theme: In Godzilla the titular giant lizard was disturbed and forced out of its natural habitat by underwater hydrogen bomb testing. Rodan likewise featured a beast disturbed by nuclear testing which forced it out of its home. The “Snowman” in Half Human was a yeti-like creature defending himself against pursuing humans.

Where we see Ishirō Honda's real skill as a science fiction/horror screenwriter is his ability to take this monster-by-necessity motivation and tie it in with an even greater enemy – apathetic acceptance. In the films I mention above the protagonists eventually triumph by fighting harder and smarter than the monster. But in Matango the time spent humanizing each of the seven passengers is all the more tragic as they all succumb to an age old enemy that can't be beaten: hunger. This leads to a horror greater than the human to mushroom transformation – the calm willingness of the human characters to join the mushrooms once they have given up and stopped fighting their need for food.

As our group was walking home after the movie we were all abuzz with thoughts. The general consensus was that the movie had been very disturbing both visually and in terms of atmosphere. It wasn't the feel-good, uplifting, fun kind of Ishirō Honda film that we had been expecting, Honda, of course, being the director of the original Godzilla and the recent Godzilla vs. King Kong. Indeed it seemed that the majority of the group found it to be too dark and not what they had really been in the mood for. With other concurrent films like Bushido, Samurai Saga and Alone Across the Pacific still resonating with action, Japanese pride and intense messages of determination, seeing a film so solidly nihilistic felt off kilter. Personally I couldn't help enjoying it, being a fan of horror and science fiction, but I could definitely appreciate the hesitancy of my hosts to embrace such a film.

The rest of the trip passed too quickly. But although it was a memorable and successful trip with family, there will always be that kink in the unparalleled adventure; that event that strangely juxtaposed with the rest of my time in Japan. My “great train robbery” if you will; that very odd, fascinating, well executed but strangely timed release, Matango.




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[June 26, 1963] Double or Nothing (King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962))

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[Thirty years ago King Kong succumbed to a hail of bullets and fell to his death off the Empire State Building.  The Japanese saurian, Gojira (Godzilla), was last seen trapped in an iceberg in 1955.  Well, nothing lasts forever, especially when there is money to be made.  Ice melts, and where there's one ape on Skull Island, you can bet there's another…]


by Lorelei Marcus

If you've been keeping up with our most recent articles you'll know my family and I recently flew to Japan for a short vacation. While we were there we saw and encountered many amazing things. My father documented our adventures, which have their own article devoted to them.

If you read that article, you will notice one event that stood out in particular, mainly because it was promised its own personal review. This just so happens to be that review, our thoughts on King Kong vs Gozilla! Now I will say it took some serious convincing to even get me to the theater, but despite my digging heels and griping, I actually really had a good time watching it. The “giant monster” movies have always been a personal favorite (to make fun of, anyway), and viewing two monsters on the big screen at the same time was certainly a treat.


Pretty much what it says on the tin — King Kong vs. Godzilla

Though the epic monster fight was the main spectacle of the movie, it also managed to have a plot too. Well, sort of. The movie follows a dying Pharmaceuticals company whose executive is trying to get business by gaining traction on TV. Obviously the best way to get TV viewership is to send two of your employees to a small exotic island in search of giant monsters you can exploit. So that's just what they do, discovering King Kong in the process. An awesome fight breaks out between King Kong and a giant octopus, for some reason, and after a much too long “exotic” dance sequence from the island's “natives” King Kong drinks some special juice and falls asleep.


"I've got an amazing idea!"


"I am rethinking the wisdom of this idea…"


Not Japanese people in dark paint.  Absolutely not.  (Dig the pidgin they speak — it's English!)


"Room temperature?!  Savages."

Meanwhile on the other side of the world in the Arctic Ocean, Godzilla has awoken and already destroyed an American submarine. Japan starts panicking and evacuating, because Godzilla, of course, is headed right for them! Luckily the Pharmaceutical company honcho made the poor decision of bringing King Kong back to Japan with them, and as you may imagine, another epic fight ensues. Then the monsters split up to destroy some (utterly real, absolutely not papier mache) Japanese buildings for a bit. King Kong even carries a woman to the top of the Diet, because, of course he does. The movie climaxes with a final battle of epic proportions. Lasers, fire, lighting, big rocks! Truly engrossing. Unfortunately, the movie then abruptly ends, leaving the audience kind of confused and unsatisfied.


What really happened to the Thresher… (too soon, I know)


The subtitles say "What the…"  It's appropriate to every scene of the movie.


"Today's Godzilla report — warm, with a chance of lightning."


"Because I'm King Kong!"


Young love blossoms in Japan…

Despite the ending and the very silly story, I still very much enjoyed watching this movie. It's always a lot of fun seeing how they put together the special effects. There is no middle ground when it comes to monster movie special effects. They're either extremely convincing or extremely convincing of the fact that those buildings are doll houses. However I did find that when they had one of the monsters on open landscape it was very effective at making them look gigantic. I will also admit when I was younger the effects looked completely real, so it's really up to interpretation.


When King Kong takes the train, he really takes the train!

The fights themselves were hit or miss. At some points they were very engaging and dramatic. At others… just two people in rubber suits waving their arms around. Though I will say I was certainly entertained the whole time, even if sometimes I had to hold down my laughter to avoid disturbing the theater.


That's what we paid to see!

My favorite fight was actually the first one between King Kong and the octopus because I felt it was the most interesting. With a combination of overlaying green screens, puppets, and even some stop motion, it truly made the fight dramatic.


"Mmmm… sashimi!"

Like most Japanese productions, this movie fell into the trap of extreme over-acting. It was generally played for laughs — which it got, but probably not for the reasons originally intended. In a lot of ways this movie didn't really feel like a movie — more of an excuse to have giant monsters fight each other. The story was disjointed, the effects were varied, the acting was extreme, and the fight choreography all over the place!


"I've got an amazing idea!"


Well, it was better than the Pharmaceutical guy's idea…

Thus, as an actual movie I give King Kong vs Godzilla! 2 stars out of 5. However, if I were rating this spectacle on entertainment value alone, I would give it 4 stars. If you happen to catch a flight to Japan in the near future, I recommend you takes some time to enjoy this movie with a friend.

This is the Young Traveler, signing off.




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