Tag Archives: May 2016

50’s Sci-Fi Feature #6 – The Blob (1958)

c2399714c67c31cf8024534d98bd2d5dThe Blob (1958)
Directed by: Irvin Yeaworth
Written by: Kay Linaker, Theodore Simonson (Story by Irving H. Millgate)
Starring: Steve McQueen, Aneta Corsaut, Earl Rowe, Olin Howland, Stephen Chase

When you hear the description “characterless, personalityless ball of red slime terrorizes a small Pennsylvania town”, do you get excited for the nearly 90 minute journey that is 1958’s The Blob?  Contrary to what my disappointed sarcasm may convey, The Blob was the film I was most excited to see during our epic 50’s Sci-Fi marathon. Boy, did I set myself up for one of the bigger disappointments of my tenure as an amateur movie blogger.  Originally paired with a similarly low budget science fiction effort entitled I Married a Monster from Outer Space, The Blob eventually proved to be too successful to only serve as a drive-in B-flick.  Directed by the virtually unknown Irvin Yeaworth, who made a career out of directing and producing lower budget sci-fi fare like 4D Man and Dinosaurus!, as well as hundreds of short religious and educational films and videos, it’s a wonder how The Blob was nearly as successful and memorable as it eventually became.  More notable than its director, the film stars one of Hollywood’s greatest early action stars in Steve McQueen.  With an unestablished cast and crew, The Blob is something of an oddity when compared to the five other films we’ve had the pleasure of covering.  The script features none of the smart subtext or social commentary found in many of those previous films, and the film brings few original ideas or set pieces to the table.  So why is it that we’re still talking about the movie more than fifty years after its release?  That’s a great question, maybe somebody reading this review will be able to answer it for me, because I’m all out of ideas.  Made on a meager budget of just over $100,000, The Blob was a tremendous financial success, grossing more than $4 million at the box office. The most notable thing about the film (apart from its surprising financial success), is the fact that it helped to launch the career of future mega star Steve McQueen.  The Blob served as McQueen’s major motion picture debut, and the film’s success likely aided him in scoring bigger projects like The Magnificent Seven.  In his debut, the nearly 30-year old future star of Bullitt unconvincingly plays a teenager who tries to save the town from the slow-moving alien gloopy gloop.  Irvin Yeaworth’s classic film was remade thirty years later under the same title, taking a slightly darker crack at the story.  While 1988’s reimagining of The Blob has managed to accrue a rabid cult following, that film somehow managed to be an even bigger flop both critically and financially.  Studios have been looking at re-launching the premise for a third attempt for decades now, so it’s only a matter of time before The Blob hits the big screen once again.

The Blob begins with teenagers lovers Steve Andrews (Steve McQueen) and Jane Martin (Aneta Corsaut) doing what young people in love do best down at the ol’ lovers’ lane.  The pair are soon interrupted by a nosy meteor that crashes nearby, so they decide to chase after it.  We cut to an old man who finds the meteor before the young couple can, and discovers that it is filled with a jelly-like substance.  In the blink of an, the substance latches itself onto the man’s hand. Unable to remove it from his skin, the old man runs into the road where Steve and Jane nearly hit him.  Finding the man in a state of shock, the young couple decides to bring him to the local doctor in order to have it checked out.  Once at his office, Doctor Hallen (Stephen Chase) takes the patient in and asks Steve and Jane to go back out and find the crashed meteor.  Almost as soon as our lead characters have left the doctor’s office, the blob fully consumes the old man and goes after the doctor and his nurse.  By the time Steve and Jane make it back, it’s too late.  By now, the blob has become even greater in size and speed, and is quickly making its way through every living thing in the rural Pennsylvania town. Our two teenage (you’re still a teen at 27, right?) heroes manage to amass a small band of friends to track down the blob and stop it at any cost.  They manage to track the blob to Steve’s father’s grocery store, but are overpowered and cornered by the strange mass.  When they emerge, the two realize that the blob has made its way to the local movie theater, where hundreds of unsuspecting townspeople have no idea that the horrific and certain death is slowly creeping towards them.  Can Steve and Jane save their friends and family from the creeping terror, or will the blob of unknown origins prove to be too much for humans to stop?  Find out in 1958’s The Blob!


Steve Andrews (Steve McQueen) and Jane Martin (Aneta Corsaut) as our two lead characters in 1958’s The Blob.

If you haven’t been able to tell up to this point, I have to break the news and let you know that I didn’t get a whole lot out of The Blob.  Maybe my expectations were too high going into the film, or maybe my previous viewing of the 1988 remake gave me more of a lust for blood and horror, or maybe it simply isn’t a great film worthy of decades of praise and analysis.  Whatever the reason, I’m at the very least glad that I’ve finally crossed it off the never ending list of films to see.  While The Blob isn’t the worst film I’ve ever sat through (I watched it twice, for what it’s worth), it’s riddled with too many problems for me to consider it worthy of the amount of praise it’s received in the 58 years since its release.  The premise of the film is incredibly unique and full of potential, but the screenplay and uninspired direction neuters most of what could have been so great about a killer alien blob.  Instead of taking an exciting and thrilling approach to the looming terror of the blob, the film spends a LOT of time just kind of…idle.  Even though we spend a lot of time with Steve and Jane, we never really get to know who they are.  Most of their key character traits are delivered to the audience through laborious expository scenes, making them infinitely less interesting or compelling than if the script had taken a subtle, natural approach.  With no assistance from the script, lead actor Steve McQueen displays almost none of the charisma or charm that would make him a Hollywood icon later in his career. Nobody in The Blob feels remotely believable in the roles they’ve been given.  I suppose it doesn’t help the immersion factor when we’re given a cast of people in their mid-late 20’s playing kids in their late teens.  When things finally get exciting and the film is reaching its boiling point, I found myself not caring anymore because the buildup left too much to be desired.  Instead of building to a reveal of the blob, we see the creature (?) immediately, and see everything it’s capable of doing within the first thirty minutes of the film.  By giving us everything we could possibly want upfront and leaving few questions unanswered, the filmmakers give viewers very little to grasp onto for the last hour or so.  The blob itself is a great idea in theory, but the film’s special effects just look silly and cheap when the camera lingers too long – which it often does. On the plus side, The Blob features some incredibly vivid and bright colour photography courtesy of De Luxe color and cinematographer Thomas E. Spalding.  The photography makes watching the film incredibly easy, as it constantly looks interesting despite featuring bland (sometimes almost non-existent) direction.  Luckily, director Irvin Yeaworth manages to get a few scenes right.  Specifically, the famous movie theatre set piece is something that just has to be seen by horror or sci-fi fans.  The tension in these scenes is palpable, and feels unlike anything else found in The Blob.  The creeping horror brings a great deal of real dread with it, and makes it without a doubt the most memorable thing about the film.  The shots of the blob oozing through the movie theatre’s ventilation system is horrifying and subtle, and as a viewer you feel for every single person unknowingly sitting in the dark with the thing.  If only the movie as a whole was as great as these moments.


The culmination of The Blob‘s famous movie theater set piece.

The amount of love and praise given to The Blob over the years is something I just can’t wrap my mind around.  While I see a lot about the film to enjoy or appreciate, the project as a whole is far too problematic for me to look past all of its flaws.  The film looks great and has one of the greatest set pieces found in any film during our 50’s Sci-Fi marathon, but it’s not enough to offset the sloppy and flat out dull writing, the uninspired and amateurish direction, and the miscasting of most of the principal cast.  The Blob is deserving of a truly memorable and grotesque big screen adaptation, as the idea is terrific despite its inherent goofiness.  Unfortunately, the 1958 original isn’t the memorable or fun thrill ride it could and very well should have been.  The Blob is not recommended.

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50’s Sci-Fi Feature #5 – The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957)

IncredibleShrinkingMan-posterThe Incredible Shrinking Man (1957)
Directed by: Jack Arnold
Written by: Richard Matheson (based on The Shrinking Man by Richard Matheson)
Starring: Grant Williams, Randy Stuart, April Kent, Paul Langton, Billy Curtis

The Incredible Shrinking Man might be the most horrifying and surreal of any film we’ve taken a look at during our 50’s Sci-Fi marathon.  The 1957 classic may come off as pulpy, completely unbelievable, and hackneyed, but what we have here is a genuinely original and interesting picture.  Based on acclaimed writer Richard Matheson’s The Shrinking Man and produced by Universal Pictures, it’s no wonder Jack Arnold’s film had endured the test of time and stands as a classic all these decades later.  Rather than capitalizing on the paranoia and distrust of Western culture of the time, Shrinking Man explores themes of masculinity and what happens when a man can go no longer be a traditional man.  Director Jack Arnold made an entire career out of directing cult science fiction fare that would grow to be hailed as classics by modern historians and critics.  His filmography includes sci-fi classics like It Came From Outer Space, Creature from the Black Lagoon, Tarantula, and the Peter Sellers comedy vehicle The Mouse That Roared.  The film stars Grant Williams as Scott Carey, and Randy Stuart as Louise Carey, Scott’s wife.  While Grant Williams was never quite able to relive the success of The Incredible Shrinking Man, his co-star Randy Stuart had an impressive career that saw her work side by side with established leading actors like Clifton Webb, William Holden, and Cary Grant, as well as being featured on many acclaimed television shows.  Despite its relative lack of star power or budget, The Incredible Shrinking Man was both a critical and financial success, doubling its budget at the box office and earning acclaim for its intelligent script and incredibly exciting action set pieces.  The film is also notable for winning the first official Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation, one of the highest annual honors for science fiction, horror, and fantasy films.  Like many of the other films covered during our 50’s Sci-Fi marathon, The Incredible Shrinking Man has the honour of sitting in the Library of Congress’ National Film Registry.

The film begins with Scott Carey (Grant Williams) and his wife Louise (Randy Stuart) alone on a boat one evening.  While Louise is below deck, a strange cloud touches down upon the boat and coats Scott’s exposed skin in an odd mist-like substance.  Thinking nothing of the incident, the couple go back to their California home and everything continues on in a perfectly normal manner.  That is, until six months later when Scott notices that his normally perfectly tailored clothes have become too big for him.  After his clothing situation continues to get worse and worse, Scott sees his family physician who assures him that he’s in perfect health and shouldn’t worry about anything.  After Louise notices a significant decrease in her husband’s height (she no longer needs to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him), the two seek out an x-ray for proof.  Scott learns from an investigative medical team that the mist he was exposed to what radioactive, and his molecular structure has been rearranged as a result.  Scott continues to shrink in size and must quit his work as a result.  He can no longer do simple things he has been doing for his entire life, and relies on Louise and his brother Charlie (Paul Langton) for support.  Eventually a supposed cure is found, which arrests Scott’s shrinking problem, but does not return him to his former height.  After a period of stabilization, Scott realizes that he is once again rapidly shrinking. Soon, Scott is small enough to live inside a dollhouse.  His relationship with Louise rapidly disintegrates, and his own household cat soon becomes a danger to Scott’s life.  After a particularly close call with the cat, Scott becomes trapped in the basement of his home, from which he can find no escape.  Louise and Charlie assume that the cat has killed and eaten Scott, and the two mourn the loss of their beloved Scott.  Now a widow, Louise arranges to move from the house she shared with her husband.  Can Scott find his way out of his own dangerous basement before it’s too late, or will the mysterious radiation side effect take his life before he can reach his wife?  Find out the answer in 1957’s The Incredible Shrinking Man!


A shrinking Scott Carey (Grant Williams) in 1957’s The Incredible Shrinking Man.

Jack Arnold’s The Incredible Shrinking Man is without a doubt the biggest surprise I’ve had watching a film for quite some time.  I went into it fully expecting to laugh at the schlocky story and to poke fun at its dated ideas and special effects, but I did none of these things.  Instead, I found myself constantly being challenged by the challenging ideas regarding masculinity and what it means to be a man – specifically a man in an era when women were still held down on such a wide scale.  While the idea of a man shrinking to a size so small that he’s forced to live in a dollhouse (and eventually fight to the death with a spider) may seem silly at first glance, the ideas presented in The Incredible Shrinking Man are horrifying.  Everything that defined Scott Carey as a modern American man is taken away from him in a matter of months.  He loses his wife, his job, his friends, his hopes and ambitions, and even his very own identity. Those are incredibly high stakes no matter who you ask, and none of them are played for cheap laughs in the film, nor are they are handled clumsily by the filmmakers.  Jack Arnold’s direction of the film is quite wonderful, presenting a believable case of a man shrinking and being unable to stop it.  His serious handling of a subject matter that could so easily be played in a comedic way deserves a great deal of praise.  Instead of laughing at or rolling my eyes at the ever-changing life of Scott Carey, I was genuinely drawn into the story and found myself sympathizing for this poor man.  I suppose it helps that the screenplay was adapted by the author of the original story, the great Richard Matheson.  Matheson’s handling of his own adaptation is subtle and delicate, perfectly bringing to life an almost impossible concept – radiation poisoning that leads to shrinking.  While the subject matter found in The Incredible Shrinking Man is different than most sci-fi films of the era, it still manages to tap into the general fear of atomic power.  The nature of Scott’s sickness is completely unique and has never been seen before, and the entire thing is chalked up to being a side effect of prolonged exposure to radiation.  The fear of the unknown powers held by atomic energy can very much be felt in the early moments of the film.  These themes help Shrinking Man stay relevant in the same ways as its more paranoid contemporaries, and is probably one of the many reasons this picture still holds up today.  While the performance of Grant Williams’ performance doesn’t exactly reinvent the wheel, his presence in the film is just emotional enough to make the audience feel for Scott Carey.  The incredible special effects that seemingly shrink Williams down to the size of a spider hold up incredibly well for what is essentially just Grant Williams playing with life-sized props.  The film takes a dramatic shift in tone once Scott has been lost in his basement, turning into a much quieter, desperate film.  We see Scott struggle to find sources of food, battle with nature, and struggle for survival amongst things that were once simple household objects to him.  The tone here is much darker than the first two acts of the film, and helps really elevate the stakes to a truly remarkable level.  The last act of the film is where The Incredible Shrinking Man truly shines, as we get to marvel at the film’s incredible set pieces and special effects.  This all builds to the film’s incredibly sudden and pitch black ending, giving the audience a simultaneous sense of hope and doom.  No matter how you interpret the film’s bleak ending, it’s one that will no doubt resonate with you long after the credits have rolled.


One of the most famous set pieces in Jack Arnold’s The Incredible Shrinking Man.

The Incredible Shrinking Man continues a long streak of incredibly impressive and timeless science fiction tales that have managed to stand the often brutal Hollywood test of time.  By handling its subject matter in an evenhanded and mature way, Richard Matheson’s already terrific subject matter is elevated to a whole new level.  What should be a completely forgettable and schlocky B-movie is instead an incredibly memorable experience that takes a good hard look at masculinity in 1950’s America, the uprising of women in the workforce, and of the unknown nature of atomic energy.  The film soars above many of its contemporaries by featuring tremendous and believable special effects, a solid lead performance, and some great effort from a veteran director and writer.  The Incredible Shrinking Man is highly recommended.

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50’s Sci-Fi Feature #4 – Forbidden Planet (1956)

ForbiddenplanetposterForbidden Planet (1956)
Directed by: Fred M. Wilcox
Written by: Cyril Hume (story by Irving Block, Allen Adler)
Starring: Walter Pidgeon, Anne Francis, Leslie Nielsen, Warren Stevens, Jack Kelly, Robby the Robot

Forbidden Planet’s oddball send-up to the likes of Sigmund Freud and William Shakespeare is far and away the most fantastic of the 50’s Sci-Fi features we’ve taken a look at thus far during our marathon.  Taking place light years away from the planet earth and featuring a very small cast of characters, the science fiction extravaganza paved the way for future massive franchises like Star Trek, Lost in Space, and Doctor Who.  Forbidden Planet was a trailblazer in a variety of ways, being one of the first motion pictures to take place outside of the planet Earth, showing humans travelling faster than light speed, featuring a believable talking robot as a fully-fledged supporting character, and scored entirely electronically for the first time in film history. These features may not seem like much in 2016, but they all had a part in making science fiction and fantasy film-making what it is today.  Director Fred M. Wilcox’s ambitious loose adaptation of William Shakespeare’s The Tempest is without a doubt the most successful film in the filmmaker’s short filmography, elevating him from being a mere footnote in film history.  Forbidden Planet stars Academy Award nominee Walter Pidgeon as Dr. Edward Morbius, the lone human inhabitant of the planet Altair IV.  Alongside the veteran Pidgeon are television star Anne Francis as Dr. Morbius’ daughter Alta, eventual comedic legend Leslie Nielsen as Commander John Adams, leader of the expedition to Altair IV, and Robby the Robot, Dr. Morbius’ highly advanced robot.  Production of the film took place for a little over a month in the Spring of 1955, and believing that Forbidden Planet would have mass appeal, the filmmakers were given a budget of nearly $2 million to work with.  The “Robby the Robot” prop itself cost more than $100,000, and continued to be used for decades in television and films in various capacities.  Upon its initial release in March of 1956, Forbidden Planet was a modest box office success, earning more than $2.7 million from general audiences.  Though the film’s box office performance didn’t exactly change the game or set the film world ablaze, its success ultimately led to the mass production of space-set science fiction movies for decades to come.  Its critical success saw it nominated for an Oscar, and today Forbidden Planet sits in the prestigious National Film Registry.  It is remembered by audiences to this day for being a truly daring and visionary picture that dared to explore the outer reaches of the universe.

The film is set in the distant 23rd century, and takes place entirely on the planet of Altair IV, where a mission is underway to discover the fate of an expedition from two decades earlier.  Dr. Morbius (Walter Pidgeon) is seemingly the only expedition member still in contact with the ship, and he warns the ship not to set down, as he cannot guarantee their safety.  Throwing caution to the wind, Commander John Adams (Leslie Nielsen) decides to land on Altair IV to investigate the situation.  The crew is greeted by Robby the Robot (Marvin Miller), a technical marvel built by Morbius.  Robby the Robot has been programmed to never harm human beings, more or less following the Three Laws of Robotics established by famed sci-fi author Isaac Asimov.  The advanced robot leads the crew of the ship to Dr. Morbius, who shows tells them the fate of his crew from 20 years earlier, and shows off his technical prowess by explaining Robby the Robot’s programming to never harm human beings.  Morbius’ daughter Alta (Anne Francis) is soon introduced to the ship’s crew.  It is immediately apparent that there’s something very peculiar about the way Dr. Morbius and his young daughter have managed to survive and thrive on the apparently hostile Altair IV.  Overnight, the crew’s ship is sabotaged by an unknown force, and Dr. Morbius is confronted by Commander Adams.  He denies any involvement and shows Adams ancient technology discovered by the former inhabitants of Altair IV.  The next night, a crew member is killed by the unknown force, and further alarms are raised by Adams and his crew.  Can Commander Adams convince Dr. Morbius to let them take highly important ancient technology back to earth for study, or will the lone inhabitant of Altair IV do what he can to maintain his intergalactic paradise?  Find out in 1956’s game changing Forbidden Planet!


Robby the Robot and Cook (Earl Holliman) in 1956’s Forbidden Planet.

Having heard little about Forbidden Planet before seeing it, I had always assumed it was an early ultra low budget, Roger Corman-esque production.  This assumption proved very wrong indeed, as I quickly found out that Forbidden Planet has a lot more to offer than just being a schlocky and disposable science fiction flick.  What it brings to the table is genuine intelligence and charm, more so than I ever could have expected from such an early Hollywood venture into outer space.  From the very first minute of the film, Forbidden Planet is colorful and visually interesting in almost every frame.  Though the planet of Altair IV feels very earth-like in many ways, the planet still manages to be different enough to be constantly intriguing.  Despite his relative lack of big budget experience, the film’s journeyman director (Fred M. Wilcox) manages to make the film visually interesting with tight framing and a wandering camera.  It helps that Wilcox is working with a solid screenplay by writer Cyril Hume, who effortlessly blends hard science fiction concepts with expository scenes.  Hume’s script never sacrifices its quality to explain concepts directly to the audience, instead going for a more subtle approach using elements of traditional sci-fi and horror films, mixed with dry wit and a Shakespeare inspired story structure.  Forbidden Planet’s script is partially inspired by The Tempest, following the same general story arc and hitting many of the same milestones along the way.  This inspiration helps to elevate Forbidden Planet’s story from silly science fiction fantasy to a legitimately unique and inspired tale.  The story never pauses long enough to become dull or overstay its welcome, instead constantly introducing new ideas to the audience.  As soon as you think you know a character like Dr. Morbius or Commander Adams, their characters are turned upside down and new elements of their personalities are uncovered.  I found myself actually caring about the three principle characters in Forbidden Planet, something that hasn’t happened during the course of our ongoing 50’s Sci-Fi marathon.  The pacing of the story alone is a sign of how strong Cyril Hume’s writing is, and helps the movie remain engaging even six decades after its release.  While I wouldn’t exactly call it the perfect science fiction film, I very much appreciated everything it was able to bring to the table, and the tremendous influence it had on the medium.  The introduction of Robby the Robot alone was very forward-thinking and progressive for the time, giving an artificial life-form a degree of autonomy, as well as a somewhat human personality.  By the end of Forbidden Planet, you can’t help but wonder what science fiction would look like today if the film had never been released.


Walter Pidgeon, Anne Francis, and Leslie Nielsen in the classic science fiction film Forbidden Planet.

Forbidden Planet laid the groundwork for the next sixty years of science fiction films, and captured the imaginations of generations of moviegoers.  The colorful and interesting visuals, solid direction, and excellent script form an incredibly engaging tale of interstellar exploration, thirst for power and knowledge, and the search for answers.  The film was far ahead of its time, and its influence on the genre simply cannot be underestimated by viewers.  While some elements don’t hold up to today’s standards, it remains an interesting case study for what science fiction films can be, and a reminder of how simple the genre was before the film’s release.  Forbidden Planet comes highly recommended.

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