Among other things, The Blob
features one of the weirdest theme songs ever committed to film. It's a peppy toe-taper,
filled with saxophones, melodic vocals and a faint bass beat that almost (dare I say it) Latin.
If it were a product of the early 90s instead of the late 50s it I could get away with
calling it "ska."
The lyrics are odder than heck and the song as a whole is way out of character with the rest of the movie. It's just too damned...peppy. And I don't know anyone on Earth who would call The Blob "peppy."
Recounting a plot here is an exercise in futility. Quite frankly, I don't even know why I'm bothering to review The Blob. Obsessive-compulsive sense of completeness, maybe. Maybe I want to take some wind out of this movie's sails. Or maybe I just want to piss off the people who fawn over this thing an call it a classic so they'll write me nasty letters and fawn over me instead.
You'll have to bear with me, kids. It's been a weird couple of weeks. Like you didn't know.
Steve Andrews (Steve McQueen) doesn't know. He's got other things on his mind. He's up at Lover's Leap trying to go the distance with Jane Martin (Aneta Corsaut), the principle's daughter. Shooting for the moon are we, Steve? Yes. Too bad a meteor lands outside of town just as he's gettin' his groove on.
A rustic old coot (Olin Howlin) has the misfortune to find said meteor and does the worst thing you can possible do: poke it with a stick. Inside, he finds a viscous slime that quickly attaches itself to his right hand and begins to consume his flesh.
Steve and Jane find the old codger and drive him back to their Idyllic Small Town. The kind of town where everyone knows everyone else by their first name. The kind of place where you call the local police chief "Dave." The kind of place where the entire criminal population consists of three seventeen year-old troublemakers and their "hopped up cars." Hell, I'd live there. If I were white enough.
But that's beside the point. The stuff on the old man's hand turns out to be a carnivorous, alien ooze bent on eating its way across the planet, growing larger with every victim. After Steve witnesses it absorb the local doc (Alden "Stephen" Chase), he and Jane try to get the police involved. They dismiss the entire story and send the kids home their families. This gives the Blob free reign to terrorize the ignorant yokels, while Steve, Jane, and a few "wild teenagers" try to sound the Monster Alarm.
This would an easy sweep-n-clean for the MiB, but we're off topic again. And my jokes are just getting lamer by the second.
Everybody and their grandmother knows about this picture, and the stolen elements from Rebel Without a Cause are as obvious as bad skin grafts. Still, this is a fairly good little horror story, once you get over the culture shock of America, 1958. (It's like a whole other world, man!) Special effects are sorely dated in spots (when the Blob moves by making the film run backwards) but hold up well in others (the Blob's exit from the Idyllic Small Town Cinema). Gore is non-existent, and that's...well...not okay, but I can handle it. Still, it can be damn annoying to have the camera cut away just in time for the "money shot." I'm talking to you, director Irvin (Dinosaurus!) Yeaworth.
But I recognize they didn't have that kind of cash. All things considered, Yeaworth does a decent job. This is a very talky movie, but Yeaworth doesn't let things get bogged down. Not much, anyway. A few snips here and there (like the extended Steve-sneaks-out-of-the-house scene) could've picked the pace up considerably and made room for more "money shots." Not that we have that kind of cash. (Hey, full circle. Cool, huh?)
Anyway, we'll see plenty of "money shots" when I review that other Blob movie...round about 2065.
The real terror is supposed to come from the fact that Steve and Jane spend this whole movie running around telling everyone there's a monster on the loose...and no one believes them. Rome's burning and everyone's fiddling because the people running around shouting "fire" are a couple of "no-good kids," to quote the bitter Sergeant Bert (John Benson). The message being, "Adults don't trust you because they treat you as second class citizens," something that'll ring true with every teenager in America. No wonder this little flick endures.
Acting wise, I'm pleased to report The Blob holds up under close scrutiny. When you catch your first glance of Steve McQueen you have to ask yourself: "This guy's like, what? Thirty?" (Twenty-seven, actually.) Still, I liked Steve. He plays Steve with an awkwardness that grabs you. Like a new suit, it'll take some time, but you can grow into Steve McQueen.
Now Aneta Corsaut is a different story. She's the real disappointment here. The
chemistry between Jane and Steve is small-to-nil. I'm not sure if that's intentional or
not (we never learn whether this is their first date or not...but if it is, I know I feel
sorry for Jane) but it's annoying. The leading pair should have something going
on.
Kay Linaker and Theodore Simonson's dialogue doesn't help things along. McQueen gives it the scout's try but, sometimes, the things coming out of his mouth are as stilted as a New England pier.
To say nothing of the way certain supporting characters are turned into complete stereotypes. Sergeant Bert is just the obvious example. Jane's parents are even worse. Hell, Jane never gains more than two dimensions. Sure, she's cute, but she's just so...flat. No, not in that way, you perverts. This is the era of the projectile bra, remember?
I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a soft spot for this little piece of crap. I've always liked the Blob since it's...well, a blob. A faceless, mindless mass, existing only to consume, representative of nothing and everything. A symbolic inkblot test.
But that's just me. You'll have to find your own reason to appreciate The Blob. At the very least, check it out. Because, when all is said and done, it is a classic.
