REVIEW DATE:11:4:9:9
What better way to kick off Monster Month (doesn't that just sound like it should be followed with a trumpet flair?) then with a movie by my old pal Roger (Teenage Caveman, The Day the World Ended) Corman? And what better movie to choose then one of his most infamous?
You know, two years ago, I'd have never been able to catch this movie. It would have been forever beyond my grasp, collecting dust in a video store to far for me to reach.
But I have cable now. Oh yes! And with blessed cable comes blessed programming. Take AMC's Monster Fest for example (Monster Month's primary inspiration). This three day, 72 hour, pantheon of Bad Movies was any fan boy's dream (and especially mine). With it, I have taken larger steps towards completing my collection of crap cinema then ever before. And for free, too. Take that, Reel.com.
So join me know, as we go back to the magical, mystical, hideous decade of the 1950s. Where, against the warnings of Rod Serving impersonator, Tom Anderson (Lee Van Clef), the military begins to launch satellites into space. These satellites ("The greatest scientific achievement of the century," one incidental character informs us -- ah, the 50s) have an extremely bad habit of blowing up in orbit, or disappearing all together. Dr. Tom has the even worse habit of predicting that this will happen.
Except with this latest launch. This bird keeps a flying', much to the satisfaction of Paul (Peter Graves), Tom's friend (who wears football pads under his neatly pressed suit -- ah, the 50s). Tom, however, is fairly unconcerned about his nixed prediction, and calls Paul away from the table to show him his bitchin' new entertainment center. Before he can explain, Paul is called away. The satellite has disappeared.
As he goes, Tom, much the chagrin of his wife, Claire (Beverly Garland), flips on his entertainment center, which is actually a communications device. He talks into it, and someone on the other end plays a tape into the microphone on extra slow. Well, actually, that's suppose to be the voice of Tom's "little friend" from the planet Venus, but whatever. I just have to plug my fingers into my ears a mumble "suspension of disbelief" over and over again.
So, as Paul arrives, he and his incidental characters discover the satellite's miraculous reappearance. Tom, back at home, believes that his Venentian friend hijacked the satellite and is now ready and waiting to come down. "This is Good, instead of Evil," he tells his wife. Yeah, right. Sure, dude. Whatever.
The Incidental Characters attempt to bring the satellite back to Earth, only to discover "she's behaving very erratically." That, we discover, is no bull, as the satellite (which looks like a saucer from Planet X, on loan from Godzilla vs. Monster Zero) crashes into a nearby mountain. Cut to Paul, talking to his distorted voice. It has arrived.
Not only has It arrived, but It immediately stets upon making several "control devices" for the 4 key people in The Town. Ya know, people like the mayor, the sheriff, the local general . . . Paul.
And these control devices are quite the nasty little buggers. About six inches long, they look like manta rays. Or, at least, manta ray puppets suspended from invisible string and badly integrated into the same scenes as surprised looking actors. Ahh . . . the 50s. Like any good alien control device, these bastards fly around and inject a little thorn like thing into the base of your brain stem. Apparently, this acts an antenna, putting you in touch with KRAP, alien conquest radio. Where we play all the hits!
With the sheriff under Its will, It immediately shuffles the town's population into the desert (this is suppose to be California, like every other Corman movie). With the general under Its command, It marches the satellite project's troops out into the hills. It is the only game in town, now. And Paul is the only one who stands in Its way. Of course, maybe if his wife were doing the talking he might be persuaded to switch teams . . .
Ahh . . . the 50s. That magical time where you couldn't walk into a theater without finding (a) ungainly giant monsters or (b) some damn allegory for communism. First the Invaders from Mars dropped by in 1953, and, 3 years later, in come this movie and (you'll never guess this one) Invasion of the Body Snatchers (told you). Of course, no one really remembers It Conquered the World, unless they enjoy the work of Roger Corman or, like me, run a site dedicated to crappy movies.
There are reasons for that. Not the least of which is the monster design. Legends say that Corman originally strove for some scientific accuracy with his It, giving a stout, squat body to mimic the harsh gravity of Venus. But then, one of his cast members laughed at it. Problem. Solution: turn its head into a giant cone with antennae sticking out. Result: one of the silliest looking creatures this side of, well, the mutant man from The Day the World Ended. By Corman's own admission, his creation has been compared to an ice cream cone, a cucumber, or a mutated pumpkin. I think it's a squash, myself, but whatever.
Whatever it looks like (now there's a "rawshock" test for you), it's just to damn funny to be taken seriously. Sorry, Rog, but it ain't gonna happen.
But forget about the stupid looking monster, we've got bigger fish to fry. Starting with the good acting. That's right, I said "good acting". Want me to spell it out for you?
[The public scratches their heads.]"Did Doc Psy just say he like the acting in a 50's monster movie? Oh my God, the end is coming! Repent! Repent!"
Chill, buster. Yes, I did say "good acting", and, no, the end is not nigh. Lee Van Cleef, once he gets past his Rod impression, delivers a very intense performance. His Tom is driven by the knowledge that he's been right about all this stuff, but no one listens. Pushed to the brink, in steps It, offering him a utopia where he, the only smart one on the block, will be the top of the food chain.
On the other side, we've got Peter Graves and Paul. Paul is rational. Paul is scientific. Paul is a pretty nice guy. Someone you can have a drink with and bitch about your pain-in-the-ass job. Then he gets tossed into a freaky situation and has to do some quick thinking, or the world is going bye-bye. And all with some good lines to boot.
Yep. Good lines. There's some good writing in this movie. And for them, I owe screenwriter Lou Rusoff. Corman may direct crap, but when you combine him with a writer who knows what he's doing, at least the crap won't smell that bad.
And what Claire does puts this movie over the edge and earns it that last half-G. For the first time in 50's sci-fi (that I've seen), she steps out of the standard wife roll. Not only does she spend the whole movie debating with Tom about the merits of alien conquest, but at the end of the flick she . . .
No, I can't tell you. It would simply spoil the surprise.
If your willing to ignore the crappy monster (or laugh at it, like the rest of us) this little atomic child can create some vintage escapism for you. It's not as intellectual as its cousin, Invasion, but, damnit, it doesn't have to be. It's a Roger Corman movie, for crying out loud.
Ahh . . . the 50s. Maybe there's hope for them after all.
Gs (out of a possible five)
MOCK O' METER
