Universal Pictures would follow up their 1955 science fiction feature This Island Earth, with another larger than life science horror tale.
This time the focus would be a monster creature feature and developing one of humanity’s greatest fears, the spider, more specifically the tarantula. It would take on one of the popular themes of the time, by increasing the size of creatures (or in some cases, shrinking the humans) to maximise the threat factor on screen.
Set in the fictional town of Desert Rock, Arizona, Tarantula! Is essentially your science gone wrong, film, and picks up with a deformed man emerging out from the vast landscape before dying. The man in question was biological research scientist Eric Jacobs, and we later find out that it was his research that was his own undoing.
Our lead protagonist and local town doctor, Matt Hastings (John Agar) is intrigued by Jacobs’ strange deformity and is compelled to find out the truth. His investigations naturally lead him into danger when he finds out just how life threatening Jacobs’ research has gone. The research laboratory is in the back of beyond, where Jacob’s colleague Professor Gerald Deemer (Leo G. Carroll – Strangers on A Train, North By Northwest) resides and appears to be continuing with the experiments. It also turns out that part of the formula that is being tested on the animals in the lab, speeds up the growth rate, including the titular Tarantula who escapes following the initial fire outbreak and is now growing at an alarming rate and consuming all the local cattle… before taking a fancy to human flesh!
It’s all b-movie material with close ups of the victims as the tarantula descends upon them and they meet their end.
Of course it wouldn’t be a 50s sci fi horror without a love interest thrown into the mix, which is where lab assistant and student, Stephanie Clayton (Mara Corday) enters the scene and into the spider’s lair, so to speak, to become the damsel in distress but with smarts.
By the film’s conclusion, humanity has to resort to some heavy duty firepower to rid the world of this menacing creature, and it comes from the Air Force, carrying napalm and piloted by a certain cameo by Clint Eastwood.
Saul Muerte
Tarantula is currently available at Umbrella Entertainment as part of a double bill blu-ray with The Incredible Shrinking Man.
My Universal horror retrospective chronicling the transition away from the genre that made the production company famous throughout the 30s and 40s and into the sci-fi realm continues with This Island Earth.
At the time of its release the movie was noted for its state-of-the-art effects and use of Technicolor but it would later be famously ridiculed in Mystery Science Theater 3000, showing just how far the film had fallen in the public’s eye.
For me, it will always conjure up the image of the Metaluna Mutant, once a rejected choice for It Came From Outer Space (1953)It’s an iconic character that probably deserves a little more screen time than it actually receives than the short scare towards the film’s climax.
Upon closer scrutiny, TIE does suffer with minimal plot narrative to bind it together; a case of more style than substance. So you can understand the mockery that it fell subject to in more recent years,
The story essentially follows Dr. Cal Meacham (Rex Reason) who is mysteriously rescued when his jet almost crashlands with the aid of a strange green glow. He is then gifted a set of instructions to build a complex machine; a test to see if he has the smarts to be selected for a special research project run by the equally mystifying Exeter (Jeff Morrow).
Before long Cal is recruited by Exeter and meets up with old flame Dr. Ruth Adams (Faith Domergue) and a few other hand-picked scientists. The film quickly develops from a proposed science espionage flick into an intergalactic war when Cal and Ruth are whisked away to the planet Metulana, a planet under attack from the unseen Zagons.
There are great leaps in the imagination here from a screenplay based on the novel by Raymond F. Jones, and one needs to give in to the mindless direction it takes you in and not pay to close mind to the obvious flaws within.
It remains a film with some great images for its time, despite this, and is indicative of the b-movie sci-fi flicks that would swiftly follow suit and one that would capture the imagination of cinema-goers in the mid 50s.
On the other side of the pond however, Britain’s Hammer Films were offering up an alternative spin on the science fiction scene with… The Quatermass Xperiment.
…would symbolise the bridge between Universal’s golden horror era and their move into the sci-fi genre. It also marks the last of the iconic monsters to be born out of the giant film production house. Directed by Jack Arnold (who also helmedIt Came From Outer Space (1953)), The Creature would follow a group of scientists who uncover an amphibious humanoid known as the Gill-man in the heart of the Amazon.
Released in 3D at the point of its decline in the early 50s, and also in the traditional two-dimensional format, managed to capture over $1m in Box Office takings but was overshadowed by its predecessors.
Among the scientists are Dr. David Reed (Richard Carlson) and Kay Lawrence (Julia Adams), the latter forming the object of affection for Gill-man. The film was reported to been inspired by the tale Beauty and the Beast, which is evident at least in the creatures pursuit for love among humankind, fascinated by the beautiful Kate, leading to a similar conclusion to King Kong, where the monster kidnaps the female lead and ends up riddled with bullets. In this instance, though, the monster doesn’t fall a great height , but instead sinks to the depths of a supposed watery grave.
The story is a simple one enough, and is entertaining despite treading in familiar territory, carving out the usual horror movie tropes. It’s appeal lies mainly through the underwater sequences and the cinematography captured to instil fear and create atmosphere. The Gill-man would be portrayed by Ricou Browning for these water scenes, who had the gruelling task of holding his breath under for minutes at a time to deliver the strenuous fight scenes. On land, this task of donning the creatures mask fell to Ben Chapman, who had to wear the costume for 14 hour stretches in the heat and with minimal visibility at best. Considered a success by Universal, a further two instalments would come in the franchise with…
Revenge of the Creature (1955)
Jack Arnold would be charged with directing the creature once again, only this time the Universal monster is far removed from its native Amazon landscape and confined in captivity where it is studied by Professor Clete Ferguson (John Agar) and his student Helen Dobson (Lori Nelson). The film follows a familiar trajectory though of unrequited love as the creature pursues and captures Helen, only to be shot by police in his escape for freedom. Ricou Browning would once again return for the underwater segments, and Tom Hennesy filling in for the above ground sequences. Revenge though would be something of a forgotten entry other than to be mocked in Mystery Science Theater 3000, and for boasting Clint Eastwood as an uncredited role as a lab technician. This didn’t stop the creature from returning to screens however three years down the track with…
The Creature Walks Among Us (1958)
The creatures final feature length appearance for Universal would see a different director with John Sherwood but would still see Ricou Browning in full Creature make up (Don Megowan would take on the on-land duties), although now the look had altered slightly. This follows its rescue and surgery after being burned in a fire, the creature becomes physically more human looking and loses its gills, developing lungs to breathe.
The villainy and fear factor falls more in human terrain this time with the abusive and mentally unstable Dr. Barton (Jeff Morrow). The creature sided with a tale of what it means to be human or beast? When we go through such psychological stages, can we truly rid our genetic make up, or in the creatures case, would the call of the ocean prove to be too great?
Our last shot of the iconic creature would see it on the beachfront, walking into the great sea.
The Creature’s cultural impact would still hang in the minds and inspirations of film creatives for years to come however, with several attempts at a remake and appearances in films such as The Monster Squad, and the more recent Creepshow series on Shudder. It’s most affection nod tough comes in Guillermo Del Toro’s The Shape of Water, eager to give the creature one last shot at love.
In the following year to Universal’s The Strange Door, the production house would release the last real gothic horror story in their canon, The Black Castle. It would pull out all the stops in another melodramatic tale, harbouring the talents of Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney Jr to steer the film both from a financial and credibility perspective.
The movie didn’t come without its problems however with original director Joseph Pevney stepping aside due his lack of faith in the script to make way for art director Nathan Juran to take the helm for what would be his first time in the director’s chair. Juran would go on to direct The Deadly Mantis; Attack of the 50ft Woman; and The 7th Voyage of Sinbad among his credits. For his initial feature though, he would openly admit that he was guided by the on screen talent to provide their valuable knowledge in the films making.
The plot for The Black Castle is admittedly minimalistic and in that sense, one can understand Pevney’s reservations. It also has similar themes to The Strange Door around imprisonment and escape from an evil antagonist, this time in the guise of Count Von Bruno (Stephen McNally).
The movie has been treated kindly by notable reviewers retrospectively, most notably because of its high quality in most of the production elements, and the cast are strong enough to ground the film. For me, the film doesn’t hold enough appeal to make it an iconic one. Cinephiles will appreciate it for its cinematic value at the decline of Universal horror which is warranted, but others may struggle to connect to the films narrative.
As Universal creaked into the early 50s, they were taking giant strides towards a new sub-genre sparked by the space race that was capturing the Nation’s zeitgeist. The creatures that the production house had built its name upon had now shifted into more comedic terrain with Abbott and Costello. There was still some room for gothic horror though and The Strange Door based on Robert Louis Stevenson’s short novel, The Sire de Maletroit’s Door would pit veterans Charles Laughton and Boris Karloff alongside one another in a last ditch effort to draw the crowds.
The premise is a slight tale about revenge, mischaracterisation and ultimately love in the face of adversity and is presented more as a melodrama than horror. Laughton also does his best to chew up the scenery and lapping up every moment as Alain de Maletroit, s msn consumed by grief and jealousy over the death of his brother Edmund’s wife. Alain imprisons Edmund (Paul Cavanagh) and raises his niece, Bianche (Sally Forrest) as though she were his child. This is through some warped connection to his sister-in -law that he longs to hold onto.
Everything is a whim or a game for Alain though, spoilt by his riches and living the life of a megalomaniac, content in ruining the lives of others to please his cruel desires.
Part of his trickery involves ensnaring a wayward thief, Denis (Richard Stapley) and convince him to marry Bianche, and then arrange for him to be murdered on the eve of their wdding night. True to the machiavellian style that the film is modelled on however, Alain doesn’t account for Denis and Bianche to actually fall in love. Nor does he foresee that his longtime dogsbody Voltan (Karloff) would have a change of heart and join focus with the lovebound duo in freeing the imprisoned Edmond and foil Alain’s plans.
While The Strange Door was well received at the time, upon recent viewing, you can’t help but notice that it is missing that special je ne sais quoi that was reminiscent in their earlier movies despite having stellar performers in Laughton and Karloff in the cast.
Despite some reluctance from the stars, Bud Abbott and Lou Costello’s light was starting to wane in the public eye, and along with their contract through Universal were tied to another outing; one that would preserve their initial encounter with the Production house’ monsters into the National Film Registry for its historical significance. That film would be…
Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948)
Here would mark a turning point for Universal, who had made a great deal of success through the 1930s for their Gothic line of Universal films. This notable change would occur at a time when the inkwell was running dry, and the Production house would be looking for alternate ways to capitalise on their winning formula by subverting the genre from horror to comedy. This transposition would not be treated in kind, especially from Lon Chaney Jr, who would proclaim “Abbott and Costello ruined the horror films: they made buffoons out of the monsters…” His words would hold deeper meaning for the future of Universal’s horror genre, which by the end of the 50s would be all but non-existent. Despite this and during the time of its release, the film would go on to be one of the most successful of the Frankenstein franchise.
In Meet Frankenstein, the comedy duo would be pitted against The Wolf Man (Lon Chaney Jr), Dracula (Bela Lugosi – who would actually speak favourably of the depiction of his most known character), and The Monster (Glenn Strange) to keep alive the buzz generated from their monster universe. It even boasts a cameo from The Invisible Man in the film’s climax, voiced by Vincent Price.
A lot of the movie revolves around pantomime tricks and scares but brought to life by the comic timing of Costello who falls prey to the “cry wolf” syndrome, despite his cries being genuine, combined with Abbott’s straight man routine. Despite my ambivalence towards the movie, as in heart I echoed Chaney Jr’s sentiments, the film would still holds a strong position. The looks to camera breaking the fourth wall was a joy to watch, and the formula would generate s further four movies for Abbott and Costello in the Universal Monsters universe. The first of these would be…
Abbott and Costello Meet The Killer, Boris Karloff (1949)
Rounding out the 40s, Boris Karloff was the only notable star absent from the previous movie, although he was paid to promote it, and was also reluctant to watch it. Karloff was hired only five days before shooting began, the role originally a female called Madame Switzer, and would play that of a swami with mysterious intent. I thoroughly enjoyed this movie, a whodunnit where Costello’s bellboy Freddie becomes the prime suspect in a murder. And when the body count starts to pile up, he can’t seem to get rid of the corpses to clear his name. This would lead to a hilarious scene where Costello and Abbott (supporting him to prove his innocence as detective Casey) play a game of cards with some of the cadavers.
Lenore Aubert is also brought in to support, as the femme fatale Angela Gordon. This continues a theme from Meet Frankenstein where the female costar attempts to seduce Costello, much to Abbott’s chagrin.
Abbott and Costello Meet The Invisible Man (1951)
Having dangled the imperceptible carrot in Meet Frankenstein it was inevitable that Abbott and Costello would come face to face with the Invisible Man. This time our anti-hero is played by Athur Franz as Tommy Nelson, a boxer who is framed for the murder of his manager after refusing to throw a fight. Out to prove his innocence, Tommy steals the invisible formula from scientist Dr. Gray (Gavin Muir) who warns him of the dangers of the serum and the effects that brought about the ruin of Jack Griffin.
Abbott and Costello enter the scene as private detectives by Tommy during the investigation and become embroiled in the mystery leading Costello’s Lou Francis to go undercover as an underdog in the boxing scene aided by the invisible Tommy to help him win the fights.
Sandwiched between this feature and the next Universal confrontation would be Abbott and Costello Go To Mars, another indication of Universal’s departure from the horror scene and into the world of science fiction, which would be in tune with the popular zeitgeist of the time.
Abbott and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1953)
Abbott and Costello’s fourth outing in the Universal Monster scene drawing inspiration from the Robert Louis Stevenson novel and are cast as American detectives in Edwardian London following the pursuit of some murders that have taken place, allegedly by Dr. Jekyll, played by Boris Karloff. The Hyde counterpart would be portrayed by stuntman Eddie Parker.
Interestingly, there would be no transformation scenes, instead depicting both Jekyll and Hyde individually, and fuelling the idea that there is no good at all in Dr. Jekyll, who yearns for the misdeeds performed by his alter-ego.
The film itself would also show the cracks beginning to form in Universal’s marriage with the comic duo, with signs that the humour was running dry, resorting to slapstick performances. There would however, be one more feature before Abbott and Costello would bow out of the comedy / horror scene…
Abbott and Costello Meet The Mummy (1955)
28 movies into their working partnership for Universal-International, Abbott and Costello would play against the last of the production house monster’s, the mummified Klaris (Eddie Parker). The comedy duo find themselves in the midst of an archaeological feud between Semu (Richard Deacon) and Madame Rontru (Marie Windsor) for the treasures of Princess Ara and control over Klaris.
Abbott and Costello would continue their usual comedy schtick but here it sits well as they bumble around Cairo. It is somewhat fitting that they could lay their comedy horror routine to rest amongst the Egyptian tombs. Their routine by this time is becoming stale and trying. They would eventually part ways in 1957 albeit amicably.
The Brute Man would mark Rondo Hatton’s final film credit having tragically passed away due to heart problems. Cast in a number of films due to his physical presence which would make him an ideal on screen villain, which started out as supporting roles for a few crime, mob-related features. By the 1940s, Hatton would see his star elevated to leading roles for movies such as The Pillow of Death and House of Horrors, the latter of which alongside this movie would see him as the iconic Creeper character. This character would be so embedded in Universal’s golden era that it would be homaged in the 1980s feature film, The Rocketeer played by Tiny Ron.
Here, Hatton’s Creeper is out for revenge for those he believes disfigured him, starting with Professor Cushman (John Hamilton). Among those whom he pursues is a couple, Clifford (Tom Neal) and Virginia (Jan Wiley), who form part of a love/hate quadrangle with the Creeper who shows a heart of gold when trying to help Helen (Jane Adams), a blind pianist. This last part of the shaped motif is a little nod to Frankenstein’s monster who also befriends the blind flutist in James Whale’s 1931 version.
Despite these attempts to pay homage to the past and create terror in the cinema again, writer George Bricker (a gun for hire to create Production companies, B-features) would struggle to strike fear in the hearts of the audience. Likewise, director Jean Yarbrough would find it hard to break the mold of the low budget horror features that he had been accustomed to. So paltry was the final product that audiences responded negatively to it, and the film is now more closely associated with being the target for grilling in Mystery Science Theater 3000.
It would be a significant turning point for Universal, who were starting to see the effects of their golden years ebbing away and losing the magic touch it once laid claim to in the field of horror. Throughout the 50s their journey would take them in a completely different direction, but that will be for another series of articles.
Billed as a horror whodunnit, The Cat Creeps was released at a time when the magic from classic genre themed movies that Universal built its name upon was beginning to wear off. Not to be confused with the 1930s feature bearing the same name, the feature would also struggle without any of the big name stars such as Bela Lugosi or Boris Karloff to carry the horror torch into another generation of scares. Forming part of a double feature alongside She-Wolf of London, The Cat Creeps would also herald the last of the horror features for the film production giant for the 1940s.
Retrospectively watching the movie today, you can sense the lack of sparkle in the films narrative, centred around a black cat that is suspected of being possessed by an elderly lady who was murdered possibly for inheritance.
Character actor, Noah Beery Jr., does his best to fill the screen with presence and humour; an early indicator that serves the same comical tone that Abbott and Costello would bring to their movies through the late 40s and early 50s for Universal. The issue here though is that Beery Jr grates more than pleases in his role of Pidge “Flash” Laurie, forcing a disconnect from a modern audience. The film canters along with this black humour pace without much care to the end of the film slowly bumping off the usual suspects along the way until the real villain of the piece is revealed.
If you like a half-decent murder mystery, there’s plenty on show, but the predictability is too great with an old formula being utilised to capitalise on former success. Unfortunately, there it lacks in appeal with nothing new to show, emphasising the stale end that the decade would bring for the company.
Less She-Wolf of London and more She-Wolf in Sheep’s clothing as this 1946 feature from Universal Pictures attempts to pull the wool over their audience’s eyes.
The ruse is well implanted in the psyche by the antagonist, leading our heroine and us down a mythological lie born out of the fear and paranoia that the Allenby family has werewolf blood in its veins.
It may have served better to have called the film, The Curse of the Allenbys, (which is actually the title given to the feature for its UK release), but then this would not have put as many bums on seats and capitalised on the Universal backlot of Werewolf movies that starred Lon Chaney. It would also have been cool to have used the same plot but leveraged from the 1936 vehicle starring Henry Hull as Dr. Wilfred Glendon. Instead of using the Allenby family name, if they had used their bluff around Dr. Glendon, then there would have been more merit to the gaslighting component.
All this may sound a little harsh, because in truth, the film is incredibly strong in its delivery and using greed and power as its core theme for the subterfuge. Our lead character, Phyllis (June Lockhart) stands to come into the Allenby fortune, but standing in her way is either her Aunt Martha (Sara Haden) or her cousin Carol (Jan Wiley) who have lived in the mansion all their lives and could lose it all.
The fact that there has also been a series of murders near the estate and reported sightings of a she-wolf only adds fuel to Phyliss’ fears, forced to her bed and away from society in case she is the one responsible.
She-Wolf of London struggles to find an identity of its own as it attempts to prize itself free from the coat-tails of yester-year movies produced by Universal, but inevitably the film is slow and cumbersome with barely a ripple of fear to be seen.
This is the movie where Rondo Hatton’s (The Spider Woman Strikes Back) shambling frame comes to the fore and I personally think that it works in this instance. There are some critics that felt at the time and retrospectively feel otherwise, and that the giant killer concept is awkward and laughable.
For me, there is a similarity to Of Mice And Men with the Lenny and and George characters, two misfits in society, outcasts if you will. The Lenny character in this case aligned with Hatton’s character, The Creeper, instead of a good heart, misguided by those around him, he’s a malicious cold blooded killer seeking to please he’s supposed friend, Marcel De Lange (Martin Kosleck – The Mummy’s Curse, The Frozen Ghost).
Marcel is an art sculptor and the subject of ridicule among his community. Tired of being savaged by critics, he seeks his vengeance and just when all seems lost he has a chance encounter and saves The Creeper from drowning.
Now Marcel has a human killing machine at his beckoning call, to carry out his demands on those who’ve wronged him.
The only person who could potentially stand in his way is a female reporter, Joan (Virginia Grey) who Marcel is also infatuated with.
But will love or vengeance lead to ruin for the scared artist?
Once again, Universal were trying to champion a new horror series in The Creeper, but after receiving fairly low reviews, unlike it’s antagonist failed to unleash the horror into the world and the third strike out would leave them stumbling towards the end of the decade.
Surgeons of Horror 