Ah,
the '50s...
When
America, still wallowing in the fact
that we kicked the collective-asses of
the Axis in WWII, looked to the future,
it would be a grand era of peace,
harmony and easy living as we entered
the push-button age with everything
powered by our little friend the atom.
But
what little
did we know what drastic consequences
this tapping into God’s domain would
wreak upon mankind. It's name was
radiation -- the unfortunate side-effect
of atomic energy, and if we only knew
the horrors it would spawn, we probably
would have left well enough alone.
Instead
we blundered right on ahead with
disastrous results: A rash of films
featuring really, really big mutated
things, running amok and trying to kill
us. One of the first films to tap into
this new breed of paranoia was this
week's film: It
Came From Beneath the Sea.
The
film opens with a montage of stock
footage. (It
reminded me of those old "how
to" films we used to watch back in
grade school during recess on rainy days.
Well, it was either that or square
dancing.)
While the narrator talks about atomic
energy, and how we’ve barely scratched
the surface of its potential, he also
warns that we must use extreme caution
with this new Pandora’s Box.
The
crowning jewel of this new technology is
the first atomic-powered submarine, and
our story proper picks up on its maiden
voyage. The boat’s a real beauty,
practically drives itself, but
it's
so dull and tedious the crew are starting
to go a little stir crazy, and things
continue on their hum-drum course until
the sonar picks up a rather large blip
following them. Too big to be a whale,
Captain Mathews
(Ken Tobey -- thee
fan favorite here at 3B
Theater)
orders the ship to speed up and alter
course to try and shake it. This maneuver
only causes the blip to speed up and it
overtakes the sub, snaring it, stopping it
dead in the water. After a few tense
moments, whatever the heck it is let's
them go and disappears. When two divers
are sent out to inspect for damage, they
find
a big chunk of something stuck in
the ballast. And the real unsettling thing
is, it
appears to be organic
-- and it’s also radioactive!
Heading
back to Pearl, Mathews gives the order
that until they get some answers, technically,
none of this ever happened. Keeping things
on the Q.T., the Navy brings in a couple
of experts: Dr. Carter (Donald
Curtis) and Dr. Joyce (Faith
Domergue). After running some tests
on the dismembered chunk of specimen-X, there
is much scientific babble amongst them and
many references to some conference in
Cairo. Mathews looks lost during the
scientific stuff, but has every intention
of *ahem* "drafting" Dr.
Joyce. The
experts soon deduce that the chunk is part
of a giant cephalopod (that’s
a really big octopus to you and me),
and when presenting their findings to
the Navy brass, they postulate that the
creature resided deep in the trenches of
the Pacific and that the H-bomb tests must
have driven it to the surface. It’s
seems a reasonable theory, but the Navy
doesn’t show much faith in their
findings.
Meanwhile,
the creature strikes again, sinking a
cargo ship. Three
survivors are picked up and taken ashore
where one of them insists that a giant
octopus attacked and sank them. The other
two, not wanting to wind up in the nut-house,
won’t confirm
his story, so the witness relents. The
Navy gets wind of this, and faced with the
mounting evidence, sends their research
group to investigate. Turning on the old
feminine charm, Joyce coaxes the truth out
of all of them.
So,
with the cover story of secret naval
maneuvers, all shipping in the Pacific is
shut down while a massive search for the
beast is put underway. Now, since the
Pacific is a pretty big puddle of water,
they decide to concentrate on the areas
that report mysterious happenings or
disappearances. One
such lead is a missing weather-monitoring
ship off the coast of Oregon. Joyce is
about to head up there when another
disappearance is reported in the same area,
so Mathews and Carter tag along. The local
Sheriff takes them to the beach where they
find a wrecked car and some octopus
tracks. (Yeah,
I know.) Scouring the beach with Geiger
counters, looking for more evidence, they
quickly find some when the monster
suddenly surfaces! It kills the Sheriff
and our heroes beat a hasty retreat.
With
solid evidence of the creature’s
existence now firmly established, the
focus shifts to finding a way to destroy
it. Setting up shop in San Francisco, the
Navy begins to develop an electronic
torpedo that should do the trick. And no
sooner than the new torpedo’s unveiling,
the monster surfaces and attacks the city.
The Golden Gate Bridge has been
electrified to keep the monster away, but
it appears to have the opposite effect.
The monster begins to feed on the
electricity (I
think),
and actually starts to pull itself
up and out of the water. The
bridge is evacuated, but the current is
left on --
and the switch is located oh-so
conveniently in the middle of the bridge!
Carter deduces that the monster is
attracted to the energy and drives onto
the collapsing bridge to cut off the
source. He manages to get to the switch
and pulls the plug. This kinda ticks the
monster off and it demolishes his car,
trapping him there. On the verge of
collapse when Mathews and Joyce arrive, he
leaves her behind and barrels onto the
bridge to save Carter. Rounding him up,
they manage to get off just as the bridge
gives out, and as it collapses, the
monster octopus falls back into the bay.
The
monster doesn’t stay quiet for long, and
quickly surfaces again, near the market
district, and tries to pull itself ashore
looking for food. Mathews and Carter
report back to the atomic sub with new
fangled torpedo. While the Army manages to
drive the monster back into the sea with
flame-throwers, the sub moves in to get a
clear shot at it. They score a direct hit,
but the monster grabs them before they can
get clear -- so
they can’t detonate the torpedo's
warhead without blowing themselves up.
Mathews
dons an aqua-lung (which
sounds so much cooler than scuba gear),
and swims out of the airlock. Armed
with an explosive tipped harpoon, he
plunges it into the offending tentacle.
When it detonates, he's knocked
unconscious in the shockwave -- and worse
yet, the monster doesn’t let go. Carter
tries next
because he knows where the monster’s
vulnerable spot is. Going for one of the
creature’s eyes, he
blasts it with another explosive
harpoon. The enraged monster sloshes in
pain and drops the sub. As it speeds away,
Lt. Griff (Chuck Griffith), even
though his two friends are still out in
the water, obeys his Captain’s last
order and detonates the torpedo. The
creature explodes.
The
danger ended, the sub surfaces and happily
finds that Carter and Mathews safely got
away.
The
end
I
hadn't seen this film for a while. And
as I dusted
it off and watched it again, it gave me a
real bad case of déjà vu. The whole
thing seemed a little too familiar, and it
wasn’t until the questioning of the
shipwreck survivors that I realized this
film was basically a carbon copy of THEM!
-- the
seminal giant bug movie that came out the
year before -- and frankly, not a very good
copy, either. This
had disappointed me until I realized that
George Worthing Yates wrote both films. As
he made a name for himself writing about
really big stuff, Yates would squeeze a
lot from this same formula as he bears the
responsibility for most of Bert
I. Gordon's giant-thingies on the
loose scripts.
If
nothing else, the film should be
recognized as the first joint project
between F/X wizard Ray Harryhausen and
producer Charles H. Schneer. Together,
they would entertain us with many fantasy
matinee yarns for years to come.
Under the wing of executive-producer --
and well known cheapskate -- Sam Katzman
for Columbia Pictures, this probably goes
a long way in explaining why the
budget-strapped octopus had six-tentacles
instead of the customary eight. And I'll
admit that this isn’t one of
Harryhausen’s best efforts. The
production also had to sneak shots of the
famous landmarks around San Francisco. I
guess the city fathers got wind that the
Golden Gate Bridge, among other things,
was destined to be destroyed in the film.
And the mayor, not realizing that the
monster was a miniature effect, believed
the bridge would suffer massive structural
damage while trying to support a giant
octopus prop and refused to issue them
filming permits. So they hid the camera in
a bread truck and drove across the bridge
a couple of times to get the shots they
needed.
Was
it worth it? Well, It
Came from Beneath the Sea
is nothing you haven't seen before, but
you could do a lot worse than spending an
afternoon with it. So crack a few brews,
think back to that great conference in
Cairo, and enjoy the show.
|
