Wednesday, October 31, 2007

This Creature Isn't Two Dimensional

I recently had the chance to view a 3D print (complete with blue and red glasses) of Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) at the historic Redford Theatre in Detroit.

Thinking that the movie was strictly an excuse to showcase the 3D process, Hollywood's answer to television, I wasn't expecting much. WHile I'd never actually sat though CFTBL before, I always have KNOWN what the gill-man was all about. Growing up, his image donned countless covers of Famous Monsters of Filmland. So, it was a pleasant surprise to find that the movie holds up fairly well.

To be sure, at the screening I attended, there was plenty of audience tittering to be heard. And I suppose they had good reason:
  • As with any 3D films, there are lots of objects given gratuitous trajectories toward the camera.

  • The blues and reds of the glasses I had didn't always correspond to the blues and reds in the print which sometimes created a ghost image rather than a three dimensional one.


  • Each time the creature appeared, a wave of music (no pun) would erupt. Worse yet, it was music I'm sure I'd heard before, suggesting that it came from a studio library. My guess is that they spent so much on the gill-man suits and the 3D cameras, there was little left for an original soundtrack.

  • They used far too many shots of the creature where only his claw was visible (such as reaching through an open porthole). I'd suppose that this was easier to stage than pouring an actor into the creature suit for every setup.

  • The film falls prey (a pun this time) to the stereotype of the swooning female who always seems to collapse in just the right position to be picked up and carried away by the creature.

Having said all that, CFTBL holds its own surprising well when compared to other "B" horror flicks of the time.

First of all, in spite of a few overdone shots, the 3D work is first rate. Scenes that look pedestrian in the "flat" version take on a whole new life in 3D. The underwater sequences are staged fantastically, with random bubbles and fish floating in front of the audience.

Directed by Jack Arnold, who also helmed The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957) and cowrote the underrated The Monolith Monsters (1957) there's a lot more going on storywise than just things springing up out nowhere to say "boo" (like ANY Jason or Freddy flick).

The onscreen relationship between David Reed and Kay Lawrence (Julie Adams, who'd still be considered sexy by today's standards) rings true (not like the silly romance between Leislie Neilson and Ann Francis in Forbidden Planet).

From their introduction as characters, though unmarried, it's clear that the two are involved in an adult "situation." We first see Reed, his bare chest still wet from an underwater dive, leaning on Kay for balance as he removes his flippers. This certainly establishes a relationship that's intimate as well as professional. A tad risque for 1954, it's treated matter-of-factly (and even referenced by other characters). Also, the flipper business with Reed leaning on Kay occurs more than once in the film and underscores the emotional support that Kay supplies for him. It turns out that Reed's a man who just can't decide when pull the trigger in his personal life (should he marry Kay?) OR professional life (should he kill the creature?).

Enter alpha male, Mark Williams (Richard Denning). He's a man who knows exactly what he wants. In this case, he wants Kay for his woman AND the gill-man's head for his trophy case (or is that the other way around, just kidding). In a perfect example of what some (not me) may see as a gratuitous 3D shot, Williams examines his spear gun and (naturally) the working end of the weapon points right at the audience. A shot so full of phallic imagery, I was tempted to have my young daughters look away.

Reed's weapon of choice, by contrast, is a fish traquilizing drug (hmm, I wonder if Kay is TOTALLY satisfied with their love life). When rigged to be dispensed underwater, it resembles a blast of talcum powder.

This brings us to the creature. I suppose the gill-man suit is a tad dated for today's more sophisticated audiences. But, I submit that until Ridley Scott's Alien, there wasn't a full-body monster costume in cinema that worked as effectively. The creature from the black lagoon is an icon for its genre. Period.

The creature is clearly taken with Kay. I could have listed this overused plot device above as a fault of the movie. But an attraction to Kay is what motivates ALL of the main characters. I think one can argue that the creature is an emotional amalgam of the two male leads (much like the title character in 1933's King Kong was a physical manifestation of Carl Denham's id).

When first encountering Kay underwater, like Reed, the gill-man is tentative. He follows her for a while before scurrying away. Later, when angered, the creature becomes more like Williams and gets violent, kills off some characters, then drags Kay away to his lair. Once the heat of battle is over, the Reed part of the creature returns and Kay is left resting on a rock untouched (well, I guess they couldn't have had the Kay and the creature rutting on screen could they?).

In the end, the gill-man, apparently mortally wounded, is allowed by Reed (ever the wimp) to return to the sea. The last shot is from the sea floor pointing up at the creature floating down toward the audience, it's fate uncertain. The ending was left deliberatly open to allow for a possible sequel (pretty farsighted in a pre Jason/Freddy era).

I've heard about a 90 million dollar remake of CFTBL due out in 2008. I hope the price tag doesn't mean that it's going to be ALL about the creature.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I just hope that the remake doesn't revolve around selling 13" figurines of the creature as part of the movie merchandise. They should look at Peter Jackson's King Kong for inspiration.

Matt Maul said...

My only problem with the latest King Kong was Jack Black. He just didn't seem to have the chops to pull off such a complicated part (IMHO).