The Mole People

The Mole Men

Director ~ Virgil W. Vogel

1956, b/w, USA

Writer ~ László Görög

Stars ~ John Agar, Cynthia Patrick, Hugh Beaumont

 

Starts with about five minutes of screen time of filler, a Professor of English Frank C. Baxter  (real) running through the history of hollow Earth in mythology. So it starts as it means to go on, and it is amazing how much feels else like padding. They spend an awful long time climbing down a hole in pursuit someone who is obviously already dead.

 

So, some archaeologists (who make anthropological deductions too) go the top of a mountain to investigate some ruins and then descend through the mountain to discover an ancient Sumerian civilisation that worship Ishtar (which apparently wasn’t a thing they did). (So if they go right at top and then go down, I’m not sure they descended enough to be below the Earth’s crust… more “hollow mountain” theory than “hollow Earth”?). The Sumerian are albino and vulnerable to intense light – making the archaeologists’ torch a religious weapon – but luckily for these stock American men, there is a Caucasian woman considered lower caste for one to fall in love with. The archaeologists masquerade as divine and use their torch as a threat to survive the Sumerians’ religious murderous inclinations whilst sitting around being all masculine. It’s up to Alan Napier as Elinu, the High priest, to add some life to proceedings with his dissent and conniving, and merely by not phoning in his part.

 

 

The Mole People, who we’ve come for, have the highlight of dragging people under into the dirt. They have agreeable clunky men-in-suit designs with memorable enough masks, and although they are apparently harvesting gigantic subterranean mushrooms (?) for food, they seem to be mostly for milling around for regular whipping. But it’s not a film to monopolise on the potential of that particular analogy.

 

Some impressive avalanche stock footage, a little commentary about hierarchies, slavery, racism and population control; but although this is loaded context and colouring, it doesn’t ultimately feel like proving much. The appeal now is in its datedness and silliness, its ambition far exceeding its budget.  

 

 

But there are reports of a possible remake with Robert Kirkman involved, and I will consider that promising as I am big devotee of ‘The Walking Dead’ comics.

Gamera, the Giant Monster

Gamera, the giant monster

Director ~ Noriaki Yuasa

Writer ~ Niisan Takahashi

1966, Japan

Stars ~ Eiji Funakoshi, Harumi Kiritachi, Junichiro Yamashita

 

The ‘Godzilla’ template with a … giant turtle? Well okay. And this time with a sappy kid that can stop a military nuclear strike just by whining, and whose turtle fixation is near psychopathic. But anyway: Gamorah is fascinating and awkward as only a man-in-a-kaiju-suit can be, plus he cashes in with the UFO craze – I mean who anticipated a jet-propelled shell? (and how does that work??) – the black-and-white photography is vivid, especially as this is mostly a dark film, and the miniature work is often impressive as it is appealingly clunky. Despite the kid element, ‘Gamera’ mostly follows in ‘Godzilla’s footsteps as a wannabe serious evocation of post-nuclear bomb devastation, as an analogy for Japanese fear of an unstoppable force. Yet it is as blasé as American Atomic monsters as the initial nuclear explosion that wakes this kaiju doesn’t have any effect on the locals, who surely aren’t nearly far enough to be safe.

 

But consistency isn’t a thing to concern Daiei studio’s giant monster cash-in. A turtle, with tusks, fire-breathing, with aspiration of being a UFO? Typically, there was an American version with added scenes called ‘Gamera the Invincible’, but I watched the original Japanese subtitled release. Most of the dialogue is hilarious; at times, characters seem to be in different conversations, or at least out-of-synch. For example, during the opening sequence, people are talking about how nuclear testing could affect the Earth’s axis, and/or cause typhoons, where just moments before the scientist told everyone that “At this distance, we should be safe from the fallout.”

 

The film tries to have it both ways with Gamera touted as good by little, annoying Toshio (Yoshiro Uchida) even as the monster fries a club of ignorant teenagers (which is all “Hey daddy-o! Don’t try stop our party with all your giant monster destroying the cit– arggghhh!”). It makes no sense at all, etc. There is a lot of unintentional humour here, perfunctory characterisation, tonally uncertain, crisp black-and-white photography by Director of Photography Nobuo Munekawa which gives it the air of seriousness, and at times almost nightmarish. Although he’s indiscriminately destructive and murderous, no matter what Toshio protests, Gamera isn’t really so frightening as curious. Yet for all this, its very goofiness dressed up in serious aesthetic is entertaining.

 

But I couldn’t stomach ‘Gamera: Super Monster’ for more than ten minutes.

 

House of Horrors

House of Horrors

Director ~ Jean Yarbrough

Writers ~ George Bricker, Dwight V. Babcock

Stars ~ Robert Lowery, Virginia Grey, Bill Goodwin, Martin Kosleck, Rondo Hatton

 

Wait, is the title a critical opinion of out belittled artist's sculptures?

Cracking under the disillusionment brought on by bad reviews, misunderstood artist Marcel De Lange (Martin Kosleck) finds himself in possession of a serial killer The Creeper. As a kind of repayment for the kindness De Lange has shown him by taking him in when finding him washed up half dead, The Creeper happily goes out and murders those critical of De Lange’s work.

So it's a little self-referential as the screenwriters revenge on the critical backlash against the genre at the time. Setting a trend in aggrieved and desperate artist-murderers to follow in the likes of ‘Bucket of Blood’, ‘Driller Killer’, ‘Theatre of Blood’ or even ‘Blood Feast’, De Lange is quite a sad sack and sympathetic initially, unable to take the seemingly perpetual unappreciation (the scene-stealing cat helps). But he brandishes a knife even before he meets The Creeper, so it’s all set up that when he meets the Creeper and appropriates his striking visage for his “greatest work”, they are of the same stock. Kosleck plays De Lange with an elegance and articulacy that outdoes everyone else who are mostly stock types, even Virginia Grey.

However feisty and independent-seeming Grey is as go-get-‘em art critic Joan Medford, bringing fizz to proceedings, Medford still humours her boyfriend’s possessiveness and finally forfeits her autonomy for marriage.  The men are fairly interchangeable (but get top billing), although the investigating Police Lieutenant (Bill Goodwin) is a bully, happily abusing his privilege and passing sexist comments as he goes along. But then we are in the world where the law will accept the offer of liquor before quite resolving a sting operation.

Spine-snapping and strangling The Creeper is played by Rondo Hatton, a journalist whose features pronounced by acromegaly meant he went on to a brief career in screen villainy. The insensitive casting of his distinctive looks as synonymous with ugliness and villainy, as well as some objectification of women, casts an exploitation light, although the film doesn’t play that way. Nevertheless, he is unforgettable and it’s a shame that he died before the film was released and that he never got the chance to develop.

So there’s Kosleck and Hatton for eloquence and menace and Grey for loveliness and liveliness, and some sparky dialogue and distinctive sets, but there is a workmanlike feel to proceedings. Universal was going through the motions and winding down with its genre output and despite some nice shadow-work and the promise of its title, this is tame stuff. There’s none of the pre-code nastiness and troubling edges of, say, ‘Murders in the Zoo’. But it’s entertaining in an old-school horror manner and its short running time means it never outstays its welcome.