"A REALLY INTELLIGENT INTERVIEWER." -- Lance Henriksen "QUITE SIMPLY, THE BEST HORROR-THEMED BLOG ON THE NET." -- Joe Maddrey,Nightmares in Red White & Blue
Strangely enough, Warner Bros. didn't have very much confidence in this film--a prime example of the giant, radioactive monster craze of the 1950s that would go on to be their most successful picture of 1954. It would also become one of the classics of the so-called "silver age" of horror, and one of the most fun flicks a genre fan could possibly hope for.
It was supposed to be made in full color and 3-D--two of the very popular "gimmicks" used at the time with a lot of sci-fi and horror films. However, when the studio chickened out and cut the budget, it wound up in black and white and good ol' 2-D. You can still tell with many of the shots that the 3-D influence is there, and the title card of the movie is actually in color. But despite the short-sightedness of Warner's, who apparently didn't want to take a chance on a giant bug picture, Them! turned out to be just about as good as this subgenre got in the United States.
Warner's stalwart Gordon Douglas--a proficient thriller/western director who had cut his teeth with Our Gang and Laurel and Hardy at the Hal Roach Studio--here helms what may very well be his finest film. Genre favorite James Arness--a.k.a. the original Thing from another world--stars as government agent Robert Graham, on hand to investigate the strange goings on in the desert of New Mexico. But the most sympathetic performance of all comes from James Whitmore, a fine actor who made his one big mark on genre filmdom as doomed police sergeant Ben Peterson. And of course, we have Edmund Gwenn, best known as Kris Kringle in the original Miracle n 34th Street, as ant expert Dr. Harold Medford, the proverbial old scientist with the hot daughter, here played by Joan Weldon. But let's be honest here--the real stars of Them! are the giant ants themselves. Long before the age of CGI, these massive monsters were created the old fashioned way, and the result is some of the finest creature work you're likely to see in this era. In fact, they might be the single most impressive mechanical monsters seen in American cinema prior to the rise of Stan Winston. And who could forget that unmistakable sound made by the giant ants as they approach--purportedly made using recordings of tree frogs? The ants in Them! are not only among the most impressive, but also the most downright frightening creations of the giant monster era of horror. And that's certainly one of this movie's strong suits to be sure. Them! achieves what many 1950s creature features attempted to, but didn't always succeed at: it's actually very frightening. Perhaps this owes to the unique screenplay, which kicks off as a traditional police procedural whodunit and then verges off the road into the realm of horror. It doesn't fit the usual template, and although there's a fair share of light comedy and goofiness to be sure, it is also dead serious when it needs to be. The world was preoccupied with the dangers of nuclear technology during this era, and it's no surprise that this film was released in America at the exact moment that Gojira was released in Japan. For whatever reason, someone got it into their heads that radiation would make things grow very large, and so we wound up with a rash of these giant-monster-on-the-loose epics. Think of it as Mother Nature getting her revenge against the arrogant human race for defiling her. It's a reckoning being visited on us by a natural order gone horribly awry. And what better emissaries for the natural world to send our way than cold, calculating, murderous, remorseless insects?
The fact that ants were chosen as the monsters in question certainly went a long way to making this a unique film of its kind--after all, this was at a time when the concept of giant radioactive creatures was still relatively new. The idea was originally brought to Warner Bros. in the form of a treatment by George Worthing Yates, who obviously had a great head for the genre, given that he had done the same for Sinbad the Sailor in 1947, and would later contribute stories and/or screenplays for the likes of It Came from Beneath the Sea, Earth vs. The Flying Saucers, The Amazing Colossal Man, Earth vs. The Spider and King Kong vs. Godzilla. After being filtered through TV writers Russell Hughes and Ted Sherdeman, Yates concept was polished into a jewel.
Although later very often imitated, Them! was one of the seminal entries in its subgenre, and set a standard that many later films would try to emulate, with various degrees of success. It had the perfect balance of special effects spectacle and grim terror, telling a social parable while also not being too heavy or morose. After all, this was still 1950s America, lest we forget. Warners may have been doubtful of the success of Them!, but there can be no question that in the end, that doubt was unfounded. The horror movie genre was sort of on the ropes coming out of World War II, but this film is one of several, including the likes of Creature from the Black Lagoon, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms and House of Wax, that helped put it back on the map and create another memorable era for fans of cinematic terrors. If you're a fan of Them!, or better yet, if you've never seen it before, I invite you to come down to The Bijou Theatre in Bridgeport, Connecticut this Thursday night, September 27, when I'll be hosting a screening of the film, alongside its Japanese counterpart Gojira, in a little teamup I'm calling "Nuclear Nightmares". It's all part of Bedlam at the Bijou, a three-month-long series celebrating the fifth anniversary of The Vault of Horror. Join me, won't you?
He was best known to most Americans as Marshall Matt Dillon, the lead character of Gunsmoke, a TV show he starred in for an unparalleled 20 years. But to those reading this blog, and to horror fans in general, it is likely that he is most remembered for two motion pictures in particular: the giant ant epic Them! (1954) and of course, Howard Hawks' classic The Thing from Another World (1951), in which he memorably portrayed the titular Thing. Arness was an American original, going from the wartorn battlefields of Europe, to Hollywood, to television immortality. He passed away earlier this month, just a week after his 88th birthday, but to genre fans he remains just as awe-inspiring as ever.
A big part of the awe probably came from his sheer size. The man stood 6-foot-7, which no doubt helped him land more than a few choice parts in Westerns and action films in general. Unfortunately, it also prohibited him from fulfilling his dream of serving as a naval fighter pilot in World War II, since the height limit was 6-foot-2. Nevertheless, he did serve his country gallantly, as a rifleman with the U.S. 3rd Infantry Division. In fact, he was severely wounded in battle in Anzio, Italy in January 1944, capping off a tour of duty that resulted in the Bronze Star Medal, Purple Heart, Victory Medal and Combat Infantryman Badge.
He was born James Aurness (he would later drop the "u" for Hollywood) to German and Norwegian parents on May 26, 1923 in Minneapolis. Far from the glitz and glamor of Tinseltown, his youth was spent unloading railway boxcars and logging. It was only after being honorably discharged from service in World War II at age 22, permanently injured and suffering chronic leg pain, that he first made his way to Hollywood. By putting out his thumb and hitchhiking.
After the minor name alteration, he made his screen debut in 1947 alongside Loretta Young in The Farmer's Daughter. Probably due to his size, Westerns were a no-brainer for him right off the bat, his larger-than-life presence being a perfect fit--usually for the part of the heavy. However, it would be in the early 1950s that he would land the two roles that made him into something of a minor horror icon.
In 1951, he was cast as the bizarre and terrifying plant-like creature in Howard Hawks groundbreaking sci-fi/horror gem The Thing from Another World. He doesn't speak a word in the film, and he's covered in elaborate makeup and costuming, but much like Boris Karloff and Glenn Strange before him, he manages to exude terror in spite of--or perhaps because of--these limitations. Although most consider John Carpenter's 1982 remake to have eclipsed the original to an extent, with Rob Bottin's mind-blowing special effects overshadowing the more primitive Arness incarnation of the monster, the film and his performance in it are still cherished to this day by fans of the silver age of horror.
A couple years later, he once again starred in a sci-fi/horror classic, although this time he got to actually speak. Cast as FBI agent Robert Graham, sent to New Mexico to investigate some strange goings on in the desert, his role is one of the more memorable in Gordon Douglas' Them!, a tale of gigantic ants mutated by atomic radiation. Much more frightening than its premise might indicate, Them! is a landmark of 1950s b-movie cinema, perhaps even more highly regarded than The Thing from Another World. Having appeared in both films would be quite the feather in the cap of any B-movie actor, but Arness was only getting started.
A year after Them!, he would land the part that would make him a household name--not on the big screen, but on the burgeoning boob tube. At the recommendation of none other than John Wayne, he was given the lead role in the TV series Gunsmoke. All told, he would play the role of Matt Dillon--a heroic cowboy at last--for 20 years straight, a TV record that still stands. And if you add in TV movie revivals in the 1980s and 1990s, he played Dillon in five different decades.
Arness would ride the Gunsmoke train for the remainder of his career, before finally retiring in his 70s. His legacy firmly established, he would always be known as one of the most beloved of the TV cowboys--perhaps the most beloved of them all. And yet anyone who grew up a horror and sci-fi fan in the atomic era will likely remember him best as that hulking silhouette in the corridors of an antarctic research base. James Arness is no longer with us, but The Thing, as we discovered, never truly dies.
There's a chill in the air. The warmth of summer has decidedly past. The leaves are turning. There's no doubt about it. As it does every year, nature is turning against us. Only lucky for us, we'll probably all survive it, more or less. But what about those extreme circumstances--when nature takes a look at man and says, to quote the little Marie in Rocky, "Screw you, creepo!"
Well, that makes for some seriously panic-inducing horror. It's a deep-seated fear in humankind, this notion that the natural world is against us, or can snuff us out in the blink of an eye. Whether its the weather, or the myriad flora and fauna that teem on its surface, Earth is not always the safest place to be. So join us this week, both here and over at Brutal as Hell, as we take a look at our favorite "Man vs. Nature" horror films...
B-Sol on Them! (1954)
It really doesn't get much scarier than giant, radioactive ants. There have been a whole slew of films about massive insects turning on humanity, but by my estimation, the granddaddy of them all will always be Gordon Douglas' 1954 masterpiece of atomic-era creature horror--THEM!
It all starts with a little girl in the middle of the desert, frightened beyond the capacity to speak? Why, you ask? Well, because she's witnessed the massive ants trudging their way through the New Mexico desert, tearing apart the silence with that ear-splitting, unearthly chattering. From there, the grown-ups discover exactly what's got her spooked, and before you know it, all manner of scientists and military men are enlisted to stave off the very dire threat.
Them! was one of a series of films that warned against the dangers of nuclear testing. It was because of that testing that the ants grew to such gargantuan proportions and set their sights on us. Granted, that might be an unrealistic scenario, but the message is clear: It's not nice to fool with Mother Nature. Bottom line, you mess with the natural order of things at your own peril. Man saw fit to split the atom, and as a result, he's forced to pay the price for his arrogance.
Them! is one of the all-time classic horror films of the so-called "Silver Age" of the genre. And the best part about it, when you get right down to it? Still, after all these years, those ants, with their cold eyes and incessant screeching, still have the power to chill the blood.
Every now and then you find a movie that seems to have been made with you in mind. The filmmakers must have been doing research on you specifically to come up with a concept that is so unique to you and you alone. I mean, really, how could anyone know that you, say, have thing for giant bunnies attacking a small town in Arizona? Night of the Lepus, it seems, was made specifically for me.
Cole Hillman is experiencing a plague of rabbits on his Arizona ranch. When he asks resident scientists to help him out with the problem, the consequences are... well, they're just so charming. Roy and Gerry Bennett (Stuart Whitman and Janet effing Leigh) get their experimentin' on to see what they can do to help save Hillman's ranch. When they inject a single rabbit with a hormone meant to weed out the population, their daughter--proving once again that children are evil and must be destroyed--accidentally releases the rabbit into the wild.
As the rabbit runs about in the wild, it grows to an incredible size. (One thinks this could have been the progenitor of the human growth hormone, no?) It doesn't take long for this rabbit to get it on with other rabbits, as rabbits are wont to do. And the town is soon faced with a plague of super-enormous rabbits. What will our heroes do to save Arizona from this scourge of furry-faced fiends?
Yeah, you see, Night of the Lepus sounds like a piece of dookie. And you know, you'd be right to assume that's just what it is. It is, after all, about giant bunny rabbits attacking a town. But the film is also an exercise in pure amusement. Though the first forty minutes of the film are largely rabbit-less, it works well to build up suspense and make our first viewing of a killer bunny--in an old mine shaft--all the more exciting.
As the irritating child of our scientists lurks about in the mine shaft, she discovers one of our enormous bunnies viciously attacking the already-dead body of a miner. This image is complete with bright red paint-like blood smeared all over our bunny's face. It's a shining moment, my friends, and I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that I nearly fell off my couch for the laughing.
After this first viewing, we are treated to many more shots of our killer bunnies. And here's how it goes. We see regular-sized pet bunnies attacking a teeny-tiny set of this Arizona town. And trust me when I tell you there is nothing better than watching cute, furry little buggers hop all over a fake town. It's, as I said, terribly charming.
I suppose therein lies the problem. If you see it as a problem, which I, obviously, do not. This movie is not scary at all. But really, do we want it to be? Do we want to have nightmares of giant bunnies? Well, I suppose, yes, the best of us do want that, but the point is in the joy of the affair and not the terror. You'll laugh. You'll cry. Oh what a time you'll have. After all, who doesn't love a movie that includes this line: "Attention! Attention! Ladies and gentlemen, attention! There is a herd of killer rabbits headed this way and we desperately need your help!"
While not a horror film, The Edge (1997) is man vs. nature at its best. Starring Anthony Hopkins and Alec Baldwin, it is a tale of survival, jealousy, and betrayal - with a heaping handful of adventure and some fairly gruesome sequences tied in.
Charles (Hopkins), a brilliant yet reserved billionaire, makes a trip to Alaska to accompany his fashion model wife Mickey (Elle Macpherson, not straying too far from type, obviously) on a photo shoot. It’s obvious from the get-go that she and her principal photographer Bob (Baldwin) share more than just a work-oriented relationship, and when Charles and Bob go further north with another assistant, Steven (LOST’s Harold Perrineau), and a bush pilot to look for a better vantage point for the shoot, things become strained. It’s quickly evident that while helpless and abandoned in the woods, Bob considers it a fantastic time to quite possibly just kill Charles so he can return and continue to woo the old money-bags’ wife and walk into some easy money.
When the plane crashes, killing the pilot and leaving the other three men stranded deep in the Alaskan wilderness, true colors are shown and tempers flare. Adding to the already distressing condition of simply being left in the wild with your enemy and dealing with the harsh weather conditions, they have the dreadful misfortune of pissing off a 1500 pound Kodiak grizzly bear with terrifying results.
At first, Charles tries to reassure the men with his book-smart acumen, telling them all will be fine, and they will simply walk out of the woods if no one comes for them. But as time goes by without rescue, they start walking in circles and they meet up with not only the man-killing bear (several heart-pounding times) but with hunger, disorientation, and blame, it becomes a struggle to stay alive and recognize who the true enemy really is.
A thrilling adventure, The Edge also has the added benefit of being scored by the late great Jerry Goldsmith - and it’s a positively superb accompaniment. Well acted and all-too realistic (yeah, Bart the Bear did his own stunts!), The Edge should find an audience with horror fans looking for some survival frights - it certainly has more than enough of that to go around.
Vault contributor Paige MacGregor on Jaws (1975)
It is an undeniable fact that then 28-year-old Steven Spielberg’s first major motion picture, Jaws, changed the face of film forever. The film cost approximately $8 million to produce and became the first summer “blockbuster”, making $7 million during its opening weekend alone. The movie is best known for the iconic great white shark that terrorizes a small New England island community called Amity, but it isn’t the shark that makes Jaws my favorite “man vs. nature” horror film.
I hadn’t been exposed to many horror films when I first saw Jaws, and I have to admit that the movie really freaked me out. It would be years before I watched something like Hostel and became accustomed to the amount of blood and gore is frequently featured in contemporary horror movies, and for that reason Jaws seemed pretty gruesome those first few times I watched it. Of course, the really freaky part of Jaws is the fact that viewers can’t see the shark for the majority of the film (due to technical malfunctions with the robotic shark, “Bruce”, which prevented cameramen from capturing many of Spielberg’s planned shots), and as a result of this technique in combination with the film’s infamous soundtrack suspense builds, ultimately creating the movie’s reputation as an iconic “man vs. nature” picture.
I continue to watch Jaws time and time again not because of the shark, however, but based on the performances given by the film’s main cast: Roy Scheider (The French Connection, SeaQuest 2032) as Amity police Chief Martin Brody, Richard Dreyfuss (Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Mr. Holland’s Opus) as Marine scientist and shark expert Matt Hooper, and especially Robert Shaw’s (From Russia with Love, The Sting) portrayal of the old sea salt shark hunter Sam Quint. Between Quint’s repeated rendition of “Spanish Ladies” and the interesting and often comedy-ridden dialogue and interactions that arise from three disparate men sharing a common goal—to kill the man-eating shark—I can’t decide if I’d rather have Quint, Hooper, and Brody as three crazy uncles (okay, maybe two uncles and a cousin) or as beer-drinking, shark-hunting buddies.
Regardless, the scene from Jaws that will forever be emblazoned in my mind is Quint’s monologue about the sinking of the USS Indianapolis: “Sometimes that shark he looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. And, you know, the thing about a shark... he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes.” Thankfully, Spielberg’s initial plan to cast Sterling Hayden (Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, The Godfather) as Quint fell through because of some issues between Hayden and the Internal Revenue Service and Robert Shaw was brought on board to play the veteran. It’s not often that a single scene makes or breaks an entire film for me, but when it comes to Jaws I highly doubt that I’d be as devoted a fan if Scheider, Dreyfuss and Shaw weren’t cast as the three main characters. After all, can you imagine someone else saying, “You’re gonna need a bigger boat”?
* * * * * * * * * *
Join us next week for The Lucky 13, when we honor Veterans Day with a look at the horrors of war...
Another of the great post-World War II generation of actors has left us. James Whitmore, best known to horror fans as the unflappable Sgt. Ben Peterson of the classic giant ant picture Them! (1954), passed away last Friday at the age of 87.
In addition to his role in Them!, Whitmore also starred in the beloved Twilight Zone episode "On Thursday We Leave for Home", and one of his last film roles came in 1997 in the monster flick The Relic.
After a few years in Hollywood, Whitmore became known mainly as a TV and B-movie actor of the 1950s and 1960s. He did extensive work on stage as well, including the show Give 'Em Hell Harry, in which he played the title part of President Harry S. Truman. In fact, his starring turn in the 1975 motion picture version earned him an Oscar nomination for Best Actor.
Many younger fans best remember Whitmore for his memorable supporting performance as Brooks in The Shawshank Redemption (1994). I'll also never forget his starring role in the 1986 TV production of Arthur Miller's All My Sons.
Frank Darabont, who was honored to direct Whitmore in both Shawshank and The Majestic (2001), sent in a heartwarming remembrance of the actor to Ain't It Cool News, which you can read here.