As of yesterday, I had been anxiously waiting for fifteen years to see this film, ever since I read Leonard Maltin's glowing review wherein he gives it three stars out of four, more than he gives Martin Scorsese's key masterpiece Taxi Driver. For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to solve the riddle of the exploitative gore-fest (full of blood and bouncing breasts) that Maltin could love so much. I've tried to track the film down over the years, but there was always one side of me that felt unconvinced by Maltin, one side that would fight the unhealthy urge that drove me towards the film. But now that Shout! Factory has graciously started re-releasing Corman-produced classics (such as this, Piranha, Galaxy of Terror, Forbidden World, Not of this Earth and the Slumber Party Massacre trilogy) on affordable DVDs, it was about time that I stopped searching. And so I renewed my teenage curiosity, and took a long-awaited peek at what is essentially a fun B-movie worthy of some praise for its ruthless, sex-crazed monsters but not nearly as brilliant as I had made it up to be in my wishful mind.
Surely, any horror fan can enjoy this...
Behold the quiet coastal town of Noyo where the working fishermen are struggling to find salmon to fill their nets. There's a lot of tension there stemming from work-related frustrations. Drunken sailors led by Hank Slattery (Vic Morrow) are pissed off with local Native Johnny Eagle (Anthony Pena) who in turn is pissed off against the townspeople and their project to open a cannery on what he considers to be ancestral Native grounds. Unbeknownst to all these people, the company behind the cannery project has developed a new strand of salmon to help fill the coastal waters. These salmons were injected with some sort of growth hormone that allows them to reach new heights in size and weight. But obviously, as is common in films of this ilk, it has also precipitated their "evolution" into horny fish-like humanoids with bulging brains that prey on dogs and men while raping women to create an even more advanced race of man/fish creatures.
Despite numerous flaws including an overwhelming score by Oscar-winning composer James Horner, atrocious sound-editing, wooden acting (especially from leading lady Ann Turkel who went on to do mostly TV work, including three different roles in cultish David Hasselhoff vehicle Knight Rider) and many unsatisfying, and brutally abridged plot lines, Monster manages to impress in the last act thanks to an ample serving of monsters and mayhem as well as a birth scene that could challenge Alien's authority in matters of gut-bursting. But is this last act good enough to recommend the film? Honestly, I would say that it is, especially since Shout! Factory released the thing under its original title, Monster, which constitutes the "racier" version of this cult classic, usually referred to as Humanoids from the Deep. Thus, it contains a lot of female flesh to feast your eyes upon. Be ready to see four, count 'em, four different pairs of big, naked, bouncing breasts jiggling around. Hell, there is even bush in this film, which is quite a treat considering that we weren't in the 70s anymore. But bush is nothing without gore, which is thankfully also on the menu. All over the menu in fact, as rivers of brutal gore flood the screen. As for the monster rape scenes, they're quite creepy, but too short. And pretty awkward considering how limited motion becomes for an actor in a rubber suit. These scenes seem more like excuses to show flesh than honest attempts at simulating rape. Personally, I would've elaborated on them a lot and upped the gross-out factor by crafting some sort of green drool that could drip all over the girls... but, hey, that's just me! All in all, Monster is exactly what you should expect from a Corman film: exploitative sex and violence in spades under a certain veil of respectability offered by an eco-friendly, pseudo-scientifical, but ultimately vacuous storyline.
...and this...
Here, the slowly-evolving plot is only an excuse to justify the exhilarating central scene of mayhem set in the marina during a popular celebration. In fact, every plot point seems to be abruptly abridged at this point to make way for an unforgettable showcase of bloody violence and disgusting monster suits (designed by Oscar-nominee Rob Bottin). Because although it begins as a fable about the evils of ruthless capitalism and the unethical genetic tampering of God's creatures, Monster eventually reveals its true nature as a purely exploitative genre film. The intriguing storyline concerning Johnny Eagle's decision to hire a city lawyer specialized in civil rights to defend his case against the townspeople is ultimately revealed as no more than a way to set-up one murder near his shack, then it is forgotten. The lengthy scene of scientific exposition about salmon evolution also seems like dead weight. Handled by using boring slides coupled with some pretty un-involving narration by Turkel, it seems like no more than some filler made to give an appearance of legitimacy to the bloodshed. But we all know this to be useless and counter-productive, especially in light of the fact that poor Turkel couldn't convince a child to eat an ice cream cone, let alone bring to life the subtleties inherent to her character. In the end, we are not really surprised, nor do we really care for those abandoned storylines as the final act can justify itself any day to any horror fan. Just let it bleed! Which is what happens when a boatload of salmon-creatures attacks townspeople partying on the pier. The film becomes quite generous at this point. You get twisted-off heads, ripped out skin, stabbed entrails, bloody gun wounds, burning water... all in an exhilarating symphony of frenzied editing that would make Eisenstein proud! It's a shame that the massacre doesn't start earlier. Kind of makes me think about Troma's Beware! Children at Play (1989) wherein the final massacre constitutes both a moment of anthology and the only worthy sequence of the film. Of course, Monster is not such an extreme, but it still tends to be self-defeating in narrative terms, which is not to say that it is an unsuccessful horror film. It's not. It's just not exploitative enough... from my viewpoint anyway.
That said, the makeup job here is stellar, and it is perhaps the greatest asset of the film. The monster suits, the gore, every bit of latex and syrup are used to the very best of their potential. It's just a shame that we don't get to see a monster in full view until the halfway mark, nor do we get to see elaborate gore up to that point. Only pools of blood forming on the surface of the water: nothing to write a review about... When I got to thinking, I realized that the very effectiveness of an horror film from the 80s can be most precisely measured in latex and syrup. These are the two quintessential ingredients to brew a classic of this era. Here, they play a major part in the film's success as no amount of narrative exposition or life-affirming dialogue could rightfully replace even one second of the climactic massacre. Nor could it enhance the enjoyment thereof. Plot, in an 80s gore film, is like the costume of a midget in a wrestling match. Sometimes it can, but it still rarely improves the show beyond what it already is, that is a freak show. Transcendence has no place in commercial, teenage-oriented fare. Only hormones do. And unless you can add some form of snazzy technical virtuosity (such as Argento's grandiose tracking shots, paramount of which is the one around the house in Tenebrae (1982)), biting dark humor (such as Romero's or Cohen's), solid characterization (think Fright Night, Near Dark or Stuart Gordon's films) or any such distinctive feature into the mix, the success of any given title relies almost solely on the skill of special FX artisans and the audacity of big-breasted actresses. And I bet that Leonard Maltin agrees with me.
... but this is just wrong! A fully-clothed scientist taking pictures!?!
Come on!
In the end, Monster certainly doesn't transcend the genre, nor does it fully deliver. It's a nice, short film that picks up speed as it goes, but keeps most of the goods neatly packed at the end. Its impeccable choice of women, most impressive of which is the courageous, and incredibly gorgeous Lynn Theel (who vanished from the silver screen in 1989), its progressive stance on Native rights, superb monster makeup and gallons of gore are all assets. But some very rigid characterization and a boring, over-done narrative deflates any pretension at higher goals than pure entertainment. Still, the film manages to showcase some moments of anthology, closing on a very strong note that's more of a climax than a cliffhanger.
2,5/5 A mostly hollow film that delivers the (gory, sexy) goods
