It's Godzilla's betentacled cousin!

It Came From Beneath the Sea (1955)
Starring: Kenneth Tobey, Faith Domergue, Don Curtis, and Chuck Griffiths
Director: Robert Gordon
Rating: Six of Ten Stars

A giant octopus-like sea monster rises from the deepest canyons of the Pacific Ocean to attack experimental nuclear submarines and the San Francisco waterfront.

A bit slow-moving by modern standards, this is nonetheless a fine example of the "giant sea-monster runs amok due to the radiation from atomic bomb tests" that was kicked off by "The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms" and "Gorjira" (aka "Godzilla").

The main attraction of the film is, of course, the rampaging creation, which is "octopus-like" because it actually only has six arms. It's not bad as far as these movies go, particularly during the sequence where it's tearing down the Golden Gate Bridge. According to movie legend, the notoriously budget-conscious producer Sam Katzman only gave animator Ray Harryhausen enough time and money to build a six-armed creature. (I suspect there are many execs at present-day Warner Bros., Disney, Universal, and Sony Pictures [formerly Columbia] who would give their right arms for someone like Katzman or Mario Bava to come back from the dead and share their methods for making good looking movies on the cheap with the current crop of big spending producers and directors.)

As for the human cast, the acting and characters are typical for a 1955 sci-fi flick. The most interesting character in the film, especially considering its vintage, is Dr. Lesley Joyce, played by Faith Domergue. While early in the film she seems to be mooning over her male scientific colleague and rival early in the film, and ultimately shifts her affections to a submarine commander, unlike most women characters of this period finding a hubby and giving up her career in exchange for staying home and having kids and mixing his martinis at night. Domergue's character is strong-willed without being shrewish and career-oriented without being frigid--as her final lines of the film drive home when she puts off a romantic advance by Kenneth Tobey's naval officer by stating that they can continue when she's back from her long-time planned scientific expedition to the Nile river.

Although the budgetary constraints are occasionally evident--I really think Katzman and Gordon's vision for the Golden Gate bridge sequence mixing live action actors with animated monster mayhem outstripped the money and time at their disposal--this is still a film that's well worth the time of anyone who enjoys 1950s sci-fi flicks.

'Attack of the Giant Leeches' is boredom

Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959)
Starring: Ken Clark, Jan Shepard, Yvette Vickers, Bruno VeSota and Gene Roth
Director: Bernard L. Kowalski
Rating: Three of Ten Stars

A small town located on the edge of a swamp and inhabited primarily by unpleasant hicks is menaced by giant leeches. Will the studly game warden (Clark)--one of three citizens with a double-digit IQ--save the day?

"Attack of the Giant Leeches" is one of those movies where the various characters can't get eaten by the monsters soon enough. This is partly because they're portrayed by second-rate actors delivering badly written dialogue, but also because the film is just plain boring.

The movie reaches its high point when the local shopkeeper (Bruno VeSota) chases his wife (the town slut, played by Yvette Vickers) into the swamp after catching her with one of her lovers. There's some genuine tension and suspense in that scene, and it's the only bit that materializes in the entire movie.


(Later scenes might have had some suspense to them, but it's ruined by the fact the "giant leeches" are obviously plastic and their suckers look more like eyes than suckers. They effect is not one of horror but one of goofiness.)

There is one important lesson to be taken from this film: If you think you are hearing an angry leopard or wildcat while wandering through a swamp, it's probably just the mating cry of a giant leech.

I suppose, in fairness, I should acknowledge the fact that the movie lets us oogle a sexy chick getting dressed as her slobby husband oogles her getting dressed. I guess that's a little bit of entertainment value right there.



(Although it did make me wonder: Do most women really put their shoes on before they've even finished putting on the rest of their clothes? It seems like they always do it that way in the movies....)

Did America start going down hill when ukuleles stopped being cool?

The Giant Gila Monster (1959)
Starring: Don Sullivan, Fred Graham, Lisa Simone, Shug Fisher, Don Flournoy and Bob Thompson
Director: Ray Kellogg
Rating: Four of Ten Stars

A marauding lizard the size of a battleship starts wrecking trains and eating people in a small Texas town. Can the kindhearted but slightly inept sheriff (Graham) and the clean-cut, hardworking leader of the local gang of teenaged hot-rodders (Sullivan) stop the monster before it's too late? (Well, before it's too late for anyone NOT yet eaten by it.)


No one will mistake "The Giant Gila Monster" for even the "The Giant Claw", but as far as low budget 1950s monster flicks go, it's not that bad. In fact, I might even go so far as to say that it's gotten a bad rap to some extent.

The script and the film's pacing is tighter and the characters better developed than what you find in most films like this. The film gets straight to the point, and it moves through the story steadily until the climax, with no filler or pointless side trips. (Well, other than the three songs performed by our singing teenaged hero while strumming his ukulele. Those could have been shortened somewhat and the film would have been stronger for it.)

Actually, it's the more well-rounded characters that truly set this film apart for others similar to it. There's more to the film than a simple monster bash, as we actually have subplots and characters showing thoughts and emotions beyond what is necessary for a perfunctory monster bashing story. We have the obnoxious rich guy's concern for his missing son and the illustration of how he uses his power in a desperate attempt to locate and control him; we have the almost impossibly clean-cut teenaged hero's efforts to support his family and his polio-stricken sister while still maintaining his hot rod and being the cool kid with his friends AND trying to start a career as a singer; and we have the sheriff who struggles to balance law and order with a self-appointed role as shepherd of the small Texas town he serves.

There's also some very well done miniature sets used to create the illusion of a rampaging giant lizard, sets matched carefully to their real-world counterparts and filmed with great skill. The end result is actually better than what you find in many movies from this period and even up until recent years, prior to the advances in digital animation.

All the good parts of the film can't quite make up for its weaknesses, weaknesses born from the low budget and which are painfully obvious.

There is not a single scene where any character in the film is shown in a shot with the giant lizard--such trick photography or the cost of building a giant lizard tail, paw, or head was clearly beyond the means of director Kellog and his crew. And there is a train-wreck scene that begs to show panicked survivors scrambling away from the monster. Similarly, there are repeated references to nearby oil fields, but the monster never goes and trashes them, another sign of budget constraints, I assume. And these same budget problems lead to a very unimpressive demise for the creature, despite the fact it involves a car crash AND a fiery explosion.

All in all, not a terrible movie, but still one that doesn't quite live up to what it could have been.