The She-Creature

THE SHE-CREATURE (1956) is certainly one of the more interesting monsterific creations of Paul Blaisdell but the film suffers from a pace slower than death itself and characters as cardboard as a Hallmark card. The idea is perhaps lifted from the Bridey Murphy story wherein a woman is placed under a major hypnotic trance and made to revert to former lives. In this one, the heroine goes all the way back to her prehistoric past and becomes the title creature, complete with scales, Stone Age hooters, a tail and back with Godzilla-like plates. THE SHE-CREATURE must be seen to be believed. This is American-International Pictures, which cranked out a lot of great matinee fun but this monster just about tops them all. A hopelessly inept Chester Morris is terrible as the hypnotist and the cast proceeds at a funereal pace. See it for the monster, it's the only reason to bother!

This movie is, of course, artistically bankrupt. It is artless, tedious and frankly illogical. It is, however, rather watchable in an odd sort of way... Not quite in the Plan 9 fashion, where you're left laughing all the time, because the production values here aren't all that bad for the time. The "She Creature", whilst a risible concept, looks quite impressive, given a bit of disbelief-suspension - vital for any true lover of film, of course. 'Tis a shame the creature moves so slow as to make anyone killed by it look utterly pathetic.

The plot is a mixture of clichéd horror and cut-price hypnotism, a concern which you can tell was topical in 1956. It has some interesting areas which are largely unexplored: the big-business involvement with the good Dr Lombardi could have made for some reasonable drama and comedy. This missed opportunity is far from the worst thing about the story; the relationship between Marla English's Andrea and both Lombardi and Erickson is abysmally written. We are presented with scenes that stutter on for days between Lombardi and Andrea; scenes that say nothing new at all, as we knew right from the start about Andrea's dilemma. Even worse is the abrupt, tiresomely predictable "romance" between Andrea and Erickson. The acting is devoid of charisma, humour and often even the vaguest physical or emotional expression. Perhaps these marionettes would make good human-fodder in a Ballardian concept, but they really wouldn't have the poise to achieve that.

Lance Fuller gives a kind of unintended, minimalist-hammy performance as the sceptic-type Dr Erickson. You frankly end up rooting for Lombardi, such is the unfounded, uncalled-for smugness of the 'rational' Erickson. Cathy Downs' character only shows interest in him due to the constraints of genre convention. Erickson's battle of wills with Lombardi over Andrea's mind and the only intended humour, which comprises scenes of the house-servants, are some of the feeblest, most cringe-worthy scenes in the annals of cinema.

The crucial figure is that of the sole experienced and professional actor in the film, Chester Morris, who seems to know how to handle this ludicrous material, by playing it deadly seriously. He actually gives an effective portrayal of a taciturn, smalltime showman who isn't quite as clever as everyone is endlessly saying. Morris's range of expressions is ridiculously small, reduced to a permanent frown, and, on second thoughts, perhaps some wry humour and flamboyance would have lifted the film, if even been out of character. He does, after all, sport the archytypal villain's moustache and black cape - so often found in the ripest stage and film melodramas.

It really is 'against all odds' - as a Mr Collins once crooned - that this film is fun to watch. Perhaps it is the black-and-white photography that lends it some atmosphere. Indeed the film, if you suspend your disbelief, works on a 1950s B-Movie level, without ever threatening to reach the heights of that genre. Most of the fun is in observing these hapless, smug characters - only just managing to keep within some rather ropey genre conventions - and finding the unintended mirth in what they say and do. So, worth watching - it is mercifully brief by latterday measures - but do keep expectations very low!

Powerful, resentful and diabolically clever hypnotist Carlo Lombardi (deliciously played with lip-smacking suave menace by Chester Morris) puts his beautiful lady assistant Andrea (the strikingly lovely Marla English) under his evil spell and causes her to transform into a hideously ugly, scaly, clawed murderous prehistoric she beast (famed 50's monster make-up maven Paul Blaisdell in a fabulously funky rubber suit) which bumps off people he hates. Moreover, Lombardi joins forces with equally amoral greedy rick jerk Timothy Chappel (a nicely wicked portrayal by Tom Conway) so he can achieve fame and fortune predicting the next killing. Boy, is this one enjoyably cruddy low-budget 50's creature feature schlock horror hoot! It's got all the usual bad film vices (or are they virtues?) which make this kind of dross so entertainingly awful: blah direction, incredibly slow pacing, chintzy cinematography, some very poor acting (Lance Fuller as Lombardi's rival gives a performance that's so flat and wooden you can use it as a diving board), a hokey script, a seedy seaside California location, blundering idiot cops, lousy dialogue, a laughably sluggish'n'shambling monster that's more silly than scary, and a rousing cornball spacey'n'spooky score. A bit dull and talky in spots, but overall still loads of delectably cheesy B-horror fun.

This 1950's horror flick, starring Marla English (she was a poor man's Elizabeth Taylor) had much potential, but unfortunately that potential was wasted. The She Creature, a creation of fabulous monster maker Paul Blaisdell, was actually a scary looking creation. For some inexplicable reason the makers of this movie did not show the creature very often. The plot is pretty predictable; Marla portrays Andrea, a young woman under the spell of a slimy hypnotist/con man, portrayed by Chester Morris. Tom Conway is his usual hammy self as a man who is bankrolling the evil Dr. Lombardi. Of course we have to have a young hero to come save the beautiful maiden, and that part was played by Lance Fuller, in a drop dead dull performance...did the man have botox injections in his face, or what? He never changes expression throughout the movie. This movie was made when the whole Bridey Murphy reincarnation phase was popular, and the makers of the film want us to believe that we apparently didn't evolve from apes, but we evolved from some weird half lobster, half reptilian creature from the ocean...don't ask. The movie plods along with various killings that are orchestrated by Dr. Lombardi to get publicity for his show...again, the premise had promise, but it just seems to drag on and on. The Creature rarely appears, and when it does, the killings are more funny than scary. This isn't the worst of the 1950's monster movies, but it could have been so much more than what it was, which is a shame.

Definitely a waste of talent and film. Many people had been waiting years to see Boston Blackie (Chester Morris) and The Falcon (Tom Conway) on screen together. Unfortunately, they got this piece of trash.

To make a long story short, hypnotist Morris fills the room of a local club every night with his predictions of death. To make it happen, he hypnotizes the beautiful Marla English (who does things with sweaters that would rival any of today's starlets) and regresses her to a past life. Of course, this produces the she-creature, a monstrosity with scales, a tail (or tale) and breasts that rampages around a lake resort, somehow getting the drop on unsuspecting people.

Tom Conway keeps Morris on because he likes seeing his resort packed (if you think this is ghoulish, think of all the people who paid to see Lennox Lewis and Mike Tyson just hoping to see Iron Mike bite of a body part).

The only interesting part of this schlock is Paul Blaisdell's creature. It does look authentic, but the suit was way too bulky and the actor inside could only walk at a snail's pace. So, the fact that the creature took people by surprise was all the more unbelievable. The best scene was when the creature somehow sneaks inside a bungalow, surprises a guest reading a book and forcefully folds the bed up into the wall closet. Unfortunately, it wasn't a fold up bed and there was no wall closet, at least beforehand.

Chester Morris hams it up badly. Tom Conway is so wooden you will almost cheer when he unwittingly becomes part of a prediction. Marla English is great, but that's only because she mostly lies flat on her back in a trance or just shows off tight sweaters and skirts. Leading man Lance Fuller is so stiff, he could have been used as a table. He was way better as the brooding alien Brak in the classic "This Island Earth."

The only redeeming value is that somebody remade this in the late 60's and the remake was so bad it makes the original look decent.