The She-Creature

Dr. Carlo Lombardi (Chester Morris), a carnival hypnotist hypnotises Andrea (Marla English) into reliving earlier incarnations: a 17th century Irish maiden and a monstrous primordial creature that Andrea's transmigrating spirit can make corporal. The nonsensical plot plays on the then popular 'Bridey Murphy' story (a supposedly true example of hypnotic regression) and tacks on a monster for the drive-in crowd. Although the 'science' is negligible and ludicrous, the implication that the creature is an aquatic form of paleo-human makes the otherwise mystical horror film borderline science-fiction (IMO). The distaff creature is probably monster-maker (and wearer) Paul Blaisdel's best work: a scaly, buxom monster sporting a prominent 'vagina dentata' on her abdomen. Much of the film is about control: Lombardi (who dresses like comic-book hero 'Mandrake the Magician') has hypnotic control over Andrea (who loathes him), and indirectly over the creature, Timothy Chappel (Tim Conroy) is a wealthy capitalist who tries to control Lombardi with money, and scientist-hero Dr. Ted Erickson (representing rationality) pushes Andrea to defy Lombardi and rejects Chappell's money (both directly and by turning down the advances of the crass industrialist's socialite daughter). Despite the dominant muliebral she-creature (who is endowed like the Venus of Willendorf (at least in the posters)), the film is far from a feminist statement: only love for a man frees Andrea from thralldom. Other than the memorable monster suit, the film is hokey and ridiculous and has little to offer anyone other than diehard fans of schlocky sci-fi/horror films (and perhaps the occasional pop-media scholar or slumming Freudian).

In the 1940s, Chester Morris and Tom Conway were reasonably successful and respected actors. Both made B series films (Boston Blackie and The Falcoh respectively) as well as A and B films...quite a few of them. But by the mid-1950s, both these actors were having problem finding roles on TV or films...and they were sadly reduced to acting in a schlocky film like this. Fortunately for Morris, he still had a few good projects in him (such as "The Great White Hope") but Conway would soon become a pathetic guy without work, a home as well as broken health. A sad end for a very good actor.

In this film, Chester Morris plays Dr. Lombardi--a stage hypnotist with amazing powers. He is able to exert amazing power over people and claims to even be able to use age regression to bring out a physical manifestation...in essence, a monster. As for Conway, he plays Timothy Chappel, a guy who wants to exploit Lombardi's reputation in order to strike it rich. Little does he know that Lombardi's Svengali-like powers are real...and he's a very dangerous man.

Apart from looking at how beautiful Lombardi's muse (Marla English) is, there isn't a lot of positive things to say about this cheap film. The monster, in particular, is pretty comical looking...and instead of instilling fear in the audiences watching the movie, it likely just elicited laughter. Plus, nothing about this film even seems scary...just kind of silly.

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!

One from "The Arkoff Library" released as R2 DVD exclusives and a film I was intrigued by after viewing its trailer in view of the theme (reincarnation-by-hypnosis inspired, as was Roger Corman's similarly fanciful THE UNDEAD [1957], by THE SEARCH FOR BRIDEY MURPHY [1956]) and the cast (led by old hands Chester Morris and Tom Conway). The former as the villainous hypnotist gets a chance to ham it up, but the latter is rather wasted as Morris' host and subsequently business manager (incidentally, their roles were originally to have been played by Edward Arnold and Peter Lorre respectively!); also involved are Ron Randell as a dour Police Lieutenant and Hollywood's idea of a comic-relief Swede, El Brendel (another relic of a by-gone era), as Conway's manservant. Apparently, Morris is able to take his subject as far back to the beginning of time where the titular creature emerged from the sea to kill(?!); of course, he cannot resist bringing it back again to do his evil bidding…that is, until the girl concerned falls for (and learns to resist his will thanks to) a rival yet much younger 'practitioner'. Actually, the design of the monster (looking a bit like the gill-man from Universal's "Creature From The Black Lagoon" series) is quite effective and the film as a whole (anticipating in its carnival/watery setting Curtis Harrington's decidedly more poetic debut feature NIGHT TIDE [1961]), though hardly essential genre fare, is somewhat more tolerable than I was expecting it to be – given a less-than-stellar reputation. Still, the constant hypnosis sessions for the benefit of Conway's would-be jaded guests do become repetitive after a while...

A woman in a hypnotic trance allows a worker of psychological magic to bring forth a she-creature from the sea that kills to makes his predictions of death come true. The movie put me in a trance! Slow does not describe the pacing of this film. It moves not at the pace of a snail but more like the weathering effect on mountains that takes thousands and thousands of years. The film, despite its lethargic, morphine-injected story-telling, has its finer points(And no, I am not talking about Marla English here .....yet!). First of all, I liked Chester Morris in his role. I seem to be a minority here, but I thought this was a rare opportunity to see a pretty good actor from a bygone era. Morris essayed the role of the Bat in The Bat Whispers in 1931 as well as played Boston Blackie numerous times. Sure, he's a thick slice of ham, but a fun slice of ham to watch....to a degree. After awhile the lines with little conviction and the overly tight-lipped face get to be a bit of a strain. But at the very least he has some acting skill...which cannot be said of too many others in the film. Yeah, Tom Conway can act...sometimes, but his role is of little importance and he has little to do. The scene where he is ...well, not to give it away...shall we say "taken care of" is a real hoot as it looks just so unbelievable. Lance Fuller? I've seen walls create more depth of character than he musters in what can only be called a "dead" performance. He's alive, but sometimes you just don't know for sure. He registers almost no emotion, no conviction in his lines, nor does he illicit any feeling from the viewer toward him. The rest of the actors are not much better. The guy playing the Polish butler was absurd as was the policeman with the tough guy routine. What about Marla English? She plays the hypnotized girl that allows the She-creature to rise from the sea. Well, she is not much of an actress, but what she can do to a sweater....certainly one of the higher peaks...points of the film. The she-creature? Well, it's nothing horrifying. Nothing terrible, yet the costume created by Paul Blaisdell deserves its admiration. It is a creative outfit like nothing else I have ever seen. But the monster walks/hobbles through the sand with the agility of an octagenarion, thus creating no menace but rather a burning desire for a tube of ben gay and a bottle of geritol!