L'Homme qui rétrécit

This movie, with it's silly 1950's title, is a great work of the mind as it fathoms the universe. It's about a man, an ordinary man, who, after an astronomical event, begins to become smaller. Unlike so many cheesy films, his clothes don't get smaller along with him. Richard Matheson considered all the implications of a shrinking man along with all the forces that would work against him. Our power is often dictated by our size, so this man finds himself having to fear things that he previously took for granted. We can only imagine what was going to happen down the road. The sad fact that he must live in a doll's house, without hope, to be forsaken pretty much by the humans who have left him, is very depressing. There are the usual things, being chased by a cat, fighting with a spider, having objects like pencils and common pins become huge to him. The ending, however, is what puts this beyond anything that has been done since. It's a look at the hugeness of the universe and the relative tininess of our own earth in the scheme of things. It really has a positive side. This man has dignity and, while he doesn't know what is coming, he knows that the great order of the universe gives him a position in it.

I finally caught up with Jack Arnold's most highly-regarded piece of science fiction, and I have to say that I agree it's his most accomplished work.

True, the plot isn't terribly original (how about THE DEVIL-DOLL [1936], which I watched again right after, and DR. CYCLOPS [1940], for starters, not to mention the 'little people' of BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN [1935]?) but none of the others quite touched upon the psychology of its admittedly fantastic situation, let alone treat it with such intelligence, sensitivity and, ultimately, persuasion. Legendary author Richard Matheson is to be congratulated for his truly excellent script, as should be Arnold for putting his ideas on the screen with such vividness and imagination. Special mention must go too to Grant Williams for his fine performance; Jack Arnold seemed to think it was worthy of an Oscar and I can't say I disagree!

It was interesting to see that the title character's peculiar affliction effected him gradually and not all at once; the fact that this was caused by exposure to radiation must have struck a note of panic amid contemporary anxiety-ridden audiences (this was the Cold War era, after all) and, in any case, it was inevitable that such 'monstrous' radiation effects (as seen mutating various forms of animal life on the screens of 1950s America) would not spare man himself in the long run. An episode featuring sideshow midgets, with whom The Shrinking Man seems to identify for a little while, is quite moving - as is his jealous possessiveness of his wife who he suspects wants to abandon him.

Despite the low budget, the film's special effects are terrific and the second half of the story basically resolves itself into a struggle for survival for our unfortunate hero as he has to battle various elements (the family cat, a spider, water, the re-dimension of objects around him, his own weakness due to hunger) which a normal person would more or less take for granted.

I thoroughly enjoyed THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN - though I must say that Matheson's bleak yet strangely affecting ending blew me away, giving the film an intellectual resonance lacking in most films of its type and period.

What a fantastic film this is: Richard Matheson's finest feature-length script is like the best of his Twilight Zone episodes, both wonderfully imaginative and thoughtfully philosophical at once.

It begins in bland, generic, white picket fenced 1950s America and ends in deep contemplation of the infinite, and along the way becomes unmoored from all reference points from the age in which it was made, as the protagonist himself has every thing familiar to him progressively stripped away and he is reduced to the most raw, primal, archetypal battle for survival.

The actor Grant Williams never did anything of any real note again, but here, in his continually deepening suffering, he moves into a glowing, timeless space that would not look out of place in any Bergman film. It's a performance for the ages.

The Incredible Shrinking Man is a rare, unique work and by far my favourite of all those 1950s sci-fi and monster movies.

Along with "invasion of the body snatchers"(1956) "forbidden planet"(1956) and "the fly" (1958),the best movie sci-fi offered in the fifties.

Richard Matheson's remarkable novel was adapted by himself,thus the movie is an accurate rendition.Differences are kept to the minimum,and are probably due to censorship:one character,the pedophile,who wants to take the hero to his home has been removed and the relationship with Clarice remains platonic.Besides,Matheson focuses here on the second part of his novel,which takes place in the basement.

The special effects are absolutely stunning for the time ,but what's the most extraordinary is that they take a back seat to the hero's frames of mind:the voice-over is never redundant and Matheson's brilliant lines,a thousand miles above the B-movie level,perfectly convey his hero's plight."Arachnophobia"(1990),with a much more comfortable budget pales into insignificance when you've seen Grant Williams'fight with the spider.The doll house,the scenes with the midgets,the metaphysical final are as awesome today as they were half a century ago.Do not miss the cast and credits at the beginning either. During its second half,except for the voice-over,the movie is almost silent and Jack Arnold sustains the interest with only one character.

With its inexorable progression -the hero slowly becoming on his own-,its first-class screenplay and a fine direction by Jack Arnold,who could ask for a remake? This movie and the three I mention above are genuine classics,they have in common fears hidden in collective unconscious.

Instead of the typical blood and gore screaming sensationalism of many 1950s sci-fi films, this is an amazingly well thought-out film that is underplayed and even philosophical.

There are some amusing moments in the film, such as when we discover Scott in a dollhouse, but much of the story is handled seriously -- the topics of being different, surviving in an unsympathetic world, crass commercialism, and loneliness are well portrayed.

The theme of the film is what is really amazing. Despite the rather schlocky title, we are given a view of humanity's place in the universe. The final sequence is an imaginative portrait of the balance between the macrocosm and the microcosm.

The film is more than it first appears. Definitely see this one.