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Review
by
Brian Lindsey
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5
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5 |
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10
= Highest Rating |
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Creaky
and very old fashioned (even for 1957), The
Unearthly features the venerable John Carradine
essaying yet another mad scientist role —
one of thousands he played during his long career.
(Okay, so I'm exaggerating a bit. But not much.)
Even ol' John isn't enough to guarantee a good
time, of course, so it's fortunate that the flick
also has cult fave Tor (Plan
9 from Outer Space) Johnson in the cast. Toss
in some ludicrous dialog with a smidgen of Allison
Hayes (the '50-foot Woman' herself) and you've
got an amusing "So Bad It's Good" pic that somehow
manages to succeed despite itself. Some amusing
continuity errors and the short running time don't
hurt, either.
Dr. Charles Conway
(Carradine) maintains a secluded, private medical
clinic, "20 miles from civilization," where
he treats patients for various forms of depression.
This is only a cover, of course, as his real aim
is the perfection of a synthetic '17th Gland'
that will bestow eternal life to humans. His patients
—
selected for their lack of family ties and living
relatives —
are merely guinea pigs for his illegal experiments.
So far none of these experiments have turned out
very well, leaving the frustrated doc with a cellar
full of freaks and mutants. But, aided by his
icy assistant Dr. Sharon Gilchrist (Marilyn Buferd),
he's determined to keep trying. Enter Grace (the
buxom Ms. Hayes), a young woman who's come to
Conway for help. She's afraid all the time, she
explains; of just what, she doesn't know. Showing
more than just medical interest in his new patient,
Conway smoothly assures her that he can successfully
treat her condition.
On the night of
Grace's arrival a man is caught skulking about
the clinic garden by Conway's giant, feeble-minded
servant Lobo (Johnson, of course). The intruder
(Myron Healy) claims to be Mark Houston, a hitchhiker
who got lost in the dark. Conway deduces that
Houston is in fact Frank Scott, an escaped convict
wanted for murder. Confronting him with this fact,
the doctor offers 'Mark' sanctuary if he'll perform
certain tasks for him. Houston agrees, playing
along by posing as a new patient when he meets
Grace and the other two people whom Conway is
treating, airheaded Natalie (1957 Playboy Playmate
Sally Todd) and hyper-paranoid Danny (Arthur Batanides).
Conway, assuming he has Houston under his thumb,
confides to him the true nature of his experiments
and the fate of his patients. He actually plans
to use the escaped convict as his first volunteer,
promising him every precaution will be taken to
assure success. But Houston isn't a convict at
all —
he's an undercover cop, sent in to investigate
the mysterious disappearances linked to the clinic.
Conway's keeping him on a short leash, however,
with the hulking Lobo as enforcer. Can Mark stop
the mad doctor in time before he and the others
are turned into hideous monsters?
The Unearthly
is a cheap potboiler recycling well-worn themes
from 'poverty row' horror flicks of the '40s.
Virtually the entire film takes place in a single
location (the clinic); aside from a few extra
cops and the creatures in the basement (who aren't
seen until the final few minutes), the cast consists
of only 9 actors. It's talky and offers little
in the way of thrills, suspense or action. So
is there anything to like here? The scenery-chewing
Carradine, for one, who's the same cranky mad
scientist with the booming voice you can see in
a host of other flicks... only here, unlike stuff
he appeared in from the mid-'60s until his death
in 1988, he isn't decrepit and hobbled with arthritis.
(I still think Carradine must've been middle aged
when he was born. He's only about 50 in this one
yet looks ready to draw Social Security.) Then
there's lovable Tor Johnson, B-cinema's all-time
greatest bald, 300-pound henchman with the brain
of a chicken. Tor gets two lines of dialog in
The Unearthly ("I
found him in the garden"; "Time for go
to bed!"), rather mundane mutterings rendered
unforgettable by virtue of his inimitable delivery.
The really choice howlers in the script are given
to Carradine ("He came a puny, broken man —
now he possesses the strength of a Hercules!")
and Healy ("So now you've got yourself an overgrown
moron for a pet, hmm?"); their straight-faced
seriousness makes them all the more funny. And
Allison Hayes, though a limpid wallflower throughout,
is always nice to look at.
Featured on an early
episode of the cult comedy show Mystery Science
Theater 3000, The Unearthly
provided ample cannon fodder for those basic cable
cut-ups. However, any true cheese connoisseur
should have a decent time with it even sans wisecracking
robots.
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Visually
the film has never, ever looked this good since
it first unspooled in theaters during the Eisenhower
administration. Compared to murky Creature Feature
broadcasts and VHS editions, the transfer used for
the Image DVD is simply stunning.
(It's presented in anamorphic 1.66:1 letterbox format.)
Almost blemish-free, one can now actually tell what
the hell's going on whenever the action shifts briefly
outdoors. Every crag and furrow of John Carradine's
leathery countenance —
noble, yet hangdog —
is revealed with startling clarity. Unfortunately
the audio track can't match the sterling picture
quality. While dialog is strong and perfectly intelligible,
there is faint static throughout... Never really
distracting, though.
Some amusing liner notes by David Del Valle
are a nice touch, as are the chapter selection menus
which each play a different scene from the movie.
But the only attempt at a bonus feature is a laughably
small still gallery —
four images. Why bother? 9/10/02 |
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