KRONOS (1957)Directed by Kurt Neumann
Starring:
Jeff Morrow - Dr. Leslie Gaskell
Barbara Lawrence - Vera Hunter
George O'Hanlon - Dr. Arnold Culver
John Emery - Dr. Hubbell Eliot
KRONOS opens with a shot of the New Mexican night sky, some appropriately unearthly Theremin music to get us in the mood, and a light streaking across the star-littered heavens. Cut to a shot of a lone truck humming along peacefully through a pleasant desert night. Alone. With soft, twangy music playing. Then as now, this spells alien invasion and death of local yocal. Sure as hell, a light flashes, streaks, and envelops the driver’s face in a very nicely done effect, and we are off to the races. An alien presence has possessed the driver, as one can easily tell by the blank eyes and the odd body posture, all indicating the absence of a relaxed, animated soul.
Alien light eventually comes to reside in Dr. Hubbell Elliot, chief egghead at a very a top secret, hush-hush atomic research facility in the desert (whose fortress-like security the possessed pickup jockey breaches by conking the guard with a pipe-wrench. Sometimes the simplest solutions really are the best).
Scientists at the facility have been tracking the path of a monstrous asteroid, which they investigate once it has splash-crashed into the Gulf of Mexico. Dr. Elliot/Alien telepathically summons forth from the hissing water a colossal, monolithic edifice - two cubes connected by a shaft, which moves by the rhythmic pumping of undercarriage pistons. We learn from Dr. Elliot (who occasionally can shake off the alien control after “shock treatments” administered by the medical doctor at the facility) that this awe-inspiring structure is an energy eater, a giant machine of the alien’s design, sent to devour earth - to turn “all energy into matter” to feed their home planet, which has been become depleted.
Alien light eventually comes to reside in Dr. Hubbell Elliot, chief egghead at a very a top secret, hush-hush atomic research facility in the desert (whose fortress-like security the possessed pickup jockey breaches by conking the guard with a pipe-wrench. Sometimes the simplest solutions really are the best).
Scientists at the facility have been tracking the path of a monstrous asteroid, which they investigate once it has splash-crashed into the Gulf of Mexico. Dr. Elliot/Alien telepathically summons forth from the hissing water a colossal, monolithic edifice - two cubes connected by a shaft, which moves by the rhythmic pumping of undercarriage pistons. We learn from Dr. Elliot (who occasionally can shake off the alien control after “shock treatments” administered by the medical doctor at the facility) that this awe-inspiring structure is an energy eater, a giant machine of the alien’s design, sent to devour earth - to turn “all energy into matter” to feed their home planet, which has been become depleted.
One of the beautiful constructs of the film is this incredible machine, towering and teutonic, which is labeled KRONOS by the eggheads after the Greek God that literally ate his foes. Like KRONOS, it is God-like in its size and power, suggesting perhaps worship as one possible strategy for appeasement. The sound and animation effects are good, if perhaps a bit too strictly mechanical, and the machine makes a bee-line for a nearby atomic stockpile, pistons smashing all in its path. While much of KRONOS' destruction is caused the old fashioned way, (stomping and tromping) the scene where the machine sends out tendrils of electricity and actually eats a power plant is tremendous. The final scene is a real whopper, too, as KRONOS horribly consumes itself in a well-orchestrated crescendo of effects. Radiation Cinema at its finest!
Chief scientist Dr. Leslie Gaskell is Radiation Cinema icon, Jeff Morrow, who was often called on to give the magnificent, ridiculous science of these movies a structured credibility. He had the voice of a newsman delivering harsh news, and a cubist forehead so heavy it crushed his eyes into joyless, browed slits. He is a serious, ultra-serious man. I can’t recall Morrow ever smiling in this picture, and if he did I am sure I averted my gaze out of respect for a shameful moment. No, Mr. Morrow was a 1950s man of logic and science, not easily distracted. Few actors before or since could give an expository speech with the panache of Morrow, and he certainly delivers the goods here. Particularly effective is Morrow in the “aha” moment, when he grasps and explains how KRONOS can be beaten (“By reversing the polarity, we can turn KRONOS’ power on itself!”). The film makers, presumably Director Kurt Neumann, did serve Morrow very, very poorly in one scene, however, when they but his box frame in a pair of shorts. They would have looked more natural on a Xerox machine.
On hand as well are George O’Hanlon and Barbara Lawrence as Dr. Arnold “Arnie” Culver and Vera Hunter respectively. O’Hanlon is perhaps Radiation Cinema’s first computer geek, back in the day when the term “computer” meant an entire wall of a large room covered with pairs of spinning reel-to-reel tapes which produced a noise level requiring earmuffs. O’Hanlon, who became immortal later in his career as the voice of George Jetson, serves up the comic relief. He has named his computer/wall SUSIE (Synchro Unifying Sinometric Integrating Equitenser) and often talks to it encouragingly: “C’mon, old girl, don’t let me down now!” or “SUSIE’s going into a differential phase.”
Barbara Lawrence as Vera Hunter is . . . well, it is not immediately clear what she does at the facility. She doesn’t were a lab coat, walks around the lab in heels with cigarette held artfully in hand, wearing a tight dress, and doesn’t seem to understand anything scientific. Morrow flatly ignores her except as a romantic interest, looking right through her at moments of serious inquiry or research. O’Hanlon, though, often patiently pushes up his glasses and explains things. A girlfriend, perhaps, spending a day with the boys?
On hand as well are George O’Hanlon and Barbara Lawrence as Dr. Arnold “Arnie” Culver and Vera Hunter respectively. O’Hanlon is perhaps Radiation Cinema’s first computer geek, back in the day when the term “computer” meant an entire wall of a large room covered with pairs of spinning reel-to-reel tapes which produced a noise level requiring earmuffs. O’Hanlon, who became immortal later in his career as the voice of George Jetson, serves up the comic relief. He has named his computer/wall SUSIE (Synchro Unifying Sinometric Integrating Equitenser) and often talks to it encouragingly: “C’mon, old girl, don’t let me down now!” or “SUSIE’s going into a differential phase.”
Barbara Lawrence as Vera Hunter is . . . well, it is not immediately clear what she does at the facility. She doesn’t were a lab coat, walks around the lab in heels with cigarette held artfully in hand, wearing a tight dress, and doesn’t seem to understand anything scientific. Morrow flatly ignores her except as a romantic interest, looking right through her at moments of serious inquiry or research. O’Hanlon, though, often patiently pushes up his glasses and explains things. A girlfriend, perhaps, spending a day with the boys?
OK, I’m being a smart ass. She’s a glorious fifties babe, is what she is, pure and beautifully simple, and it doesn't matter a good goddamn why she's there. In fact, only a spoilsport would ask. We accept her as an “assistant” even though she doesn't seem particularily helpful, spending most of the film in a very sexy snit because Dr. Gaskell (Morrow) can’t seem to find the time to take her to the movies what with this alien machine stamping through fields of Mexican peasants. Yep, she's stunning – as is only fitting for female lab assistants in Radiation Cinema. The afore-mentioned director redeems himself completely for the “Morrow in shorts” disaster by putting Lawrence in a bathing suit. Back in the fifties, woman didn’t even need bikinis. Watching her run along the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, even Morrow can be forgiven a carefree mood.
For me the performance than gives this classic its energy comes from John Emery as the tortured alien incubus, Dr. Elliot. His sweating, dark-eyed angst is positively Shakespearean, rivaling the torments of Lear or Hamlet. He has his moments when he is able to shuffle of this alien coil by the inducement of high-voltage, and his struggle to regain his soul is Oscar material. The alien, we learn during a late scene, is actually a creepy, liquid sludge much like blood, which leaves the unfortunate Dr. Elliot in its crackling, electric death throes. Great stuff and for my money, one of the scariest aliens ever presented in film; scary because, as a life form, it seems truly alien.
Footage from the Trinity Test at White Sands is used to great effect twice in the film. First, when fighter pilots hit KRONOS with “an atomic barrage” which KRONOS actually sucks back into itself, devouring the energy; and again when the creature ultimately devours itself and explodes.
I love this movie and can’t imagine life without it. I know for a fact that you will treasure it, too. - Radiation Cinema
Footage from the Trinity Test at White Sands is used to great effect twice in the film. First, when fighter pilots hit KRONOS with “an atomic barrage” which KRONOS actually sucks back into itself, devouring the energy; and again when the creature ultimately devours itself and explodes.
I love this movie and can’t imagine life without it. I know for a fact that you will treasure it, too. - Radiation Cinema
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