THE MONSTER THAT CHALLANGED THE WORLD (1959)
Directed by Arnold Laven
Starring:
Tim Holt – Comm. John Twilinger
Audrey Dalton – Gail MacKenzie
Hans Conried – Dr. Jess Rogers
Mimi Gibson – Sandy MacKenzie

Tim Holt, who plays our hero, Commander John Twilinger, was a mile or two passed his prime, as well as several pounds over his fighting weight, when he signed on for this project. He’d been a working actor in Hollywood a solid twenty years by this time, never out of work. The arc of his career was a fascinating one: a solid B actor who fairly often found his way into “class” projects. Holt had significant parts in several memorable, big budget A pictures (The Magnificent Ambersons, Stagecoach, and My Darling Clementine among them), and he had entered into the rarified air of screen immortals a decade earlier with his subtle, pitch-perfect performance as Curtin in John Huston’s The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948). What paid the butcher for Holt, though, was a long string of B Westerns throughout the late forties and into the fifties (so many, in fact, Holt was enshrined in the Western Performers Hall of Fame in 1991).

It is Holt, and his veteran acting chops, that give this well-made thriller its solid anchor. In fact, Holt can serve as a fine example in explaining a fan’s love for B Sci-Fi: that is, any artsy youngster can feel inspired to commitment when working on John Ford or John Huston material, but to play the hell out of a battle scene with a giant mollusk, as is done here, that calls for an actor that's been under the studio lights a few times - like Tim Holt (or John Agar, or Richard Denning, or Jeff Morrow); which brings us to the tale at hand.

Our film opens in popular documentary style with serious male voice introducing us to a naval base on the banks of the Salton Sea, a large salt water lake in the desert of Southern California. At the laboratory on this base “top secret atomic experiments” are carried out.

And there you have it: Desert setting all primed with atomic testing, military base complete with research facility and personnel in lab coats, and the key ingredient of “top security” which brings a certain isolation and potential for horrible disaster to mind. So, what’s it going to be? Alien invasion or atomic mutation? Well, the posters sort of give it away. It’s definitely atomic mutation; in short – a classic “big bug” movie.

Director Arnold Laven moves the picture into high gear quickly. A sizable earthquake under the Salton Sea is recorded, and it’s back to business as usual. Meanwhile a routine navel parachutist splashes into the Salton Sea on a routine test jump (super cool cinema verite footage here of a jump in action), and a routine patrol boat goes out to pick him out of the water. Well, parachutist and crew are taken well out of their routine when none return to base. We see, just before the last sailor gets snatched of the deck like an hours dourve, a reaction shot as a rising shadow with mandibles crosses a stricken expression. The young sailor gives an odd, manly bark of terror and it’s fade to black.


As the news of this “loss of radio contact” makes it’s way through the ranks, we are introduced to all the principals, who are: Commander John Twilinger, (Tim Holt) military hard-ass, by-the-book officer in charge; Gail MacKenzie, (Audrey Dalton) secretary to Dr. Rogers, single mother and looker, who will serve as romantic interest; and Doctor Jess Rogers (Hans Conried) who is the lab coat brains of the outfit and will serve to give all scientific exposition in the film. Conried, who is seen here in a rare dramatic outing, does very well for himself. His performance is underplayed but effective, and he actually looks like a rumpled scientist, gangly with well-creased face and lab coat. When Conried gives his break-down of the mutation, aided by some very revolting footage of real mollusks (did you know they had teeth?), it actually sounds as though he understands what he’s saying. Conried is best remembered (at least by the baby booming generation) as the voice of Snidely Whiplash, the villain in the Dudley Do-Right cartoons, but his dramatic roots were truly in radio - back in the days when the voice ruled - where he was part of the Orson Welles Mercury Theater Company.


The break down is this: the aforementioned earthquake has released from the bed of the Salton Sea long dormant eggs of a prehistoric snail-like creature. The eggs have mixed with the sea water that might be highly radioactive, due to the atomic testing done at the research facility, and this radioactivity has radically accelerated their incubation. The danger is that these creatures are carnivores that eat tons of between meal snacks, and they lay eggs at a fantastic rate. So if even one of these creatures manages to make it off base, mankind would find itself the next link down on the food chain. The movie becomes a contest to contain and kill the creatures, destroying their nests with dynamite, before they can escape via a canal system.


Particularly good is the scene which introduces Commander John Twilinger. Twilinger is seen sitting at his desk and we hear one half of a brief conversation. A lowly lieutenant is told, in brutal fashion, that there is nothing Twilinger can or will do. The soldier in question was caught going AWOL and it doesn’t matter what the circumstances where, the case gets referred right up the ladder. When a rebuttal is even attempted, Twilinger chops him off at the knees. “Now wait a minute,” he says, sitting forward now and leaning into it, “In the week or so I’ve been at this base, I’ve had a dozen different cases come up. I don’t decide these things. I’m an investigating officer, not a judge. I’ll send you notification.” Click. Well, thanks so much for your time, Commander Prick. An aide standing by taps the open file and explains that he knows the kid in question. He’s basically a good guy that made a mistake. “He sure did,” says Twilinger, closing the cover on the file for good measure. The scene is quick, real, and lean. Perhaps Holt was able to make this scene so believable due of his military experience (Holt was a decorated combat veteran of WWII, having served as a B-29 bombardier in the Pacific Theatre).

There are similar moments of realism throughout, small touches of character development and good snatches of acting that give this B picture an enjoyable depth. For example, notice Tlilinger’s eye-rolling secretary, Sally (Amanda Harley), who calls Holt “Iron Heart” behind his back in numerous, covert conversations with her mother, whom she keeps on a hold line until the coast is clear. Also of note is the actress, Sarah Selbey, who plays the grief and guilt stricken mother of a victim. Like many good directors, Arnold Laven gives each character the camera observes a unique personality, the suggestion of a complete life out there somewhere, behind the main story.

The script is excellent and except for the misstep of putting Holt in a weight-enhancing diver’s wet suit (a real cruelty), the writing is brisk and effective. Particularly well done is the concise romance between Commander Twilinger and Gail. Gail, it turns out, has lost her husband to the war and is raising her daughter by herself. She finds herself responding to Twilinger simply because, in his strict, hard way, he’s somehow trustworthy with secrets. He doesn’t like talking about himself at all, and he keeps his trap shut and listens. Her story spills out one afternoon when a girlfriend loses her husband to the monster. “I should be in there telling Connie how she’ll get over it,” says Gail to the Commander, explaining why she isn’t comforting the widow. “The trouble is you don’t.”


Theirs certainly isn’t a match made in heaven. For starters, when the two characters meet, Twilinger gives Gail a brisk chewing out for mentioning the accident involving the missing sailors and sky jumper. ”Young lady, you are never to talk about that. Do you understand me?” he barks, standing over her. “Yes sir, of course,” she says, clearly deciding he’s an ass hole. Although it is never mentioned outright, he’s obviously a decade or so too old for her (Dublin born beauty Audrey Dalton was a radiant twenty-five when she played Gail, Holt was a distinctly un-svelte forty-one). Even after she begins to warm to him, Gail still gives him his walking papers politely but firmly when the commander, in bumbling, formal fashion, asks her to dinner. Yet he accepts the rejection with such old-school, hat-in-hand class, he scores points. Sure enough, Gail finds herself alone one night, wishing very much not to be alone, and gives him a call. Over dinner (for which she has dressed to the nines), she kids him about being so serious, and he likes the kidding. All is very mature and extremely believable. She calls him “Twil” once casually, and he hardly seems to notice (but he does notice). They have a real affection that’s growing in baby steps. They even hold hands for a moment, and it isn’t forced or even particularly dramatic. All in all, it’s a moment of romance in a film that won’t have you searching for the fast-forward button. Not love at first sight, for sure, but maybe love on the horizon after a bit of old fashioned work. Very refreshing.


The headliner in the movie is the monster, though, and it's a great creation. It may be, if fact, one of the few times in monster movie history where the publicity poster didn't exaggerate the reality. The technical effects here aren’t produced with miniaturization or stop animation, both of which were very sophisticated by 1959. Nope, this baby was built to scale - it’s an 11-foot tall mollusk model with working parts. The mandibles gnash, the leg nubbins move, and the entire thing can rotate around. The sound effects add much to the terrifying whole, with the mandibles making a startling, bone-heavy clack; and the bulbous, slightly-glowing, gelatinous eyes give it a final creepy touch.


The tight direction efficiently ratchets things to the final scene, and man, it’s a humdinger.

One last egg sack, with a half developed creature inside, has been kept by Dr. Rogers for research purposes. You only get one guess as to what happens. Yep, through a lab mistake, the thing springs to life nearly fully formed (don’t these egghead scientist ever learn about keeping a sample specimen around?). The thing has Gail and her daughter trapped in the lab with no escape and in a terrifying scene, they have to take a last refuge in a janitor’s closet. As the mandibles are smashing their way through the door, Gail holds her daughter close, shielding her face. “Oh, God,” she says through tears, “Sandy, I want you to close your eyes and don’t open them for a little while.”


Commander Twilinger bursts into the lab with Dr. Rogers. “Gail!” shouts the doctor in horror as he sees the monster, and Twilinger rushes him out the door to get help. In what seems like honest to God, bowel-squeezing terror, Holt starts flinging beakers of liquid at the creature, slopping most of it on himself in complete, ineffectual panic. Next he grabs a fire extinguisher and tears loose. Yes, a fire extinguisher. Not being on fire, the creature is barely disturbed by the puffy clouds and keeps coming at Twilinger. The level of Tlilinger’s hysteria is made believable by the fact that he’s not searching for an effective weapon calmly (there is a fire axe on the wall near him in plain sight) but is simply snatching at whatever is at hand (I remember once as a boy throwing folded laundry at a babysitter’s pet dog that went nuts, so I can speak to the realism of this reaction).


Finally, clearly pissing his uniform, Twilinger finds a steam hose and pulls it out of the floor, spraying live steam around the room. Now he’s getting somewhere, as the creature recoils and screeches horribly. It also starts emitting a slim, which real mollusks secrete as a defensive measure (very nice touch). Despite horribly burning his hands and face and being scared out of his wits into the bargain, Twilinger stands his ground and keeps up the pressure; as the screaming creature makes one, last desperate attempt to smash through the lab sky light and escape the torture (one has a moment of sympathy here for the monster in its terrible death spasms; really, all it has done is be born with a raging appetite, as are all newborns).

Doctor Rogers returns with a gaggle of MPs, and they let rip with their M1 rifles. Finally the thing rears a last time, then drops with a very heavy, sluggish weight, smashing though a table of equipment and splatting wetly onto the floor. Tim Holt leans against a table and gasps for breath, trying to avoid a stroke, as we fade to black.

The final scene has the central three characters looking very much like a family in the parking lot of the laboratory, with Twilinger even holding Sandy in his arms. “You know something, Sandy,” says the Commander, “you can go swimming again,” and thus the world is returned to normal as the three walk hand in hand as end credits roll and end theme swells.

No doubt about it, the monster in this film is one of the better creations of the era, well conceived and, because the scientific premise of the creature is so well thought out, surprisingly frightening. Well conceived as well is the story of the unlikely romance between Gail and Twilinger; and a well done script, along with fine directing and acting, make their developing story as memorable as the monster. How often does that happen in a monster picture of any era or budget?

Could this be one of Radiation Cinema’s most grown-up love stories, disguised and marketed through the years as a big bug monster movie? I vote yes. Watch it with a developing romantic interest of your own. WATCH THE TRAILER BELOW. –Radiation Cinema