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funny how sci fi invokes religion at the start of these films
A strange prehistoric beast lurks in the depths of the Amazonian jungle. A group of scientists try to capture the animal and bring it back to civilization for study.
This process should viewers care to see it is explored in The Shape of Water (2017).
In 1941, while at a dinner party and working on Citizen Kane, producer William Alland learned from cinematographer Gabriel Figueroa about a legendary Amazonian creature that was part fish and part human.
A decade later, Alland penned notes for a story called The Sea Monster, drawing inspiration from Beauty and the Beast. By December 1952, Maurice Zimm had fleshed out these ideas into a full treatment.
The story was then transformed into a screenplay titled The Black Lagoon by writers Harry Essex and Arthur Ross, following the 3D movie trend set by House of Wax in 1953, with Jack Arnold brought on as director.
Disney animator Milicent Patrick designed the creature known as the Gill-man, but make-up artist Bud Westmore overshadowed her contribution, claiming sole credit for decades. The creature’s iconic bodysuit was crafted by Jack Kevan, a veteran of The Wizard of Oz and WWII prosthetics, while Chris Mueller Jr. was responsible for the head’s design.
Actor Ben Chapman played the Gill-man on land, enduring long hours in a costume that was both restrictive and overheating, often requiring him to cool off in the lake at Universal Studios. His limited vision in the costume also led to an incident where he accidentally injured co-star Julie Adams during filming.
For the underwater sequences, Ricou Browning took on the role of the Gill-man, filming in Florida’s Wakulla Springs. Despite rumors of holding his breath for four minutes, Browning later clarified that active movement underwater significantly reduced this time to about two minutes at most.
The evolution of the monster myth finds its roots back to ancient leviathan tales and examining their transformation in the post-Darwinian era. The monster movie era suggests that these stories reflect a shift from the hierarchical Ladder of Being to Darwin’s more intricate Tree of Life, creating a narrative tension between anthropomorphism and bestialization.
It may be a fact of noir applicable to monster narrative also, but there is a persistent theme of racial anxiety within these tales, linking it to works like Moby-Dick, King Kong, and Peter Benchley’s Jaws and Beast.
Focusing on Moby-Dick and its cinematic and literary descendants, including Jaws and its adaptations, we find bestialisation of nature. Then we could delve towards the King Kong franchise and related works, and standalone variations like The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and The Island of Dr. Moreau with its film renditions.
The intersection of evolutionary myths and human-technology relationships, is a concept touched upon in Gravity’s Rainbow but not extensively explored in the film noir era. Perhaps the planes in King Kong represent early cyborgs, and close by are parallels between animal captivity and human colonization.
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This might in fact be called the leviathan tradition and the cultural implications of these monster stories, particularly regarding racial themes, are thought-provoking, and can always be further expanded. The hardest task is assessing the cultural significance of monsters, because it leaves much uncharted territory in its wake, hinting at a vast expanse of monstrous lore yet to be fully mapped out.
In the realm of literary and cultural teratology, particularly within science fiction, the origin of the monstrous figure is often traced back to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818). This marked a shift from the supernatural creatures of Gothic fiction to entities born from human ingenuity and scientific meddling.
However, Creature From The Black Lagoon (1954) delves into an even more ancient tradition—the myth of the leviathan or behemoth—which has significantly influenced modern portrayals of monsters. Genuine leviathanic texts exist in history with Moby-Dick (1851) serving as a prime example, and creature films such as this explore the mythological evolution of beasts in literature and film, reflecting on how these stories express our relationship with the animal world and confront our own evolutionary journey.
Not since the beginning of time has the world beheld terror like this!
Centuries of passion pent up in his savage heart!
Terrifying monster ravages mankind!
Amazing! Startling! Shocking!
Clawing Monster From A Lost Age strikes from the Amazon's forbidden depths!
Creature from a million years ago!... every man his mortal enemy... and a woman's beauty his prey!
From the Amazon's forbidden depths came the Creature from the Black Lagoon
The film The Creature from the Black Lagoon cleverly uses the guise of a classic monster movie to delve into the real fears and insecurities of its audience. It draws parallels to movies like Invasion of the Body Snatchers and I Married a Monster from Outer Space, which also use science fiction to reflect societal anxieties.
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| Getting a better sense of who the target is in Creature From The Black Lagoon (1954) |
In Creature from the Black Lagoon, the Gill Man symbolizes the struggles of teenage boys in a society that stifles expression and growth, portraying them as awkward and incomplete, especially in their interactions with girls. The plot thickens when a group of scientists exploring the Amazon discovers a prehistoric claw, leading to the Gill Man’s infatuation with the team’s only female member, Julie Adams. This ignites a conflict among the human characters, torn between destroying the creature and capturing it for research, mirroring the inner turmoil of adolescence and the battle between fear and curiosity.
It’s a film that transcends its genre, becoming a cultural touchstone recognized even by those who aren’t science fiction aficionados. Watching it is akin to an encounter with a celebrity, adding a layer of excitement for viewers.
Director Jack Arnold excels at maintaining a gripping pace and building suspense throughout the movie. This keeps audiences engaged and on the edge of their seats.
In the mid-end of modernity, in the new cinema of psychology and in the fantasies released by film noir there came a creature that’s become the stuff of legend. A spiny enigma from the briny deep, part man, part fish, all terror. It’s a marvel of the dark arts of Hollywood, a specter that haunts both land and sea with equal menace. The flick’s underwater ballet is a sight to behold, with Reed and Williams duking it out with the beast in the murky abyss of the lagoon.
The thing’s got grace under the waves, a stark contrast to its lumbering haunt above the surface. It’s a picture that’s etched itself into the annals of celluloid history, as iconic as the gumshoe’s fedora.
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This flick’s a harbinger of the monster mashes to come, like Alien and Predator, where the beast’s mug is the real star of the show. The Gill-man’s got a couple of encores, but it’s a head-scratcher why the bigwigs at Universal never cooked up a fresh take for the modern crowd.
The reel spins a yarn of two gents at odds, Reed and Williams, locked in a tussle over the fate of the creature. One’s playing for keeps, aiming to bag the beast alive for the sake of science. The other’s got a finger itching on the trigger, ready to send it to the big aquarium in the sky. As the body count ticks up, the scales start to tip towards a permanent checkout for the creature. But that’s where the complexity ends in this caper. The characters ain’t exactly a study in depth, and the plot’s a straight shot—journey to the lagoon, get marooned, and play keep-away with the creature’s unwelcome wooing.
The creature’s distinctive three-note motif, DOO — DAA — DEEE — which plays with each appearance, adds to its iconic status and heightens the dramatic effect.
The Gill-man’s blend of vulnerability and near invincibility creates a compelling dynamic. Despite being wounded by spear guns and bullets, it never quite succumbs, keeping viewers guessing.
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| It's Julie Adams' movie — Creature From The Black Lagoon (1954) |
Jack Arnold’s The Creature from the Black Lagoon stands out among Universal’s classic monster movies for its unique portrayal of the creature. Unlike other monsters with human origins, the Gill-man lacks any direct genetic ties to humans, venturing into bold narrative territory with its themes of inter-species attraction. The creature’s fascination with the lead actress, Julie Adams, echoes the dynamic seen in King Kong, but with a twist: the Gill-man actively pursues her, rather than being offered as a sacrifice.
The film navigates these provocative waters with a blend of classic monster tropes and a hint of romance, albeit one-sided. The narrative ultimately falls back on familiar patterns of damsel-in-distress and heroic rescues, a formula that has persisted since the early days of silent horror films. Despite this, the movie playfully toys with the idea of a romantic triangle, suggesting a mutual attraction between Adams and the creature, which is more implied than explicit.
This is what makes of Creature From The Black Lagoon (1954) such an essential stop on your film noir journey. There is not one without the other.
The script juxtaposes commercial interests against ethical scientific inquiry, a common theme in the genre that adds a layer of complexity to the story. However, the film’s true charm lies in its earnestness and the skilful direction of Arnold, who brings a sense of dignity to the fantastical premise. The result is a film that, while it may not break new ground in narrative, captivates its audience with the sincerity of its execution and the allure of its iconic monster.
The contrasting philosophies of Dr. Reed and Dr. Williams represent the ethical dilemmas in science between pure research and exploitation for personal gain, adding depth to the story.
Unlike many low-budget sci-fi movies that hide their creatures, The Creature from the Black Lagoon showcases the Gill-man early and often, rewarding viewers with a well-crafted monster that lives up to their expectations.
The Gill-man is portrayed not just as a mindless beast but as a complex entity with desires and curiosities, particularly in its interactions with Kay. This adds layers to the character and resonates with the audience on a more personal level.
The creature’s awkwardness and misunderstood nature reflect the adolescent male psyche, making it relatable to a broader demographic.
Creature from the Black Lagoon indeed weaves a complex tapestry of themes, making it a film that defies simple categorization. Its portrayal of the Gill-man is layered, inviting viewers to empathize with a creature that is more a victim of circumstance than a villain by nature. The film’s environmentalist undertones, whether intentional or interpreted, suggest a respect for the untamed wilderness, a call to preserve the natural world from human intrusion.
The narrative’s blend of biblical creation and evolutionary science positions the Gill-man at the crossroads of the ancient and the modern, the supernatural and the empirical. This duality is mirrored in the characters’ conflicting approaches to the creature: David’s scientific curiosity clashes with Mark’s pragmatic survivalism, reflecting broader debates about the role of science and humanity’s place in nature.
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The film’s status as both a tribute to Universal’s monster legacy and a forward-looking piece of cinema is further enriched by its musical score, a collaborative effort that has become emblematic on its own.
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The movie’s ability to serve as a metaphor for the tension between progress and tradition, encapsulated by the dividing line of the Black Lagoon, speaks to its enduring relevance and the depth of its storytelling.
The film plays with classic cinema tropes such as the damsel in distress, but with a twist—the Gill-man seems to genuinely desire the female lead, adding a unique spin to a familiar scenario.
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The Creature from the Black Lagoon indeed stands as a testament to the artistry of classic monster cinema. Its signature three-note sound cue, akin to an aquatic siren’s call, heralds the presence of the Gill-man, a creature brought to life with meticulous attention to detail. The scales, the gills, the fluidity of movement—all contribute to a creature that is as haunting as it is fascinating. Ricou Browning’s portrayal, particularly in the underwater sequences, adds a balletic grace to the Gill-man, creating a stark juxtaposition with its more terrestrial, awkward encounters.
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This film, while perhaps overshadowed by its Universal brethren like Dracula and the Wolf Man, carves its own indelible mark in the annals of horror. It’s a seamless blend of '50s science fiction sensibilities with the timeless allure of gothic horror.
The Gill-man’s enduring appeal, 60 years on, speaks to the universal and timeless fear of the unknown that lurks beneath the surface, making Creature from the Black Lagoon a true classic of the genre.
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Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954)
Genres - Horror, Drama, Science Fiction, Thriller, Creature Feature | Release Date - Feb 12, 1954 (USA - Unknown), Jan 1, 1987 (USA) | Run Time - 79 min.
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