I watched lots of these films growing up during the 1960s on the old black and white Pye TV and some made a deep impression on me at the time, for various reasons. Some are still favourites today, although with added kitsch-appeal fifty years later! One of my top ten was on TV today - the 1953 release 'Invaders from Mars'.
Online research tells me that this fairly straight-forward pic was written in 1950, making it one of the first science fiction scripts of the 1950s, and was possibly intended to be filmed in 3D. Nevertheless, it's the subtle and moody visuals and atmospheric lighting that make this little gem a stand-out for me.
The story and script are nothing exceptional. An alien race, upset by the development of atomic power on earth, decide enough is enough and move to neutralize the percieved threat to their own existence by either conquering or destroying the earth or its inhabitants.
'Invaders from Mars' starts with a typical wholesome little boy of the time - a red-headed, freckle-faced innocent, given to exclaiming 'gee whiz!'. Stargazing with his telescope early one morning, he sees something crash into a sandy field near his home.
His comfortable, happy-families life goes downhill from there!
The first thing you really notice about 'Invaders' is the obviously 'stagey' sets. The apparent lack of visual depth in the 'outdoor' scenes immediately evokes a claustophobic feel, creating empathy with the little boy as he becomes inceasingly disconnected from the people in his life as they are taken over, one by one, by the aliens. Many indoor shots, by contrast, have almost surrealistic proportions, featuring long, narrow, high-ceilinged rooms with oversized vertical elements that are oppressively minimalist. Prison bars and tall black lamps in the police station, ceiling-high glass apparatus in a laboratory, and long dark shadows everywhere, create an overpowering sense of vulnerability in places where we encounter police, scientists, and other authority figures. These dark verticals mirror the scenery from the boy's bedroom window - a stand of tall, black dead trees beyond which a footbridge leads to an unseen destination just over a small ridge where (as we know) the alien spaceship lies hidden under a sandy field. Throughout the movie, incidental signs such as "DANGER" and "RESTRICTED AREA" add to the general menace underscoring the film.
Little David's perfect 1950s world of caring parents, happy well-behaved kiddies, and a supportive community (although apparently full of intellectuals and scientists working on the local development of a secret atomic rocket ship!) is initially rattled by the overnight disappearence and reappearance of his father. No longer the astronomy-loving, well-groomed and jolly head of the house (who nevertheless hides his actual rocket-science work from the family!) but now sweating, dishevelled, and suddenly violent when asked about the scar on the back of his neck. He does, however, seem to display a tiny spark of humanity in his voice when insisting his son forget what he saw in the sky that night.
Soon however, playmates, parents, and policeman change from pals and protectors to cold and vaguely threatening figures while, as usual, nobody listens to the lone protests of the little kid who seems to be the only one that notices their sinister transformations.
Locked up in the pokey, (for his own good, of course) little Opie (umm, I mean little David) at last finds a sympathetic ear in fashion-plate lady doctor, Pat Blake. Dark-haired (and therefor an intelligent female in the meme of the day!), Dr Pat is clothed all in antispeptic white with spotless slimline dress, gloves, shoes and clutch-bag. A red pocket handkerchief on the left side of her chest forms a geometric heart shape. This is the brightest thing in the entire film which, while in colour, is generally in pale tones of muted greys, blues, and beiges, almost looking like a back and white movie in parts. Her purity of dress (maybe subconsciously virginal?) contrasts with the stark black-widow garb of his now-transformed mother when she turns up to retrieve her wayward son. Previously pastel-pretty, she doesn't turn a Doris-Day-blonde hair when Dr Pat suggests - as a subterfuge to keep him in her care - that David may have polio, that crippling and deadly disease that struck terror into parents of the time.
The only real let-down in the movie are the aliens themselves. Their antlion-like habits, as they pull unsuspecting folk under the sand into their infared-ray-created caverns, is creepy enough, but the Mutants (inexplicably pronounced 'Mute-Ants') are among the worst-costumed in the entire sci fi genre! Big, hefty guys in unflattering green velour onesies lumber through the caverns under the telepathic direction of the ubiquitous 'brain in a bubble', a bodiless and merciless Master of Evil Ceremonies who has to be lugged about in a plastic sphere like an interstellar hamster!
In the end, the army arrives (cue rousing patriotic music by John Philip Sousa) to save the day. "Tanks," muses the general. "They're a beautiful sight when they're on your side!" And after some bombing and a race through subterranean tunnels, science and pure hearts win the day! Basically, quick-witted humanity combines brains and brawn to prove, once again, that heroic individuality beats the hive-mind every time. In the final scene, we are teased with the idea that this was all a little boy's dream - or was it?
So, my favourites in no particular order of preference or, indeed, merit are:
1. The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)
2. The Thing From Another World (1951)
3. The Beast with a Million Eyes (1955)
4. Forbidden Planet (1956)
5. Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)
6. The Deadly Mantis (1957)
7. The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957)
8. The Monolith Monsters (1957)
9. The Blob (1958)
10. The Fly (1958)
There are other greats 1950s films too, which I consider more horror than sci fi, like 'Creature from the Black Lagoon'.
That, no doubt, will be a discussion for another day.
Feel free to comment on your favourites or mine!
