CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON (1954)
"All he wanted was a lady..."
— Dave Edmunds, "The Creature from the Black Lagoon" (1979)
This one's less of a review and more of a heartfelt love letter to a
"monster" who is near and dear to the hearts of myself and millions of
advocates for teratism worldwide for 65 years. 1954's CREATURE FROM THE
BLACK LAGOON is perhaps the archetypal monster movie about a man-sized
amphibian entity of apparently hostile intent, and though there have
been many that followed in his wake, none of them held the near-primal
resonance that this specific specimen wields.
The plot is simplicity itself: An expedition to the Amazon seeks further
information after the discovery of the fossilized remains of a missing
link between aquatic and land species, and upon their arrival at the
remote titular location they encounter the "Gill-Man" (Ricou Browning), a
tall, fish-like amphibious biped with great strength, sharp claws, and a
nasty temper. More beast than man, the creature defends its territory
with a lethal vengeance but is soon distracted by the beauty of the
team's sole female member (Julie Adams, in her now-classic white
one-piece bathing suit). It is presumed that the creature is the last of
his species, so the presence of a female, human or not, stirs yearnings
within him and sends him on a hopeless quest to claim the woman for
himself. As anyone who has seen the original KING KONG (1933) will tell
you, that pursuit does not go well...
"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun..." (Or Julie Adams, in this case...)
Seen
today, the film is not scary per se, but it does provide entry-level
thrills for the budding monster kids, and the fact that the Gill-Man is
so beautifully realized is a major factor for the movie's undying
appeal. Even by modern standards, the Gill-Man suit is a makeup effects
masterpiece, and the Gill-Man is rightfully counted as the last of the
great Universal monsters. For all intents and purposes, he looks real
and very much alive, especially when seen wet and stalking about on dry
land, wreaking havoc as he goes, with his mouth and gills working
realistically as he breathes and implacably approaches the camera.
Just look at that magnificent bastard.
Much like Kong, the Gill-Man is an undeniably masculine and primal
presence, and his motivations are all too easy to relate to from a human
perspective. How dare these interlopers invade his home and then have
to nerve to not only attempt to capture him, but also photograph him
like a pack of waterlogged paparazzi? And him being smitten by the sight
of Julie Adams gracefully making her way through his watery domain is
fully understandable on a gut (and other organs) level, so who cannot
relate? The Gill-Man is the lonely guy writ large and untamed, again
like Kong, so his plight absolutely tugs at our heartstrings and we
genuinely feel sorrow at his unfair demise — murder, if you ask me — and
also for his species passing from the world with his decisive exit.
(Or, rather, "decisive" until the two tepid sequels that followed after
this first installment proved a hit.)
Since 1954, the Gill-Man has stood as the acme of the humanoid fish
monster, a direct descendant of H.P. Lovecraft's Deep Ones or the
residents of the eerie seaside town of Innsmouth, Massachusetts. He
lurks beneath the waters of that Amazonian river and deep within the
equally secret places within our minds, ever ready to drive away
intruders and to perish in the search for a mate. And when looked at in
this film, the Gill-Man's attentions toward his human object of
fascination do not bring to mind any sort of intent for harm, but
instead he seems quite innocent in his need for her. Yes, it's likely
spurred by a legitimate mating urge, but he clearly does not want to
hurt her. He is shown to have the power and the natural tools with which
to render perceived threats into so much chutney, but he is in no way
within the graphically-depicted realm of the utterly horrific fish-men
rapists in the infamous HUMANOIDS FROM THE DEEP (1980).
I dare to say that to many of us the Gill-Man is lovable and even
beautiful in his own way, something expressed to perfection in Guillermo
Del Toro's superlative "monster fairytale" for grownups, Best Picture
Oscar-Winner THE SHAPE OF WATER (2019). To me, that film was the
Gill-Man — or rather a superb stand-in, "the Asset" — finally being
given the story he truly deserved, one wherein he was treated with
kindness, respect, and even outright wonder from some of the characters,
and even given a happy ending.
I've loved the Gill-Man since I was little, and he was one of the first monsters that I learned to draw, once I was old enough to hold a crayon. He appealed to me because of my budding interest in amphibians and marine biology, and also because he was a creature that we were supposed to fear but we rooted for because of the mistreatment, frustrations, and disappointments that he endured over the course of three films. Hell, once I'd mastered the basics of prolonged underwater swimming, I modeled my early movements at it after the Gill-Man's style, complete with spatulate hands aiding in dragging myself through the pool or the ocean.
So, yeah. Gill-Man, I love you, and I hope you return someday, brought back to the screen by filmmakers who understand and appreciate you. I just wish I lived next to a swamp and could therefore have you as a most welcome neighbor.
I've loved the Gill-Man since I was little, and he was one of the first monsters that I learned to draw, once I was old enough to hold a crayon. He appealed to me because of my budding interest in amphibians and marine biology, and also because he was a creature that we were supposed to fear but we rooted for because of the mistreatment, frustrations, and disappointments that he endured over the course of three films. Hell, once I'd mastered the basics of prolonged underwater swimming, I modeled my early movements at it after the Gill-Man's style, complete with spatulate hands aiding in dragging myself through the pool or the ocean.
So, yeah. Gill-Man, I love you, and I hope you return someday, brought back to the screen by filmmakers who understand and appreciate you. I just wish I lived next to a swamp and could therefore have you as a most welcome neighbor.
From my collection.
From my collection.
Poster from the Danish theatrical release.







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