Though Scream Week is in our past, I must admit that there's been a bit of Wes Craven stuck in my head the last few days. As I remembered the steps taken to empower Neve Campbell's Sidney Prescott in the Scream films, I couldn't help but think of Craven's maligned little summer-time thriller Red Eye.
Rachel McAdams and Cillian Murphy star in a taut bit of airline drama, as a success driven hotel manager and the mysterious man who aims to intimidate her. Though the film has some serious flaws in its execution - the final act is a bit too Tom and Jerry for my tastes - the relationship between these characters and the film's stance on gender roles is what really keeps me coming back to the film.
McAdams' Lisa is introduced to us through her interactions with others, and is quickly established as a strong female character who can manage a work-based crisis over the phone while racing to catch a plane after leaving her grandmother's funeral. But through all her strengths, she's still painted as a woman. In the eyes of Murphy's Jackson Rippner - who is tasked with intimidating her into helping carry out a political assassination - that's a fault that can be exploited.
Rippner is a suave character who could definitely charm the pants off of the cougar who's been eyeing him from the other side of the plane, but he's also a bit of a misogynist. His theories about how to deal with Lisa are based partially on eight weeks of stalking, but also on his own perceptions of gender roles. At one point he even takes the time to lament Lisa's "female-driven, emotion-based dilemma" by countering with "male-driven, fact-based logic". To the character, these are the facts of life. This is how he believes gender roles work.
Having grown up in a small town and a rural setting, I'm sad to admit that there are still people out there today - people who are far less tactful than this egomaniacal male character - who actually believe there are facts that back up these opinions. That women can not make decisions without emotion and that men can therefor control all crisis situations in a manner that women can not. It's appalling, to be sure, but it's a little more unsettling coming from Murphy's character. This is a man who is obviously trained in various schools of thought, the kind of man who might have a bit more knowledge of gender roles, yet his comments continually seem designed to demean Lisa for being an inferior woman.
Lisa's transformation throughout the film is something to behold. Though we quickly see that she is a strong person who can deal with problems on the go, but she does have her weaknesses and Jackson aims to exploit them. None of this would work if McAdams wasn't able to deliver a gamut of emotions as Lisa goes through the stages of conflict, and none of it would seem worthwhile if Murphy wasn't able to play both a snake charmer and a cunning adversary. Both leads do exactly what is necessary to carry the film, and without them Lisa's late night flight wouldn't seem so tense.
And then something amazing happens in the final act of the film, and suddenly the film takes on a deeper meaning. Lisa recounts a previous trauma which left her physically and emotionally scarred, and Jackson assumes that she's still lamenting the fact she couldn't prevent what happened to her. But the fear behind Lisa's eyes is gone, and she lets him in on a little fact - she's ready to prevent the next trauma from happening to her. And she starts to follow through on that immediately, with an assist from a well placed Frankenstein-shaped pen.
Y'know, I take back what I said earlier. The final act is not "a bit too Tom and Jerry for my tastes". Seeing McAdams' Lisa, who has been emotionally abused and written off as inferior because of her gender for an entire night (not to mention the things she has to put up with on a daily basis just because she's a woman) is an exhilarating sight. Murphy's big bad wolf no longer has a bite that effects her, because she's done accepting her place as a victim. It might lose a little bit of focus with all the lacrosse bats and rocket launchers and SUV crashes, but the message is still the same: Lisa has had enough of being pushed around by those who assume her gender makes her an easy target.
Red Eye may not have the iconic status of Craven's other women-in-peril films, but there's something about the stripped down, one-on-one approach to Red Eye that lifts it to a special place. It's two solid actors taking a high concept thriller and turning it into something fascinating because it's willing to address gender stereotypes and to surprise the viewer by flipping the tables mid film. The battle that plays out on screen is a tribute to strong women everywhere, and I've seen domestic abuse dramas that aren't near as adept at showing how men can try to overpower women mentally and physically. It's a little too polished and glossy for hardcore horror fans, but I think it's a nice little diversion that's head is in the right place. Craven has done some great things for strong women in horror, and Red Eye is certainly a success in the same ways Scream and A Nightmare on Elm Street were.
Showing posts with label WiH Meet The MMOTW. Show all posts
Showing posts with label WiH Meet The MMOTW. Show all posts
April 21, 2011
February 24, 2011
Midnight Movie of the Week #60 - The Stepford Wives
This is the only horror movie in which the men encourage the women to wear bras. I'm not sure if that's the most important thing to say about The Stepford Wives, but it's the first thing that came to my mind when I started typing this post.
As far as this Mike is concerned, The Stepford Wives is the definitive horror film about a woman who is being tortured. It's certainly a cheesy film and sets itself up to be spoofed, but - like similar '70s hits Soylent Green and Westworld - it's the rare kind of film that puts a character in an inconceivable situation and then insists that we identify with that character as they face an unspeakable reality. Inside its ridiculous look at humanity - which is of course meant to parody the ridiculous perceptions some have of humanity - there's a shocking amount of drama as we see a poor woman bullied to conform to a fate that others have put together for her.
The movie focuses on Joanna and Walter Eberhart, played by Katharine Ross and Peter Masterson, a New York City couple who move to the quiet suburban town of Stepford to get away from troubles of the city (like men walking down the street with mannequins under their arms). While Walter is ready for suburban living and wants nothing but a quiet life, Joanna is a "shutterbug" who longs for excitement and just wants to be able to do her thing. As she begins to meet the women of Stepford, who look like they just stepped out of and episode of Leave it to Beaver, she slowly begins to go mad at the idea of becoming one of these mindless and submissive housewives. Unfortunately, she's got good reason to be afraid.
There are few things in horror movies that really infuriate me, and few villains that actually get under my skin. But the Stepford Wives gives me a rare "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it any more" kind of feeling because - to put it simply - the men in this film make me sick. When Walter Eberhart - long before he knows of the men's council that runs Stepford - looks across the street and tells his neighbor that his wife "cooks as good as she looks", I become seriously annoyed with these men. Worse, I know real human people who share their opinion that the woman exists only to serve. Now I'm no truly enlightened male - I admit to loving a mindless pair of boobs as much as the next guy - but anyone who could undervalue a woman like this is a little bit terrifying to me.
The thing about Joanna Eberhart is that Joanna Eberhart is kind of fantastic. Though the film puts her in plenty of token feminist situations - again, I must point out her inability to put on a bra - the film does an incredible job of pointing out just how wonderfully human she is. As she interacts with those around her while trying to take care of her children or convince that bonehead Walter that there's something wrong in Stepford, Ross infuses an appealing vigor into Joanna through her drive to be a strong, independent woman. Her resolve shines through as her path through the film becomes more difficult, and a scene in which she shares her fears with a female psychiatrist is one of the more heartbreaking scenes I can recall in a horror film. Ross' performance in this scene particularly is on par with any performance in any movie, and as she fights through tears to proclaim that she's afraid of becoming something who "won't be me" I get a little more furious with the men around her.
Walter Eberhart is not a total loss, and the early film scene in which he appears shocked after his first visit to Stepford's Men's Group shows a man who is clearly conflicted over what he's seen. I'm not sure at what point in the movie Walter loses that, but what he loses as he becomes an antagonist to Joanna is awfully sad. The other men in the movie show far less range and it's easy to see their old fashioned, "men only", morals on their sleeves. Joanna's attempts to stand up to them are courageous, but it becomes increasingly evident that she's doomed as the women around her are immune to overpower their husbands.
Sadly, I don't know if there's a horror movie out there that presents such a tragic look at gender roles and those who discredit women as successfully as The Stepford Wives does. It's a film that thoroughly fascinates me, because I'm forced to believe that there are men out there who treat their significant others as if they should be slaves. I know there aren't dudes actually turning their women into Disneyland inspired robots - at least I hope there aren't - but let's be honest. There hasn't exactly been a grand change in gender dynamics in the past 35 years.
Think about that. In the 35 years since this film was released, we went from console TVs with four channels to flatscreens on walls that have better picture quality than our eyes are trained to see and more channels than you can shake a stick at. We went from vinyl to cassettes to CDs to thousands of magical digital songs inside a tiny metal block that's the size of a fish stick. Oh, and we have this internet thing which allows a guy who grew up on a hog farm in Iowa to post his ramblings on a thirty-five year old movie so people from Los Angeles to the Philippines can read it at the click of a button. We - and by we, I of course mean smart people who invent things - did a lot of great things to change our world....but many men still can't be bothered to spend time in the kitchen or help raise their children. Maybe this society of old fashioned men will die out eventually, but it's still a lot further away than the invention of that Back to the Future hoverboard is.
(One thing that has changed for the worst in the past 35 years, you ask? Easy - WALLPAPER. When's the last time you saw something as awesome as THIS!)
Maybe I'm overthinking the world of Stepford, but I'm a trifle fired up by the film. And when a horror film can so clearly bring real world issues home and can remind us of just how idiotic and unfair life can really be - that's the kind of horror film I want to come home to. So thank you to you, The Stepford Wives, for keeping us on our toes and reminding us to watch out for the good 'ol boys. You know, the ones who don't know how good they've got it when a fair haired creature that smells better than them offers to spend time with 'em. You're a fine feminine horror movie, and I promise I'll never try to convince you to put one of those silly uplifting bras on.
As far as this Mike is concerned, The Stepford Wives is the definitive horror film about a woman who is being tortured. It's certainly a cheesy film and sets itself up to be spoofed, but - like similar '70s hits Soylent Green and Westworld - it's the rare kind of film that puts a character in an inconceivable situation and then insists that we identify with that character as they face an unspeakable reality. Inside its ridiculous look at humanity - which is of course meant to parody the ridiculous perceptions some have of humanity - there's a shocking amount of drama as we see a poor woman bullied to conform to a fate that others have put together for her.
The movie focuses on Joanna and Walter Eberhart, played by Katharine Ross and Peter Masterson, a New York City couple who move to the quiet suburban town of Stepford to get away from troubles of the city (like men walking down the street with mannequins under their arms). While Walter is ready for suburban living and wants nothing but a quiet life, Joanna is a "shutterbug" who longs for excitement and just wants to be able to do her thing. As she begins to meet the women of Stepford, who look like they just stepped out of and episode of Leave it to Beaver, she slowly begins to go mad at the idea of becoming one of these mindless and submissive housewives. Unfortunately, she's got good reason to be afraid.
There are few things in horror movies that really infuriate me, and few villains that actually get under my skin. But the Stepford Wives gives me a rare "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it any more" kind of feeling because - to put it simply - the men in this film make me sick. When Walter Eberhart - long before he knows of the men's council that runs Stepford - looks across the street and tells his neighbor that his wife "cooks as good as she looks", I become seriously annoyed with these men. Worse, I know real human people who share their opinion that the woman exists only to serve. Now I'm no truly enlightened male - I admit to loving a mindless pair of boobs as much as the next guy - but anyone who could undervalue a woman like this is a little bit terrifying to me.
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Look everybody! It's Dee Wallace!!!! |
Walter Eberhart is not a total loss, and the early film scene in which he appears shocked after his first visit to Stepford's Men's Group shows a man who is clearly conflicted over what he's seen. I'm not sure at what point in the movie Walter loses that, but what he loses as he becomes an antagonist to Joanna is awfully sad. The other men in the movie show far less range and it's easy to see their old fashioned, "men only", morals on their sleeves. Joanna's attempts to stand up to them are courageous, but it becomes increasingly evident that she's doomed as the women around her are immune to overpower their husbands.
Sadly, I don't know if there's a horror movie out there that presents such a tragic look at gender roles and those who discredit women as successfully as The Stepford Wives does. It's a film that thoroughly fascinates me, because I'm forced to believe that there are men out there who treat their significant others as if they should be slaves. I know there aren't dudes actually turning their women into Disneyland inspired robots - at least I hope there aren't - but let's be honest. There hasn't exactly been a grand change in gender dynamics in the past 35 years.
Think about that. In the 35 years since this film was released, we went from console TVs with four channels to flatscreens on walls that have better picture quality than our eyes are trained to see and more channels than you can shake a stick at. We went from vinyl to cassettes to CDs to thousands of magical digital songs inside a tiny metal block that's the size of a fish stick. Oh, and we have this internet thing which allows a guy who grew up on a hog farm in Iowa to post his ramblings on a thirty-five year old movie so people from Los Angeles to the Philippines can read it at the click of a button. We - and by we, I of course mean smart people who invent things - did a lot of great things to change our world....but many men still can't be bothered to spend time in the kitchen or help raise their children. Maybe this society of old fashioned men will die out eventually, but it's still a lot further away than the invention of that Back to the Future hoverboard is.
(One thing that has changed for the worst in the past 35 years, you ask? Easy - WALLPAPER. When's the last time you saw something as awesome as THIS!)
Maybe I'm overthinking the world of Stepford, but I'm a trifle fired up by the film. And when a horror film can so clearly bring real world issues home and can remind us of just how idiotic and unfair life can really be - that's the kind of horror film I want to come home to. So thank you to you, The Stepford Wives, for keeping us on our toes and reminding us to watch out for the good 'ol boys. You know, the ones who don't know how good they've got it when a fair haired creature that smells better than them offers to spend time with 'em. You're a fine feminine horror movie, and I promise I'll never try to convince you to put one of those silly uplifting bras on.
February 18, 2011
Midnight Movie of the Week #59 - Sisters
There are few horror movies that cover womanhood as thoroughly as Brian De Palma's Sisters does. The 1973 chiller asks Margot Kidder to perform as Siamese twins that have been "cut asunder" and separated, while also asking Jennifer Salt to portray a reporter/amateur detective who witnesses a violent act and thus becomes both the third side in the film's triangle of intrigue and the logical actress opposite Kidder's animalistic characters. Though the film's plot is pretty straight forward - except for an abstract dream sequence that shakes the characters' reality during the final act - the three roles that the two women play can get wrapped up in a confusing web.
The film spends most of its time with Kidder's Danielle & Dominique, and it allows the actress to portray both monster and victim. Danielle generally seems delicate and seems naive, while the moments we share with Dominique are raw and vicious. Kidder does a good job of handling the disconnect between two characters who seem to be on opposite ends of the human spectrum, and Salt covers the middle ground as the nosy Grace Collier quite well.
While the problems the twins face are probably foreign to most women, Ms. Collier is forced to deal with more common, everyday issues. She has built a name in the newspaper industry by "calling it like she sees it", and thus has made enemies with several men, including the police force. At the same time she has to put up with her overbearing mother, who reminds her that people her age are getting married and refers to her job, which Grace is quite passionate about, as a hobby. As she fights through these issues with some pushy tactics, Grace becomes abrasive to even the viewer. I often find myself disliking the character - despite knowing she's right - simply because of her mannerisms as she searches for the truth.
Opposite these women are a host of voyeuristic males. The male gaze has always been a key proponent of De Palma's films, but it seems like the male characters in Sisters are all judging the movements of Kidder and Salt's characters. The most obvious examples surround Danielle, with both her gentleman caller (played by Lisle Wilson) and her ex-husband (future Phantom of the Paradise William Finley!) often being framed while staring at her as if she's an object. Some would argue that Dominique is empowered - in her own way - by this gaze, but Danielle seems to barely notice it. Salt's Grace faces a different set of looks from the males, as both the police officers and the private investigator (Charles Durning) who she enlists in her cause hear her demands and look at her as if she's from a different planet.
There's a chasm between Danielle and Grace when it comes to why people are staring at them. Danielle is desired by the men in her life, because she literally plays the role of bait using her looks and is totally willing to fall into the roles that her modeling and acting promote in her. Grace, however, is determined to buck the trend and be seen as an equal to any reporter, which leads her to an uncertain approach from those around her. The male characters - and maybe even the male viewers like myself - aren't comfortable around Grace because of her aggressive approach to those around her. Danielle, on the other hand, uses her feminine side to her advantage to get what she wants when she can.
The fact of the matter is that neither actress fits their performance into what we'd expect from a woman in an average horror film, and the result is three unique characters that don't fit into standard gender roles. There's not really a hero that we pull for or a villain we despise, just a group of women who are the focal point of an entirely fascinating script. Like Hitchcock's Vertigo, it becomes evident as the film goes on that the viewer doesn't have a specific side to pull for - which gives the viewer the chance to just sit back and enjoy the ride.
Though the characters in Sisters are far from the shining ideal of what a woman in horror can be, I adore the fact that the two actresses are given so much power to do interesting things as the film unfolds. Sisters might not seem to advance the portrayal of women in horror on the surface, but De Palma (and co-writer Louisa Rose) do a great job of keeping the viewer off balance with these three unconventional female characters. There are a lot of other great things going on in Sisters too - I could recommend the film entirely based on the fantastic final shot, which reminds us that voyeurism can be a dead end - but the unique roles for these actresses make it a great film to check out during Women in Horror Recognition Month.
The film spends most of its time with Kidder's Danielle & Dominique, and it allows the actress to portray both monster and victim. Danielle generally seems delicate and seems naive, while the moments we share with Dominique are raw and vicious. Kidder does a good job of handling the disconnect between two characters who seem to be on opposite ends of the human spectrum, and Salt covers the middle ground as the nosy Grace Collier quite well.
While the problems the twins face are probably foreign to most women, Ms. Collier is forced to deal with more common, everyday issues. She has built a name in the newspaper industry by "calling it like she sees it", and thus has made enemies with several men, including the police force. At the same time she has to put up with her overbearing mother, who reminds her that people her age are getting married and refers to her job, which Grace is quite passionate about, as a hobby. As she fights through these issues with some pushy tactics, Grace becomes abrasive to even the viewer. I often find myself disliking the character - despite knowing she's right - simply because of her mannerisms as she searches for the truth.
Opposite these women are a host of voyeuristic males. The male gaze has always been a key proponent of De Palma's films, but it seems like the male characters in Sisters are all judging the movements of Kidder and Salt's characters. The most obvious examples surround Danielle, with both her gentleman caller (played by Lisle Wilson) and her ex-husband (future Phantom of the Paradise William Finley!) often being framed while staring at her as if she's an object. Some would argue that Dominique is empowered - in her own way - by this gaze, but Danielle seems to barely notice it. Salt's Grace faces a different set of looks from the males, as both the police officers and the private investigator (Charles Durning) who she enlists in her cause hear her demands and look at her as if she's from a different planet.
There's a chasm between Danielle and Grace when it comes to why people are staring at them. Danielle is desired by the men in her life, because she literally plays the role of bait using her looks and is totally willing to fall into the roles that her modeling and acting promote in her. Grace, however, is determined to buck the trend and be seen as an equal to any reporter, which leads her to an uncertain approach from those around her. The male characters - and maybe even the male viewers like myself - aren't comfortable around Grace because of her aggressive approach to those around her. Danielle, on the other hand, uses her feminine side to her advantage to get what she wants when she can.
The fact of the matter is that neither actress fits their performance into what we'd expect from a woman in an average horror film, and the result is three unique characters that don't fit into standard gender roles. There's not really a hero that we pull for or a villain we despise, just a group of women who are the focal point of an entirely fascinating script. Like Hitchcock's Vertigo, it becomes evident as the film goes on that the viewer doesn't have a specific side to pull for - which gives the viewer the chance to just sit back and enjoy the ride.
Though the characters in Sisters are far from the shining ideal of what a woman in horror can be, I adore the fact that the two actresses are given so much power to do interesting things as the film unfolds. Sisters might not seem to advance the portrayal of women in horror on the surface, but De Palma (and co-writer Louisa Rose) do a great job of keeping the viewer off balance with these three unconventional female characters. There are a lot of other great things going on in Sisters too - I could recommend the film entirely based on the fantastic final shot, which reminds us that voyeurism can be a dead end - but the unique roles for these actresses make it a great film to check out during Women in Horror Recognition Month.
February 11, 2011
Midnight Movie of the Week #58 - Carnival of Souls
"I understand what makes a woman feel like any man is better than nothing. I've just never understood what makes her feel like she has nothing." - Jeremy Goodwin
That's a quote from my co-favorite television show, Sports Night, and I'm not entirely sure why it came to mind when I started thinking about Carnival of Souls. This isn't to say that I think Herk Harvey's independent horror masterpiece - which might be the gold standard for all low budget products of passion - is about our lead characters' search for romance. It's just that, with each viewing of the film, I feel a little sadder about the plight of poor Mary Henry. She just might be the most doomed woman in the history of horror, and I don't know why.
Having seen the film nearly a dozen times, I of course know the literal reason why there are strange things happening to Mary. And, although the film's plot was pretty revolutionary at the time, it shouldn't take long for today's viewer to piece together what's going on in the film. Despite the fact that anyone with a basic knowledge of modern storytelling will see the "twist" coming a mile away, Mary's plight still creates a haunting unease in me. From the beginning of the film, Mary Henry - as played by Candace Hilligoss - has the look of a sad, lonely puppy. And the strange thing is...most of the characters treat her like one.
Then there's her creeper neighbor, played by Sidney Berger, who Roger Ebert called the "definitive study of a nerd in lust". While other acquaintances have been at least human toward Mary, Berger's John Linden takes the hound dog approach to gaining her attention. He offers her food and drink, a move that could have been nice in a weird Lady and the Tramp kind of way, but his male gaze toward her is obvious and unsettling. With the tact of a pitbull and the yap of an overzealous basset hound, John Linden is most certainly not the answer to Mary's problems, despite his pleas to the contrary.
What will help Mary out of her funk? We honestly never know. She struts around with her head high and shows a desire for independence, but when she is actually secluded from society - as unknown forces make her seemingly invisible to the world around her - she begins to bounce from person to person seeking validation. She isn't looking for love (which, in the dog analogy, would be equal to ownership), but it's clear that she deeply needs someone or something to give her attention - and that being unable to fulfill her needs is deeply affecting her well-being.
(Also, the film gains extra points due to Hilligoss' performance as Mary, not only because she's fantastic in the film, but because she would basically disappear from acting after only one more side role (in 1964's The Curse of the Living Corpse, which is more notable for being Roy Scheider's film debut). How exactly does an actress in the horror genre, where fans are rabid and producers are shameless, just disappear after such an iconic, mesmerizing performance? I really want to know.)
There's no glimmer of hope for Mary. There's no light at the end of the tunnel. All there is is an abandoned carnival and a man, "The Man", played by director Harvey. It's as obvious to Mary as it is to the viewer that this Man is certainly not what she's looking for either, but it becomes increasingly clear that The Man is looking specifically for her. Though Mary can run to a therapist or scream "I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE!" to the heavens, there seems to be no way that she can escape the gaze of The Man. Despite the fact we've spent all this time watching her, the viewer really doesn't know who she is or what she needs either.
As I've already said, most modern viewers should know what's going on in Carnival of Souls immediately. In fact, I've probably said more than enough to give away the plot's final twist here. But the film still manages to get under my skin as much as any classic horror film, because it introduces us to this woman and then treats her like a worthless animal for 80 minutes.
Harvey lets the film spiral to its conclusion - using some incredibly haunting imagery for a low budget film of 1962 - and I'm left amazed at how much I can care for a thinly developed character who got the short straw. Mary Henry is no less than abused by the souls that surround her, and it's tough to see a woman who truly has nothing face such madness. The final result is one of the most fascinating women ever put on the horror screen, and one of the most engrossing examples of just what independent horror can do.
February 3, 2011
Midnight Movie of the Week #57 - Attack of the 50 Foot Woman
(I wonder what people who use the metric system call this movie?)
It seems like a weird film to call up during Women in Horror Month - it's not commonly thought of as horror and it's kind of a crap movie - but 1958's Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (not to be confused with the vapid remake that was shockingly directed by the brilliant Christopher Guest) has often made me stop and wonder. The sci-fi/horrors of this era generally warned of communists, preached paranoia, and often settled on religion as the worlds' only hope. They were films that attempted to convince audiences that a strong and practical husband and a proper and subservient wife were also needed to survive whatever dramatic trauma the world could send our way. Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, however, does not subscribe to these theories.
In fact, it seems like 90% of the movie is about how bad marriage can be. Nancy and Harry Archer are not at all a happy couple, as the film begins with frantic Nancy - a former mental patient - driving angry and running into a floating orb which has been spotted across the globe and seems to have touched down to terrorize her. In the meantime, Harry is publicly snuggling up with a barroom honey named...Honey. They talk about how hard it is for him to get a divorce and talk his rich wife's money, and how much easier things would be if she were dead. All while Nancy is freaking out and telling the world she saw a flying saucer. It's most certainly not the template for a happy couple.
Nancy is played by Allison Hayes, who had previously appeared opposite John Carradine and Tor Johnson in The Unearthly (which featured Tor's iconic order "TIME FOR GO TO BED!") and played the female lead in Zombies of Mora Tau. A former contestant in the Miss America pageant, Hayes was often cast for her good looks - yet the opening acts of Attack present her primarily as a bitter woman who can't even turn her own husband's head. It wasn't until the second half of the film that she cemented her status as a B-movie icon.
In most regards, if you start a film with a volatile ex-mental patient and then they're transformed into a giant, house shattering creature who wants revenge - that's what people call a horror movie. (It should also be noted that the giant house shattering creature is angry because their husband tried to kill them...WITH A SYRINGE THAT HAD A HUGE NEEDLE.) But in this case, no one seems to talk about Attack of the 50 Foot Woman as a horror flick - because people aren't afraid of a monster that competed in the Miss America pageant. Perhaps those people forget that quote about a woman scorned, because I think we don't give MEGA NANCY enough credit as one of the truly empowered women of genre cinema.
While most drive-in flicks of this time period were telling women to bake goodies and scream for their husband's help, the message we get here seems to be along the lines of "don't put up with an ignorant husband". And while the film primarily made its name on spectacle - What dude doesn't want to stare at a towering model with an exposed midriff? - a male viewer with a clear mind will probably be reminded that being unfaithful can bring a full-scale rage upon them.
I don't know, maybe Attack of the 50 Foot Woman is just a silly b-movie that exists as an excuse to show off a giant makeshift bikini and the amazonian lass who inhabits it. But the portrayal of Nancy Archer, in spite of Hayes' limited range, always seems like an aberration in the '50s sci-fi/horror subgenre to me. This is a rare bit of pulp terror that gives the female character power of the male character, and for that I have to salute Ms. Hayes and those behind the film for doing something unique with what could have easily been something more kitschy. The film may have gained greater acceptance had they played up the comedy and made it resemble an episode of Leave It To Beaver, but Attack of the 50 Foot Woman instead lives on as the tale of a woman who literally refuses to shrink away from her husband's attention.
It seems like a weird film to call up during Women in Horror Month - it's not commonly thought of as horror and it's kind of a crap movie - but 1958's Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (not to be confused with the vapid remake that was shockingly directed by the brilliant Christopher Guest) has often made me stop and wonder. The sci-fi/horrors of this era generally warned of communists, preached paranoia, and often settled on religion as the worlds' only hope. They were films that attempted to convince audiences that a strong and practical husband and a proper and subservient wife were also needed to survive whatever dramatic trauma the world could send our way. Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, however, does not subscribe to these theories.
In fact, it seems like 90% of the movie is about how bad marriage can be. Nancy and Harry Archer are not at all a happy couple, as the film begins with frantic Nancy - a former mental patient - driving angry and running into a floating orb which has been spotted across the globe and seems to have touched down to terrorize her. In the meantime, Harry is publicly snuggling up with a barroom honey named...Honey. They talk about how hard it is for him to get a divorce and talk his rich wife's money, and how much easier things would be if she were dead. All while Nancy is freaking out and telling the world she saw a flying saucer. It's most certainly not the template for a happy couple.
Nancy is played by Allison Hayes, who had previously appeared opposite John Carradine and Tor Johnson in The Unearthly (which featured Tor's iconic order "TIME FOR GO TO BED!") and played the female lead in Zombies of Mora Tau. A former contestant in the Miss America pageant, Hayes was often cast for her good looks - yet the opening acts of Attack present her primarily as a bitter woman who can't even turn her own husband's head. It wasn't until the second half of the film that she cemented her status as a B-movie icon.
In most regards, if you start a film with a volatile ex-mental patient and then they're transformed into a giant, house shattering creature who wants revenge - that's what people call a horror movie. (It should also be noted that the giant house shattering creature is angry because their husband tried to kill them...WITH A SYRINGE THAT HAD A HUGE NEEDLE.) But in this case, no one seems to talk about Attack of the 50 Foot Woman as a horror flick - because people aren't afraid of a monster that competed in the Miss America pageant. Perhaps those people forget that quote about a woman scorned, because I think we don't give MEGA NANCY enough credit as one of the truly empowered women of genre cinema.
While most drive-in flicks of this time period were telling women to bake goodies and scream for their husband's help, the message we get here seems to be along the lines of "don't put up with an ignorant husband". And while the film primarily made its name on spectacle - What dude doesn't want to stare at a towering model with an exposed midriff? - a male viewer with a clear mind will probably be reminded that being unfaithful can bring a full-scale rage upon them.
I don't know, maybe Attack of the 50 Foot Woman is just a silly b-movie that exists as an excuse to show off a giant makeshift bikini and the amazonian lass who inhabits it. But the portrayal of Nancy Archer, in spite of Hayes' limited range, always seems like an aberration in the '50s sci-fi/horror subgenre to me. This is a rare bit of pulp terror that gives the female character power of the male character, and for that I have to salute Ms. Hayes and those behind the film for doing something unique with what could have easily been something more kitschy. The film may have gained greater acceptance had they played up the comedy and made it resemble an episode of Leave It To Beaver, but Attack of the 50 Foot Woman instead lives on as the tale of a woman who literally refuses to shrink away from her husband's attention.
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