- Original theatrical poster - image courtesy of Vinnierattolle
As is Citizen Kane is Orson Welles, Do the Right Thing to Spike Lee and 2001: A Space Odyssey to Stanley Kubrick, so is Plan 9 from Outer Space to Edward D. Wood, Jr., a man who is, for better or worse, frequently cited as the worst movie director to have ever lived, and Plan 9 the worst movie ever made. Give the man props: even with uniformly terrible reception in his lifetime, he kept on making movies, never giving up the dream.
The far-reaching notoriety of Plan 9 can even be found in an early episode of Seinfeld--one of the best of the early seasons--"The Chinese Restaurant," in which Jerry, Elaine and George wait (and wait, and wait) to be seated for a meal before a one-night screening of the classic film. Of course the smarmy Seinfeld would take to its cheesy infamy. "This isn't like plans one through eight. This is plan nine, the one that worked! The worst movie ever made!"
Hyperbolic though they are, such statements aren't entirely without merit, as films like Plan 9 (see also Bride of the Monster and Night of the Ghouls) are host to no shortage of blatantly cheap production values, amateurish performances, frequent continuity errors, unconvincing special effects, jarringly incorporated stock footage, absurd dialogue, and more. Yet the films of Ed Wood have always been about more than just their rudimentary incompetence. Skilled or not, the man loved to make movies, and to those able and willing to look closely enough, it shows.
It's fitting that Plan 9 has gone down as Wood's most enduring film, as it represents something of a perfect culmination of the director's strangely formidable style. The story is almost beside the point. Flying saucers are making their presence known in Hollywood and thereabout, and have been in the atmosphere for some time, their existence officially denied by the government and those who see them bound by secrecy. The aliens - which look exactly like we humans, except maybe more disgruntled - have had enough of mankind's childish refusal to interact with them, and, once friendly, are now prepared to take extreme action.
In keeping with many films of the day, Plan 9 comes down to a cautionary tale, of sorts. Aware of mankind's discovery of the atomic and hydrogen bombs, the aliens have come to stop humanity from discovering the next level of weaponry: solarbonite, which, if used, would explode sunlight, causing a chain reaction that would eventually destroy the entire universe. Among many heights of camp practically dadaesque in nature, an alien (not unreasonably) chastises a power-hungry human: "You see? You see? Your stupid minds! Stupid! Stupid!"
During an age of anti-nuclear parables, this scenario, while juvenile in conception, points to an indelible rage at the risks so many people were willing to take in the name of science and country. Alas, like so many of his films, Plan 9 is as much about the movie Ed Wood wanted to make as it is about the movie he was able to make with the resources afforded to him. The man had to take what he could get, and when a religious organization backing the film objected to the original title, "Grave Robbers from Outer Space" was ditched in favor of the now-infamous moniker.
Plan 9 frequently shows its barely held-together seams. Several unrelated scenes shot with Bela Lugosi before the actor's death have been shoehorned into the film, while a stand-in with a cape held over his face (actually Wood's wife's chiropractor) replaces him, unconvincingly, for the remainder. The celebrity Criswell (aka The Amazing Criswell, a friend of Wood) bookends the film with stentorian proclamations of what is yet to come, and a narration by the eccentric psychic was added throughout the film so as to better tie the scenes together. Ramshackle special effects are obvious throughout--homemade flying saucers dangle blatantly from strings, etc.--while scenes alternate between night and day as if on a toggle switch.
To those who watch the film with more in mind than playing Whack-a-Mole, there are charms to be had beyond merely spotting as many mistakes as possible. Ignoring the more basic building blocks of cinema, it's a weird exercise in economy (such as the death of Lugosi's character, which occurs awkwardly offscreen, for lack of footage) and attempted artistry. Wood's dialogue is flowery, faux Shakespearean prose of the highest order; look no further than Criswell's introduction to the film. If you aren't smiling by the third time he's said "future" in two sentences, this movie isn't for you.
Anyone who's watched their fair share of grade Z cinema can affirm that, as formally bad as Plan 9 is, it easily beats most of the competition on the virtues of being endlessly entertaining and fascinating. Details didn't much matter to Wood, from the sets on down, and there's a kind of twisted poetry to be found in scenery so fake and performances so broad and raw as to approach avant-garde status. The actors don't seem to be acting so much as behaving, which fits the tone of the film like a glove.
When an airplane suffers turbulence from a passerby flying saucer, the pilots' physical performances are laughably fake, yet they go with it. The entire film reflects this kind of straight-faced determination. Ed Wood might've had a rotten product (he certainly lacked the means to assemble them), but he was an undaunted salesman. There's no universally agreed-up measuring stick for films like this, but there are few who would argue otherwise: Plan 9 from Outer Space is Ed Wood's masterpiece.
Plan 9 from Outer Space is available in its entirety on YouTube ( click here).
Plan 9 from Outer Space. Dir. Edward D. Wood, Jr. Perf. Gregory Walcott, Mona McKinnon, Duke Moore, Tom Keene, Carl Anthony, Paul Marco, Tor Johnson, Dudley Manlove, Bela Lugosi. Valiant Pictures, 1959. Running Time: 79 min.
