- Original theatrical poster - image courtesy of Wrong Side of the Art
Attack of the Giant Leeches was one of producer Roger Corman’s better quickies, and if that articulation of praise in any way suggests a similarity between a larger cinematic experience and the primordial satisfaction one craves from more, say, physical, pleasures, then so be it. Serious movie lovers often reckon with particular favorites as if they were an evolving relationship (well, they are), in which immediate attraction is typically usurped by deeper, if not necessarily stronger, appreciations. This particular monster opus is a fling equivalent, spontaneous and brisk and giddy. Sometimes, we all can use a one night stand.
Corman’s films display great skill with the establishment of mood and manipulation of basic, usually minimal scenery, suggesting the filmmaking spark of Ed Wood with a bit more in the way of practical talent and budgetary resources, but only just on that latter point. The giant leeches in question are larger than an average human, complete with arm-like appendages that aid in the capturing of their prey and subsequent stowing of it, so they can drain their blood over a few days time.
The creepy sound file used for the leeches goes a long way in selling their bloodthirsty presence, but in the disjointed snippets we’re afforded when it comes to actually them, it’s more than a bit obvious that these are just guys in suits. It should have run with it more instead of just trying to disguise it. Just imagine: they could be giant zombie leeches!...but I digress.
The film’s miniscule budget shines through elsewhere, but it’s of little long-lasting importance; in fact, I suspect that a more extravagant approach would upset the low-key chords being deliberately struck. Bernard Kowalski’s sophomore effort is more assured, and dense, and hey, it didn’t hurt James Cameron to be under Roger Corman’s oversight, either. It also boasts another in the line of excellent, intoxicating Alexander Laszlo scores.
Despite their frustrating elusiveness, the ragged look of the leeches (like the film) adds to their creepiness, particularly during a freakish montage of the worms draining blood from their victims, like some depraved bondage orgy. The film is truly perfect fodder for the sex-filled exploitation genre, and on its own terms, it’s superior than it would have been had it more than coyly indulged these matters.
If The Giant Leeches is competent junk, 1957’s Attack of the Crab Monsters is close to great trash. Suffice to say that the film is smarter than you’d be right in expecting a movie called Attack of the Crab Monsters to be, and this is in part because the crabs themselves are that much smarter, too. If you’re going to commit to a wild premise – in this case, giant crustaceans – why not go crazy? As if announcing its intentions, the film ensures that we see at least one absent human head within the first ten minutes. The ensuring build-up to revealing the crabs is palpable and kind of brilliant, particularly in its sound design.
A cheesy delight that doesn’t condescend to the audience, The Crab Monsters is, for once, a scary movie in which the human characters are actually intelligent beings capable of fighting for their lives with energy and wit to spare. Corman directed this one, and it bears his stamp of stretching his filmmaking dollar while maintaining a kind of broadly firm aesthetic stance. Which can be historically traced to have influenced the genesis of The Terminator, a key successors of this rich era in science fiction, and more. Actually, what I said before was wrong. Attack of the Crab Monsters is great trash, and I use that term with genuine love.
Attack of the Giant Leeches is available on YouTube, as well as Attack of the Crab Monsters.
Attack of the Giant Leeches. Dir. Bernard L. Kowalski. Perf. Ken Clark, Yvette Vickers, Jan Shepard, Michael Emmet, Tyler McVey, Bruno VeSota, Gene Roth, Dan White, George Cisar. American International Pictures, 1959. Running Time: 60 min. 3 out of 5 stars (no halves).
Attack of the Crab Monsters. Dir. Roger Corman. Perf. Richard Garland, Pamela Duncan, Russell Johnson, Leslie Bradley, Mel Welles, Richard H. Cutting, Beach Dickerson. Allied Artists, 1957. Running Time: 62 min. 4 out of 5 stars (no halves).
