REPTILICUS (1962) REPTILICUS (1962)

Hey there! Y'know, I had the most wonderful day today...I slept for about, oh, five or six hours on Jeff's couch, got up, ate some Tender Vittles, chased my tail for a while, went to the litter-box, chased my tail again, then slept twelve hours more. Then Jeff asked me to introduce this piece of dreck! (Sigh!) Oh, the things I have to do to earn my keep around here.....



Y'ever wonder what it would be like if film-makers from, oh, I dunno...Denmark went and made their own giant-monster-on-the-loose-type movie (not unlike your typical Japanese monster epic)? Think it'd, be, well...different, to say the least, right? Well, those wacky Danes did attempt such a monster-bash in the early '60's...and this is where our sad involvement begins.


"I'm comin', Beany Boy!!!"


 An oil-drilling crew is going about its usual business, draining Mother Earth of her precious fluids without a care in the world, when their drill hits something beneath the earth's crust. When our boys bring up their big ol' drill, they discover that the stuff they just hit is a big hunk of flesh from who-knows-whatever's resting in peace down there. The scientific community, represented by Professor Martens (Asbjorn Andersen) is naturally interested; turns out that there piece of meat came off the perfectly-preserved tail of some prehistoric critter that just happened to get hisself frozen stiff during the last ice age. The rest of the tail is excavated then sent to the local aquarium(?)...

(Okay...so far, so good. Our movie in question is starting off at a brisk clip, even though the concept of sending a frozen dinosaur tail to an aquarium is a trifle iffy, logic-wise. Ah, but wait, o faithful one...the Goofy-Meter starts taking a real beating real soon...)

Anyhow, we later discover completely by accident (some goofus left the freezer door open, unthawing the tail inside) that this here dinosaur tail is actually alive...and regenerating itself into a new dinosaur altogether (look, I know this sounds totally unlikely, but bear with me, huh?). Concerned with what may happen should this critter bolt off, the U.S. Army sends the perpetually grouchy-faced General Mark Grayson (Carl Ottosen) over to check out what the heck's going on.


General Nuisance, AKA "Major Indifference"...


 Now, you might just think that when the General arrives that things start happening, right? Guess again, Bunny--when our man of action arrives at the aquarium, he's greeted by Professor Martens and his daughters Lise and Karen (Ann Smyrner and Mimi Heinrich). Soon our man-in-uniform is sent off on a whirlwind (read: stock footage) tour of Copenhagen, accompanied by the totally forgettable song "Tivoli Nights." Needless to say, the only thing this scene adds to our tale is running time.

Then, things start happening (and the Greek chorus shouts "finally!"). For some unforeseen reason, the creature at the aquarium has a sudden growth spurt (followed by hair growing in certain areas.....aw, c'mon! I'm kidding about the hair!), and then busts out of its prison. General Grayson and his men soon are on the trail of the monster; they run into a terrified farmer who says that "fourteen of my best cows!" were eaten by some godawful monster. Now, mind you all, I myself have never been to Denmark, but from what I understand about the place, there's quite a bit of open terrain there--about as much as, say, rural Wisconsin. I could be wrong. But it says plenty about the ability of the men led by General Grayson (or, frankly, the script of this movie) when they can't flush out a hundred-foot-or-so-sized monster in this kind of open area. It's like looking for The Statue of Liberty in the middle of the Montana prairie--how can you miss it? But I digress...

Suddenly...(insert dramatic music sting here!)...while General Grayson and his men interrogate Farmer Brown, he (and, unfortunately, we) gets his first look at the very critter that's causing all the hubbub...


(Sigh!) At least it isn't the American Godzilla...


To say that Reptilicus (the name of the monster in question) is unconvincing would be one of the greatest understatements in the history of cinema; apart from the title monster in The Giant Claw (which has a plot of its own reserved in the Graveyard of Movies, I promise), there hasn't been a more cheaply-done, goofier-looking monster in any movie I can think of...and that says plenty. Reptilicus himself is (too) obviously a dinky marionette cavorting around on some of the worst miniature sets ever filmed, but there's more (actually less) to our star than just that. Reptilicus is constructed as a snake-like creature with itty-bitty front legs, dragon scales and a dragon's head with the same piece of green drool dripping from its unmoving mouth, as well as some very tiny wings. Why the wings? Well, in the original Danish prints, Reptilicus flew. When the heads at American-International saw the scenes of Reptilicus aloft, these scenes were cut out of the American version it released. (Why such a big deal? Well, watch the scenes of the monster thrashing around a papier-mache metropolis on clearly-visible wires. Then imagine that same monster in flight...need I say more?) So how does Reptilicus go from place to place then? Beats me...the movie never tells us.


Back to the story...anyway, Reptilicus chows down on the farmer (or rather, a cartoon cutout of the farmer...you gotta see it to believe it, folks), and General Grayson and his men open fire on the marionette...er, monster...to no avail. General Grayson further compounds this spectacular military failure (Vietnam was still a few years in the future...) by using flame-throwers and (when it's in the water) depth-charges against it...again, to no avail.

"I'm Popeye the Sailor Maaan...AAAAAAARRRGH!!!"


Meanwhile, on the beaches of Denmark (the scenes of guys and gals in swimsuits suggests a Danish Beach Blanket Bingo,) Reptilicus bobs his rubber head out of the water and lays waste to the summertime beach-frolic by puking green acid-slime on everyone. That's right...Godzilla has his awesome fire-breath, and Reptilicus has icky-green acid loogies for a weapon. Why? Beats me...all I know is that it looks incredibly lame. (This idea, by the way, was not in the actual script...go figure.)

Soon, Professor Martens informs General Grayson that such subtle means of destruction such as bombs and mortars are ill-advised in the futile bitch-slap against the mutant marionette. For you see, if Reptilicus could be regenerated from a hunk'a tail, then a whole lotta hunks could regenerate a whole lotta Reptilici...er, Reptilicusses...whatever (In fact, one of the creature's dinky arms got blown off earlier by a depth charge...more on that later). Then the general has a hissy-fit 'cause he can't blow Reptilicus to Kingdom Come and Then Some...how can ya get rid of a monster if ya can't blow it to bits? Then the one of the scientist's daughters suggests putting it to sleep with a chemical mixture delivered into the monster's mouth. Frankly, they could've just saved themselves the effort and shown Reptilicus this movie...guaranteed same results.

So on the streets of Copenhagen, General Grayson finds Reptilicus trashing some cheesy cardboard buildings; the only way to deliver the sleeping-drug, it's discovered, is to fire it from a bazooka at point-blank range into the monster's mouth. One of the general's men hops on a Jeep with the bazooka and blasts the shell into Reptilicus' mouth. Sure enough, the creature goes nappy-time on the street; how they actually kill the monster is a mystery to everyone concerned, because no one explains it before the closing credits are shoved onto the screen a few seconds later. The End.

(Well, not yet; remember that arm that got blown off earlier? The final shot is that same arm twitching by itself beneath the sea, growing a new body[!] With the horrifying prospect of a "Reptilicus II" planted into their minds, the audience then trashes the theater, burns the director in effigy, and demands its money back. The End...for real.)

As you can no doubt tell, Reptilicus is a truly wretched, truly awful movie. Nothing at all about it works...the Danish actors, who actually gave their lines in English during shooting, had to be dubbed by American actors later on (screenwriter Ib Melchior confessed that he himself had to dub the dialogue for at least six different actors), and it only worsens their already-terrible performances. The comic-relief janitor at the aquarium (who looks like a ghastly cross-breeding between Jerry Lewis and Kramer from Seinfeld) is especially godawful.


Also, the story shows signs of being picked apart here and there; in the original story, the monster was actually disassembled at the end, its scales pulled apart and each and every fragment destroyed (of course, there's still that there arm a-growin' out at sea...). And as I mentioned earlier, the bit about Reptilicus' hocking up acid-slime was added on at the last minute by director Sidney Pink, no doubt to provide some kind of unique gimmick. I'ts unique all right, but not in the way it was intended...


And then...(heavy sigh!)...there are the atrocious special effects, which we've already spent a great deal of energy on. In my sources, I haven't been able to locate credits on the people responsible for the effects work in Reptilicus, and frankly, that's just as well.


Reptilicus earned a very unique distincion in B-moviedom: it has the very dubious reputation of being a movie so thouroughly awful that American International Pictures almost refused to distribute it. Note I said "almost"; the excised scenes of the title monster in flight and the dubbing of the Danish actors helped change its mind. But it took a while for AIP to do so; from Bill Warren's essential book on '50's SF movies, "Keep Watching The Skies!"(McFarland,1986), verbatim:


The film was completed in 1960, an seems to have been delivered to American International, which co-financed it, late that year or early in 1961. In that form, the film was even too awful for AIP to release, and they actually sued [producer/co-director]Sid Pink. According to an article in the 29 June 1961 Film Daily, AIP filed suit "seeking declaratory relief and clarification by the court...Cited as basis of the suit is a contract assertedly entered into March 7, 1960, and an amendment dated Feb. 1, 1961. In an extensive presentation of the AIP claim, which also asks general and punitive damages in several amounts on a number of individual complaints, it is set forth that defendants [Pink, Bernard Greenbaum, and Cinemagic, Inc.] agreed to produce and deliver a picture of the stated title [Reptilicus], conforming to several physical requirements, at a given date, now past, and did not perform the contracted production activities agreed upon."

Two months later, Sid Pink sued American International and Monarch Books. He alleged "unauthorized use of his name in publication of the book Reptilicus. Complaint alleged that in book written by Dean Owen, Pink was identified as author of the original story on which picture of the same title was based, and from which book was adapted, without Pink's consent. As a result...Pink was held up to 'public contempt and ridicule.' Book...contained passages of 'such lewd, lascivious and wanton desire as to inflame unsavory and lascivious desires in the reader."

...[A]s far as public ridicule and contempt go, nothing could have brought more of both that the film Reptilicus itself. Nonetheless, Pink's nuisance suit had the desired effect. It stirred up AIP, who had Pink's suit dismissed almost immediately. Their own $1,530,000 suit must have been resolved satisfactorily to all parties. The movie, like Pink's Journey to the 7th Planet, was "fixed up"--presumably by dubbing and the removal of the flying scenes--and released the next year, confirming the uncaring nature of American International."


If this were a perfect world, o gentle reader, that myriad of lawsuits between Sid Pink and American International would have been tangled in a briar-patch of red-tape and legalese...so much so, that maybe, just maybe, Reptilicus would still be sitting in a studio vault somewhere, unreleased and collecting dust, the fate it truly, truly deserves.


Sigh!

--Jeff "Widget" Myers




CREDITS:Directors: Sidney Pink and Poul Bang, Producer/Story: Sidney Pink, Screenplay: Sidney Pink and Ib Melchior, Executive Producer: Johann H. Zalabery, Danish adaptation: Poul Bang and Bob Ramsing, Set Decorations: Otto Lund, Helge Hansen and Kai Koed, Director of Photography: Aage Wiltrup, Editors: Svend Mehling and Edith Nisted Nielsen, Music: Sven Gyldmark, Songs: Victor Skaarup, Sound: Georg Jensen and Poul Nyrup, Sound Effects editor: Kay Rose, Make-up: Calma, Miniatures: Kay Koed, Production Supervisor: Erik Larsen.


CAST:Brigadier General Mark Grayson: Carl Ottosen, Lise Martens: Ann Smyrner, Karen Martens: Mimi Heinrich, Professor Otto Martens: Asbjorn Anderson, Connie Miller: Marla Behrens, Svend Viltofft: Bent Majding, Dr. Peter Dalby: Poul Wildaker, Petersen: Dirk Passer, Captain Brandt: Ole Wisborg, Birthe Wilke (the "Tivoli Nights" lounge singer): Herself, Police Chief Hassing: Mogens Brandt, Olsen: Kjeld Petersen.


1962; a Cinemagic/Alta Vista/Saga Film production for American International Pictures. Pathecolor; 81 minutes in the U.S. (the Danish cut runs 90 minutes). A U.S./Danish co-production.


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