THE BLOB. Tasty piece of science fiction thriller

Next on the list are Invaders from Mars by Tobe Hooper, distinguished only by the special effects from the always reliable Stan Winston. The film, rather an average copy of 50s productions, instead of relying on the original ideas, creatively expanding them, and playing with the audience’s expectations, lazily copies them point by point and nothing more. By the way, about Hooper, the guy is a perfect example of a director who peaked with ‘Kill ‘Em All,’ in this case, the joke fits, especially when it comes to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. However, Hooper should be credited for his flashes of genius during his work on Poltergeist (although it’s hard to say today how much credit goes to Spielberg), and also the highly underrated Lifeforce.  The last title, saved for dessert, is (aptly) the story of geometrically progressing cosmic jelly that spreads through a small town in California and devours everything in its path, aka The Blob. Although you’re a fast runner, this voracious, gelatinous T-1000 will catch you anyway.

The film is quite specific, sitting astride what Carpenter and Cronenberg presented in their films and Hooper’s hiccup.

One of the main problems is sticking too closely to the plot skeleton of the original film and the lack of genre weight required by the subject matter. Chuck Russell and Frank Darabont (yes, from those Darabonts) after their joint success with the third part of Freddy Krueger’s dream voyages probably thought that making an atypical horror for teenagers would be the perfect solution. I say atypical because both gentlemen did not simply follow the 80s MTV horror trend, but played with the idea of a teenage thriller, pointing a finger at the hypocrisy of puritanical America (screen guts vs loins) and mocking movie clichés, for example, through the characters watching the slasher film Garden Tool Massacre or the scene of the Blob ‘s attack on a high school erotomaniac.

I keep wondering how good the film could have been if, for example, Cronenberg were behind the camera… Just a month ago, I watched The Fly as a Valentine’s movie with my lady, and again, a knockout. Playing with the idea of teleportation and brilliant special effects are just an addition; here, it’s about the gradually descending into madness scientist, the dying young god trying to counter the degradation of his own body and mind, fighting to save his humanity. Man, his emotions and fears, physical and mental weaknesses, technology, acceptance of one’s mortality, over which the stench of human tissue decay hovers – I could go on for a long time. What I mean is that the director took on a stupid, seemingly, idea and, without taking prisoners, squeezed the last drops from it to melt and digest the gray substance during the screening. But okay, no need to cry because The Blob is still a solid and fun film in its simplicity.

The whole small-town horror fun begins when a homeless can collector is attacked by the blob during a reconnaissance of the meteorite impact site, all because he uses one of the oldest measuring devices invented by the first primates, namely a piece of stick. Yes, classic stick poking, which Americans have mastered to perfection and which not only takes place in a whole bunch of horrors but is also one of the favorite activities of bored residents of the Yankee redneck – want to check if the machete-wielding psycho chasing you is dead, or if the cosmic contraption that fell from the sky is harmless? Poke it with a stick… and now run away, because we’re only fifteen minutes into the movie, and I feel like you’re about to face the monster!

Meanwhile, we get to know the main characters, a charming high school girl, a likable football player, and a Triumph-riding Kevin Dillon – a local troublemaker with a mullet the size of a toilet doormat falling onto his back. By the way, you can say what you want, but for me, this classic 80s mullet is one of the best things that ever happened in the history of men’s hairstyles, especially in American cinema. Can you imagine Riggs in Lethal Weapon, in jeans, cowboy boots, with a Beretta on his belt and a pipe in his mouth, but without that classic Australian sheepskin run protecting his neck? That’s exactly what I thought. The mullet was a truly lion’s mane, a symbol of machismo, and a real gift from God, giving its owner Samson-like powers to overcome film adversities and enemies.

The Blob connects people (into one shapeless mass), so our trio comes together and takes the homeless victim, being devoured alive, to the hospital. There, the cosmic mess finishes its meal on a veiny old man, in a spectacular way digesting the young athlete, after which the bored hospital eateries head into town for something to eat. The real fun begins here because the slippery blob shows tactical abilities and an unbridled hunger, attacking its victims in increasingly sophisticated ways. Special mention (again, I’ll write it again: practical special effects, lots of love-love) goes to the owner of the diner defending herself in a phone booth, the cinema employee suctioned to the ceiling, and the high school erotomaniac pulled in through the sink drain – I really admire the creativity shown by the creators to present the adventures of the voracious blob on the screen.

Our pink hero thrives, grows rapidly, and soon is ready to absorb all the townspeople in all its glory. At the same time, the military, scientists, and government specialists reach the blob ‘s landing site, who, as usual in such films, quickly turn out to be evil, inefficient, incompetent, abuse power, and generally do everything wrong. The attempt by scientists to control the slime ends in failure, and the irritated creature with double force attacks the residents. In this tornado of chaos and panic, only the young high school girl and the rebellious biker take the initiative in the fight against the monster, and thanks to deus ex machina (using ice), they manage to defeat the irony of fate, which is the pink dessert devouring people.

In the end, we get a classic sequel hook because, after all, pink evil never dies. Seriously, just last weekend, I saw a heavily powdered, completely pink blob-candy that passionately devoured the face of its victim – okay, it was just a party kiss, but still, shivers went down my spine. Meanwhile, in the movie, the local priest keeps a bit of plasma in a stylish jar from Martha Stewart and during sermons scares the faithful with the impending Armageddon. The clergyman rambles about a sign from God, biblical prophecies, and other hallelujah moments. I’m not a biblical scholar, but I don’t recall any part of the Book of Revelation referring to a pink contraption devouring unbelievers – taking into account that the forty-percent altar wine (and the host from dried psilocybin mushrooms) with which the preacher is intoxicating himself may have a strong influence on the interpretation of the Gospels.

I’ll say this, The Blob is worth watching for its imaginative effects of gelatinous horror (absolute top of practical special effects and makeup), humor, and just to get acquainted with Frank Darabont’s earlier projects. Not a rarity, especially when comparing this film with the works of Carpenter and Cronenberg, but it’s still a very tasty piece of cinema. Let’s say that while on my personal podium, The Fly and The Thing are battling for the first place, the pink sludge is comfortably crawling on the lowest step.