Synopsis: Two teenagers are necking in a car
outside of Ludlow, Illinois, when the girl sees something coming towards them. She
screams…. A passing patrol car sees a wrecked car, but there is no sign of any
people. A wallet found at the site indicates that the car may have belonged to a resident
of Ludlow. One of the policemen goes to check out the address, while the other calls for
assistance. The police officer sent to Ludlow reports in a panic: the town has been
destroyed, its population has vanished…. Reporter Audrey Aimes (Peggie Castle) is on
her way to cover a story when she is stopped at a roadblock manned by the Illinois
National Guard. Unable to get any information out of the soldiers, Audrey turns into a
side road, and finds a spot that gives her a view of Ludlow. What she sees horrifies her.
She takes a photograph, only to have her camera confiscated by a Guardsman. Audrey drives
into the town of Paxton, where she speaks to Captain Barton (James Seay). Recognising
Audrey from her coverage of the Korean conflict, Barton allows her in on the investigation
of Ludlow, on the proviso that she does not release her story without clearance. Barton
and Audrey listen as Colonel Sturgeon (Thomas Browne Henry) interrogates witnesses,
establishing the time of the disaster. Refused permission to enter Ludlow, Audrey phones
her editor, Norman Taggart (Paul Grant), asking him to check on a plane that flew over
Ludlow the night before, and also whether there are any atomic instillations in the area.
She then goes to reclaim her camera. Taggart calls back. The plane was a commercial
flight, and the only people working with radioactivity are with the Department of
Agriculture. Audrey drives to the Illinois Experimental Station, where she meets
entomologist Ed Wainwright (Peter Graves) and his colleague Frank Johnson (Than Wyenn), a
botanist, who are producing huge food crops through stimulation with radioisotopes. Frank
is a deaf-mute after an accident with the material. Ed assures Audrey that radiation
couldn’t have caused the disaster in Ludlow. Back in Paxton, Audrey persuades
Sturgeon to let Barton take her through Ludlow, where the two gaze in horror at the
devastation. Barton mentions a warehouse that was destroyed under similar circumstances
some months earlier. Audrey goes back to the research station, and asks Ed to take her to
see the warehouse, as his scientific perspective might uncover a clue missed by the
sheriff. Both Ed and Frank go with her. At the site, Ed explains that it was a storage
facility for surplus wheat, and observes that it looks like it was pushed over from the
inside. Frank points out that the ground is completely barren, the grass eaten down to the
roots. While Audrey and Ed go back to the car for Audrey’s camera, a strange noise
fills the air. Suddenly, a giant locust looms up, and bears down upon the unfortunate
Frank….
Comments: This Roundtable gives me the opportunity
of rectifying a shocking site omission: the non-appearance to date of Bert I. Gordon,
B-movies’ Mr BIG. Many a creature was embiggened and/or de-bigulated over the course
of Bert’s glorious career – people, spiders, ants, rats; even, perhaps most
memorably of all, a duck; and in Beginning Of The End it’s locusts (aka
grasshoppers), which are realised, if that’s not too strong a word, via the magic of
back projection, combined with some less-than-totally-convincing model work. (The best
that we can say for these "effects" is that they’re better than those on
display in The Amazing Colossal Man: never at any stage do the locusts go
transparent.) Not one to let either shame or the concept of truth in advertising stand in
his way, Bert then went ahead and advertised the film as "The screen's first
full-length science-fiction thriller with real live creatures!" – blithely
ignoring the existence of Tarantula, the contemporaneous Incredible Shrinking
Man - and even his own King Dinosaur; and ignoring, too, the fact that the use
of the word "thriller" in this capacity was rather, shall we say, generous.
(Not content with that, Bert also advertised Beginning Of The End as being shot in
"new HORRORSCOPE!" – which must be movie-speak for "really
crappy superimposition".) Still, perhaps we should be prepared to cut Mr BIG some
slack here, seeing what he went through to get his epic onto the screen. Not only did Bert
suffer the embarrassment of having to give each of his little arthropod stars a sex test
before he was allowed to import them from Texas to California, by the end of the shoot,
they’d turned cannibal and started devouring one another (which is why there are
fewer and fewer of them onscreen as the film progresses). Frankly, Beginning Of The End
is one of those films where the behind-the-camera antics are more entertaining than the
end product itself. Although it’s only 76 minutes long, the film contains way too
much stock footage (most of which is used over and over and over again - there’s a
certain stretch of road in this film that you will never forget….), and not
nearly enough giant locust action or goofy fifties science. Still, as I hope you’ll
gather courtesy of the following review, it’s not without a certain charm….
We open with--- Anyone? Anyone? Well, since you can’t guess,
I’ll tell you: a couple of teenagers necking in a car. Yes, really! (Here’s
challenge for you: what was the earliest film to open with this classic B-movie gambit?
[Of course, we all know the last one to do it….heh, heh, heh….]) As the
boy nuzzles the girl’s neck, she opens her eyes, then screams…. Cue
opening credits. We are immediately reassured about the ultimate fate of mankind, as two
of the three top-billed people are Peter Graves and Morris Ankrum. (My bold prediction?
Pete will play a scientist – sorry, I mean A Scientist – and Morrie will play a
worried general.) We then cut to A Certain Stretch Of Road, and as we sit there, twiddling
our thumbs and waiting for something to happen, we are given ample opportunity to admire
the view of the mountain range that lies just to the south of Chicago [*cough*].
Eventually, a police car hoves into view, and as we move in for a close-up, we notice two
cars, a dark one and a light one, travelling in the opposite direction. Although the
drivers of those cars have seen nothing (or at least, not cared enough to stop), the
Champaign County police are more sharp-eyed, and pull up near a wrecked car. At the scene
they find a wallet, the driver’s license inside indicating that the owner lived in
nearby Ludlow. One of the officers is dispatched to the town, from where he soon sends in
a panicked call: "Ludlow’s destroyed! Everyone’s gone! Send help! Lotsa
help!"
We cut to the next day, and meet crusading reporter Audrey Aimes, cruising
along A Certain Stretch Of Road in her convertible, yet not getting a single hair out of
place. (Ah, the fifties, when they really knew how to make hairspray!) As she drives
along, Albert Glasser’s emphatic score pounds on the soundtrack, trying in vain to
distract us from the passing of a strangely familiar dark car, and its loyal companion, a
strangely familiar light car. In keeping with the film’s gallant, if futile, attempt
to convince us that, despite that pesky mountain range, the action really is taking
place in Illinois (Ludlow and Paxton are real towns; I wonder how Fred Freiberger and
Lester Gorn came to pick on them?), Audrey is on her way to the Chanute Air Force Base.
But (dum dum duuum….) she never gets there. A roadblock stops her just short
of Ludlow. Curious and suspicious, Audrey tries to find out what’s going on, first
turning her womanly charms on the stoic National Guardsman barring her way, then producing
her press pass (uh, yes – in that order); but all to no avail. Not so easily
thwarted, Audrey finds a side road that offers a view of Ludlow, and is shocked at what
she sees. (We, the viewers, are asked to take it on trust that what she sees is
"shocking": I guess Mr BIG couldn’t find any distance stock
footage.) She quickly snaps a photo, only to have her camera confiscated by a passing
soldier. Demanding to know who’s in charge, Audrey learns that the National Guard
headquarters is in Paxton. There, she meets Captain James Barton, who reacts instantly to
her name. "The Audrey Aimes?" (Ah, the fifties, when all reporters, like
all scientists, were "world famous"!) We further learn that Audrey "covered
Korea" (which I don’t think was a fat joke), and that she wrote a book about her
experiences which Barton "liked very much". Her pro-military credentials thus
established, Audrey is invited into the Ludlow investigation, on the condition that she
suppresses the story until given permission by the army to publish it, a deal Audrey
accepts without hesitation. (Ah, the fifties….) Barton then introduces her to Colonel
Sturgeon (Thomas Browne Henry – yes!!), who also reacts to her name ("Audrey
Aimes?") before interrogating two possible witnesses. The first is an old geezer more
concerned about what time he got to bed the previous night than about the gruesome demise
of his daughter and son-in-law. The second is your traditional small-town spinster, who
turns out to be the local telephone operator, and who is able to provide a timeframe for
the disaster. (The IMDb insists that Edna is played by Eilene Janssen, who the previous
year played "Bridey at 15" in The Search For Bridey Murphy. Either the
experience of collaborating with Bert I. Gordon aged Ms Johnson rather considerably, or
the IMDb has made one of its, uh, rare errors….) Sturgeon then goes off to see
Ludlow for himself, refusing Audrey access to the town.
Audrey, however, has pricked up her ears at hearing that a plane flew over
Ludlow just before disaster struck; and she phones her editor to ask him to check up on
it. Two interesting things here: Audrey has a car-phone! – and while
that’s pretty darn cool, it highlights the fact that she must have driven all the way
from New York to Illinois to cover her story. Boy, you’d think for such a
world-famous reporter, her bosses would spring for a plane ticket…!? Anyway, after
breaking the glad tidings that they can’t print her story anyway, Audrey asks about
the plane, and whether there are any atomic instillations in the vicinity of
Ludlow. (Ah, the fifties….) She then goes to retrieve her camera. (In light of later
events, we wonder why she bothered.) Her editor rings her back to nix both of her ideas:
the plane was a commercial flight, and there are no atomic instillations nearby.
("Secret or otherwise," he assures her, leaving us to ponder this somewhat
comical use of the word "secret".) In fact, the only people around dealing with
radioactivity are with the Department of Agriculture. And so Audrey sets off to do a bit
more snooping.
At the Illinois Experimental Station, Audrey enters a shed, its door
conveniently ajar. (Of course. Why would you want to keep your experimental plants in an
enclosed environment, when you could have them out in the open, exposed to the sunlight,
the fresh air, the local insect population…?) Inside, she finds herself confronted by
a plot of enormous tomato plants, and some equally massive strawberries. This remarkable
vegetation is being tended by a man who takes no notice at all of Audrey’s presence,
despite her repeated "Excuse me!"-s and throat clearings. (Frank must have worse
peripheral vision than I do!) Confused, Audrey turns away – only to bump into
a second man, and give a little shriek - as anyone would, suddenly finding themselves eye
to eye with Peter Graves.
The newcomer introduces himself as Ed Wainwright, head of the project.
Audrey identifies herself, adding that she spoke to his colleague, but that he didn’t
seem to hear her. "Frank’s a deaf-mute," Ed explains, adding ominously that
working with radiation can be – "dangerous…." And while this
may be so, tampering in God’s domain clearly does bring with it certain advantages.
Whereas in earlier days, a Mad Scientist in need of an assistant would have to go out and find
a deaf-mute, from the fifties onwards, thanks to "radiation", you could just
make one of your own! What a time saver! (By the way, we notice that for all the
insistence on the dangers of "radiation", the experimental facility is left wide
open at all times, and Ed and Frank haven't an inch of protective gear between them,
beyond Frank’s rubber gloves. [This barely even ranks as shutting the stable door.
More like giving it a gentle push….]) Ed then excuses himself to go and help Frank,
who is picking snails off the strawberry plants. Ed chuckles over this, describing it
facetiously as "just a slight catastrophe", and prompting Audrey to inquire
(with a touch more asperity than she might have employed had she realised, as the audience
already has, that she’s Met Her Soulmate) whether they have these catastrophes often?
"All the time!" replies Ed, invincibly cheerful, and goes on to recite all the
various creepy-crawlies that have invaded his project since its inception: snails,
caterpillars, beetles. "And grasshoppers – by the drove!" Ed then
observes thoughtfully that "it’s hard to keep these little things from getting
in". Hey, Ed? Just a suggestion, bro’ – why don’t you put up some
freaking netting!? Or at least shut the door!!
Audrey then tries to get things back on topic, telling Ed her theory about
Ludlow, that "radiation" was somehow involved. "I don’t think
so," objects Ed, swinging open the door of his – unlocked – safe,
and displaying his supply of radioisotopes. "Radioisotopes aren’t
explosive!" That taken care of, Audrey asks about Ed’s work, and learns that he
and Frank are trying to make the plants’ photosynthesis (which Ed stops to describe
inaccurately as their "growing process") continue night and day, with the
isotopes functioning as "an artificial sun". In fact, the plants would grow much
larger if "we didn’t limit the stimulation!" And the word
"stimulation" having entered the conversation, Ed starts putting the moves on
Audrey. But alas, she has only Ludlow on her mind, and excuses herself. Ed watches her go
with a big dopey grin on his face. And Frank goes back to picking snails off the
strawberries.
You know, Mr BIG really dropped the ball with this one. Whatever happened
to the obvious sequel to Beginning Of The End? – The Mollusc That
Slimed Chicago….
(Hey, now there’s a great name for a website! "Slime
Chicago"!)
We then get a brief shot of Audrey on A Certain Stretch Of Road; too
brief, indeed, for our Familiar Cars to make an appearance. Back in Paxton, she bails up
Colonel Sturgeon and talks him into allowing her into Ludlow. "I hope you’ve got
a strong stomach!" he growls at her. Nothing daunted, she heads off with Barton, and
soon we see shots of her snapping away with her camera superimposed over stock footage of
– tornado damage? "I’ve had enough," she tells Barton sombrely, and
they drive away, Barton with his arm resting cosily behind her shoulders along the back of
the front seat. Audrey takes no notice, as the devastation she has witnessed has caused
her to become philosophical.
"Some people use calendars to tell age. I could use ruins to count
mine," she pronounces, as we watch the Familiar Dark Car trundle by. We learn that
she was twenty-five when she went into Seoul after it was bombed (yup, there goes Familiar
Light Car!), and twenty when she went into Berlin and Cologne. Not quite getting the
thrust of her discourse, Barton says cheerfully, "You must be getting used to it,
huh?" Amazingly, Audrey goes to the trouble of replying, "Captain, some things
you never get used to!"
Back in Paxton, Barton also starts making moves, inviting Audrey for a
drink. She doesn’t even hear this overture, being too fixated upon Ludlow. Barton
shrugs, accepting his dismissal, and tells her about a warehouse that, a couple of months
back, was similarly destroyed.
(At this point in the film, it looks as if we’re headed for a
romantic triangle, with Audrey caught between Science and The Military; but it never pans
out. Pity, because frankly, I like Barton a lot better than Ed. Although upon reflection,
it never would have worked out between him and Audrey: she never lets him drive her
car! But she lets Ed drive her car! [Ah, the fifties….])
Audrey heads back to the Experimental Station. Ed sees her, and that big
dopey grin springs back into existence. (Aw, jeez, Pete! Knock it off, will ya?
You’re creeping me out!). Audrey announces that she wants Ed to do her a favour: to
come out to the destroyed warehouse and give her his opinion. Ed protests, saying he has
too much work to do; and besides, "the authorities" investigated the incident.
Audrey then plays her trump card: Ed is a scientist, so he might see something that
the sheriff missed. This line works like a charm, as always: Ed’s big dopey grin gets
even bigger and dopier (yecchh!). At this point, Frank the expert lip-reader butts in with
a burst of sign language, eliciting hearty laughs from his sensitive companions. Ed
translates, and to our surprise, given events soon to transpire, Frank wasn’t
offering to show them a photo of his girl, nor announcing that he’s only got one day
left until retirement. Rather, Frank thinks Audrey’s got a good idea, and he wants to
come along too. (Oh, Frank, Frank….) The three set out, and as they cruise along A
Certain Stretch Of Road, we get one of those charming B-movie "potted history"
scenes. Audrey was "born inquisitive", but inherited her "knack with a
camera" from her father. Ed as a child was always "tinkering with anything
electrical" and was a "radar officer" in WWII (two occupations that would,
naturally, lead to entomology). We then learn that, like the entire Illinois National
Guard, Ed is familiar with Audrey’s career, observing that her reports made him
realise "what sheltered lives we scientists lead". "Sheltered?"
queries Audrey – who really does have a large dose of the killjoy in her. "Look
what happened to Frank!" Which, not surprisingly, ends that conversation.
The "warehouse" turns out to be a line of grain silos (more
stock footage), used for storing surplus wheat. Sure enough, Ed’s "scientific
perspective" allows him to see that the walls of the silos were pushed out from the
inside; yet there was no explosion. Frank points out some barren ground, and Ed explains
to Audrey that the grass has been cropped right to the roots. Audrey decides to take some
shots, and she and Ed go back to her car. "Here, let me help you!" says Ed
– because, you know, such a fragile little woman couldn’t possibly lift a
great big camera by herself; even if that is her job. At that moment, a weird
screeching sound fills the air. As Ed and Audrey give each other puzzled looks, we cut
back to Frank, who truly has no peripheral vision whatsoever, and doesn’t
notice as a giant locust looms up beside him – or at least, not until (dum, dum,
duuum….) – it’s too late.
Now, there was, of course, some slight difficulty involved in getting the
characters in this film to interact with the locusts directly; and so Frank’s death
is depicted via a close-up of his terrified face, his frantically waving hands, and his
silent scream…. (With apologies to Oscar Wilde, anyone who can watch Frank’s
death scene without laughing must have a heart of stone.) If this film had been made a few
years later, there would undoubtedly have been a cry at this point of "Let’s get
the hell out of here!" Which Ed and Audrey do, without the accompanying vocals; while
we, the audience, take note of two things: (1) Ed is now driving Audrey’s car (it
must be serious); and (2) Miss Crack Reporter, Miss War Zone, Miss
I-Went-Through-Seoul-And-Berlin-And-Cologne, is running away without bothering to take
a photograph!!
(And by the way – we get an annoying change of direction here. Audrey
has been set up as a strong, resourceful, independent woman, but from here on in –
from the moment Ed seizes the wheel of her car, in fact [perhaps it’s supposed to be
symbolic] – she degenerates into a helpless clinging female, good for nothing but
sinking into Ed’s manly arms. The inference seems to be not just that being helpless
and clingy is the way to catch a man, but that the natural consequence of falling for a
man is to become helpless and clingy. Yecchh!)
Back at National Guard HQ, Sturgeon is finding out that
"radiation" was not responsible for what happened in Ludlow. In the middle of
this process, Ed bursts in, announcing that he knows what was: "Locusts! Giant
locusts!" Naturally, Sturgeon laughs off the suggestion. Ed then draws an analogy
with his giant plants, and Sturgeon demands to know if he’s saying he bred the
locusts? "In a sense, I did, yes," admits Ed, having finally joined the mental
dots between the giant locusts, the grain silos, his plants, and the radioactive plant
food he and Frank just left lying around…. Sturgeon is still sceptical, provoking a
burst of pseudo-science from Ed, in which he babbles about the plant food accelerating the
locusts’ cell division – "That is, they started to grow abnormally
fast!" (You know, Ed would seem far more competent if he’d stop taking time out
to mis-explain everything he says!) Sturgeon chuckles (nice that he can keep his sense of
humour in the face of mass fatalities), and objects that even if he believed Ed’s
story, he’d find it hard to believe the creatures would attack people. Well, yeah!
Who ever heard of giant locusts attacking people? It’s patently absurd!
Eventually, however, worn down by Ed and Audrey’s harangues, Sturgeon (who continues
to chuckle, even after hearing of Frank’s death) agrees to take a detail out to
search for – whatever.
So a small troop of guardsmen is sent out into the woods, and much jocular
soldier talk ensues. ("I ate ‘em once, down Mexico!" "Better watch
your step, they’re liable to return the favour!") This drags on for a while, and
then – that high-pitched screech again! Despite this aural warning, one guardsman
proves that he’s got worse peripheral vision than either Frank or me, by
failing to see the truck-sized locust standing right beside him! And then the
locusts attack! And we see a great deal of hilariously unconvincing superimposition! The
soldiers fall back, firing all the time – or as well as they can, considering their
weapons keep jamming. One poor SOB has his gun jam three times running – and
just as he’s crossing the same stretch of ground each time, too! What are the odds?
There are some casualties (more flailing and screaming into the camera), and then the
survivors jump back into the truck, fleeing the scene. We get one of my favourite shots
here, as a locust charges up the road after the truck. Kind of.
Back at HQ, the chastened Sturgeon rallies his forces. Ed intervenes,
insisting that Sturgeon doesn’t have enough men or firepower. The locusts’
screech has convinced him that there are "countless numbers" of them. The
regular army must be called in. Sturgeon scoffs at the notion of needing the army
to deal with some "oversized grasshoppers", and goes about his business. In
despair, Ed turns to Audrey (who’s just hanging around, doing nothing), and she
assures him that it’s not his fault, that he’s done everything he could. Ed then
delivers his most deathless line of dialogue: "In a way," he confesses, "I
feel responsible." Oh, in a way, Ed? What way would that be? The way
you and Frank left your lab open, and your radioactive plant food lying around? Yeesh!
Grimly, Ed voices his opinion that what they are seeing might be the
beginning of the total annihilation of mankind – "The Beginning Of The
End", no less. He decides to go over Sturgeon’s head, and appeal to Washington.
Audrey tags along (naturally), and we see Ed delivering a lecture to a group of army guys,
including General Hanson, played by Morris Ankrum. (About freaking time!! Actually, glad
as I am to see him, I have to say that this isn’t one of Morrie’s better
performances. While ordinarily we can rely on him for enthusiastic table-thumping and
cries of, "By---!", his main contribution here is an attitude of overwhelming
boredom. [And I still say he owned his own uniform.]) Ed shows some footage of a
plague of locusts ("More commonly known as the grasshopper!"), which we hear was
filmed in Australia. Of course. Has there ever been footage of a natural disaster in a
film that wasn’t? (Welcome to sunny Oz, Natural Disaster Capital of the
world!) Ed impresses his audience, but not enough. General Short, oozing smugness, tells
Ed he has all the faith in the world in the "full strength of the Illinois National
Guard". And we all know what that means. Sure enough, the phone rings, and we
learn that the locusts have "broken through the line", with thousands of
casualties. Short’s reaction is swift and to the point: he puts Morrie in charge.
Yes!!
On the plane back to Illinois, Morrie gets a call informing him that they
can’t land in Paxton, because Paxton’s no longer there; so he sets up HQ in
Chicago. Soon we learn that more towns have been destroyed, among them Peoria (thus
relieving non-mainstream film-makers of the need to worry about whether their films will
play there or not). Meanwhile, Ed is at his "emergency lab", where he is
bringing to bear upon the problem the full force of his Conical Flasks Filled With
Mysterious Coloured Fluids. Ed has already ordered a massive insecticide strike (ah, the
fifties, when no-one worried about such things!), but learns that it has had no effect
whatsoever on the locusts. Surprise! Ed picks up a local newspaper that bears the huge
headline "CHICAGO NEXT?", the story carrying Audrey’s byline. (Nice to see
that, even in times of crisis, the residents of Chicago can take a few moments to worry
about "proposed taxation legislation" and the "latest sports
results".) Then Audrey herself wanders in. Ed is aghast, knowing that she was ordered
back to New York because of the danger. "I wanted to stay!" she says breathily,
giving him A Significant Look. Then begins a ridiculously extended section of stock
footage, with soldiers marching, soldiers running, tanks rolling, guns blasting, and
endless, endless mortar-fire. Hilariously, we then cut to a soldier on the phone, who
reports, "No, no sign of the locusts yet!" Another cut shows us the face (or at
least, the back of the head) of Middle America, as a typical Ma and Pa watch an emergency
broadcast, where they learn that the locusts’ high-pitched screech is the sign that
they’re about to attack. Cut to Ed and his Conical Flasks. An ominous sound is
heard…. Cut back to the soldiers, and yup, here come the locusts! Gee, I hope the
army guys haven’t used up all their shells! More stock footage, more guns jamming
– and a few too many genuinely injured locusts. ("No locusts were
harmed---", hey? Yeah, right.) And I guess they did use up all their
shells, because they certainly don’t fire any here. As the soldiers are cut down (in
one genuinely good moment, an abrupt jump cut makes it look like a locust is pouncing
on a victim), we get the traditional "despairing phonecall to HQ", and the still
more traditional close-up of Morris Ankrum’s face as one of his men screams in terror
down the line…. (At least this time, Morrie doesn’t cut the poor sucker off!)
Next thing we know, the locusts are invading the south side of Chicago.
(Hey! They can say "hi" to Leroy Brown for me!) While the PA system urges people
to "Stay calm! Take shelter in basements!" we watch scenes of panicking people,
and a mass evacuation by car (although oddly, there seem to be as many cars going into
the city as there are leaving it). Just to add insult to injury, we also see the
"picnic in the park" footage from The Day The Earth Stood Still, with
giant locusts superimposed over it! One of the film’s comic highlights follows, as
the camera discovers the one person in Chicago who followed The Authorities’ advice
and didn’t panic. On the contrary, this Sweet Young Thing has just climbed out of a
relaxing hot bath, and – while wrapped in a towel – brushes out her hair without
a care in the world. This idyll is rudely interrupted when a giant locust appears outside
her window and, uh, "King Kong"-s her.
Later, back at HQ, Morrie calls Ed and Audrey (still just hanging around)
into his office. The locusts, we learn, are huddled in alleys, reacting to the cold of the
night; but Ed dashes Morrie’s faint hopes, telling him they’re still dangerous.
Morrie then breaks the news that now that Chicago has been evacuated (except for those few
obedient souls huddling in their basements, we assume), Washington has given him
permission to drop an atom bomb on the city. The other two are horrified, with Audrey
protesting that this will cause "a billion dollars’ worth of damage!" (Ah,
the fifties….) Morrie is insistent, telling them that if they don’t come up with
an alternative…. Audrey then makes her sole contribution to the proceedings; and
naturally, it’s one of those off-the-cuff remarks that induces a Lightbulb Moment©
in her man, rather than anything solid on her own behalf. Ed begins to plot a way of using
sound to lure the locusts into the lake, demanding an oscilloscope (of course),
amplifiers, radio equipment, and a boat – "A fast boat!" (Gee, lucky
Ed prepared for his career as an entomologist by "tinkering" with electronics,
hey?) Morrie promises him "anything he needs", but warns him again of the
deadline.
Among the things that Ed needs, it turns out, is "a live giant
grasshopper!". As an assigned detail searches for one (searches? I thought they were
overrun by them!), Ed and one Major Everett wander down a dark alley. They hear a
noise….and sure enough (boding ill for those who followed official instructions), a
locust emerges from a nearby basement. The two men drag on their gas masks, throw a gas
bomb at the creature, then move in to "capture" it. There is a discreet fade to
black at this point, and the next thing we know, the locust is behind the bars of a
makeshift "cage" in Ed’s lab. Major Everett is standing rather too close to
it, and Ed warns him of his danger – to which Everett responds by turning his back on
the creature. As if this weren’t enough to cue us in on the Major’s ultimate
fate, he then takes his life in his hands by choosing this of all moments to wax
philosophical. "You know, I’m thirty-seven years old, and for the first time I
realise how much I’ve taken life for granted," he observes cheerfully. Ed,
meanwhile, is busy setting up a polygraph machine that will detect any reaction from the
locust to the signals he bombards it with. Audrey, still hanging around, is given the
onerous task of watching the needles (don’t strain anything, dear). Some time later
(there is a nice touch here, as "passing time" is indicated by piled-up chart
paper, rather than the usual clockface fades), Morrie looks in to see how things are
going, and to make the final arrangements for the dropping of the bomb. He urges Ed to
move to another location. Ed refuses, saying it would waste too much time, but does ask
for one man to replace Audrey (because things couldn’t possibly go on without someone
shouldering the burden of her workload). However, Audrey also refuses to budge. Ed then
pleads for a bit more time – just until the temperature lifts, and the locusts begin
moving – and Morrie gives him until 0616 hours. Morrie also tells him that he’s
arranged for three observation posts throughout the city, and a helicopter, and a getaway
car downstairs, then advises them to leave town no later than thirty minutes before the
drop (yeah, you’d think!). "If you’re successful, contact me at once,"
he instructs them (yeah, you’d think!), and departs.
The next section is rather well done, with rapid cutting between the
polygraph, the clock, the locust, and the deserted streets of Chicago actually building a
little tension. The clock ticks relentlessly towards 6.16 am (okay if Ed and Aud want to
be noble, but what about the poor soldiers?). And what do you know? - just at the very
last moment, success! Unfortunately for Everett, the locust reacts to the stimulating
signal by breaking out of its cage. Ed guns the creature down, but Everett has fulfilled
his manifest destiny. "Cover him up," Ed orders a soldier sombrely, "and
get that thing out of here!" (Tragically, the camera moves away at this point,
so we don’t get to see how exactly the weedy little soldier gets that thing
out of there.) And then everyone stands around looking mournful, until it eventually
occurs to Ed that he might want to, you know, call off the atom bomb drop. Hearing the
glad tidings, Morrie responds nonchalantly, "Good", and calls the pilots, who
are on the way with their deadly cargo. They, clearly, are Morrie’s proteges: they
hear their mission called off without a single reaction one way or the other. And back at
the lab, Audrey sinks into Ed’s manly arms.
But there’s work to be done! Ed gives Audrey another difficult job,
getting her to check the thermometer. Sure enough, it’s beginning to warm up. Ed
hooks up his equipment to the broadcasting system on the roof of his building. Meanwhile,
Morrie is out on the lake, waiting his turn to spring---well, slouch into action. Morrie
wants to start, but Ed warns him that they have to be sure to round up all the locusts. He
starts his signal, and the locusts begin moving. The men at the observation posts report
the success of Ed’s plan, and Ed conveys the news to Morrie. "It’s working,
General! It’s working!" he cries excitedly. "I heard the reports,"
yawns Morrie. The locusts come pouring into the city, even climbing the building in which
Our Heroes are trapped. (And yes, this section of the film does contain the
infamous moment when one of the locusts wanders off the side of the "building"
and onto the "sky". I’m also fond of the shot when a locust walks around
the corner of the building without actually changing angle, if you know what I mean.) Over
at Observation Post Three, the lookout is so intent upon watching the locusts in the
streets below that he somehow fails to notice the one that’s on the roof with him
– leading to yet another "dying screams over the radio" scene. And Audrey
sinks into Ed’s manly arms. As more locusts try to reach the broadcast point, Ed and
his soldier companion are forced to open fire, and we see the same shot of a locust
falling off the "building" about four times running. Finally, the helicopter
lookout reports that all the locusts are in town. Ed gives Audrey yet another demanding
duty: flicking the switch to shut off their signal. Morrie & Co. then take over, and
the sex-crazed locusts charge for Lake Michigan – the outcome being conveyed by shots
of real drowning locusts. Gee, thanks, Bert. And then the film just kind of, well,
stops. We get one shot of Morrie & Co. puttering across the lake, and one of Audrey
sinking into Ed’s manly arms, and that’s it, really. No dramatic outro music,
not even a dramatic closing speech about tampering in God’s domain! What a
lost opportunity! Can’t you just imagine it? – "When you can snatch the
pebble from my hand, Grasshopper, it will be time for you to defeat Peter Graves…!"
Locusts really go for chicks in skimpy clothing.
THRILL to the drama of the amazing "needle watching" scene!
No-one could beat Ed Wainwright at "Statues". No-one.
Rah! I'm a monsta!
Audrey sinks into Ed's manly arms. Yecchh!
Footnote: These images we're taken
from MONSTRULA! (http://www.monstrula.de), a German
site well worth visiting even if you don't speak the language.
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