"It's not about the movies"
"Plan
9 from outer space" (1959), directed by Ed Wood Jr.
When
the call came through from my dear friend, Criswell, I felt my excitement level
quickly mounting. He invited me to
the World Premier of his latest film, “Plan 9 From Outer Space”.
Needless to say, I, along with everyone else, was eagerly awaiting the
latest epic from avant gard director, Ed Wood Jr.
I had developed a school girl crush on Mr. Wood’s singular cinematic
touch when I discovered his first film, “Glen or Glenda”, a poignantly
existential exploration of the true nature of identity, on the lower third of a
drive-in triple feature in Plano, Texas. The
crush deepened into adoration with the viewing of his haunting love poem,
“Bride of the Monster”.
Now,
the whole city was abuzz with anticipation of, what many consider to be his
definitive homage to film-noir producer Val Lewton. Lewton, of course, is known for his creative use of shadow
and lighting to build and sustain moods of suspense and terror.
Wood had proven himself adept at building upon the techniques perfected
by Lewton, and indeed, taking them in directions not even conceived of by the
famous director.
Another
signature technique pioneered by Wood was the use of, as director Orson Welles
called it, “incongruous symbolism”. In
“Bride of the Monster”, Wood playfully teases his audience with the
seemingly inappropriate use of everyday objects.
In the director’s skilled hands, familiar objects magically transfigure
into devices of diabolical manipulation. This
ground-breaking technique is most evident in the infamous “laboratory scene”
where the mad scientist, Dr. Eric Varnoff, ably played by Bela Lugosi, (who
appears to be at the top of his form), threatens the heroine with what would
logically be viewed as a simple photo enlarging device.
In Wood’s carefully constructed universe, the enlarger becomes the
means to imbue the strength of a giant into the poor hapless victim, all to
further Lugosi’s goal of building a race of supermen, a thinly disguised
debasement of Hitler’s “master plan”.
The only difference is that Hitler attempted to carry out his nefarious
plan through carefully orchestrated genetic manipulation and the horrendous use
of genocide, while Lugosi’s much more literal plan involved the use of the
photo enlarger to “enlarge” his victims.
The
use of this technique is also evident in the final moments of the film.
Varnoff receives his ultimate moral retribution at the hands of a rubber
octopus. The obviously lifeless
prop is loosely wrapped around Lugosi. As
he thrashes around, pulling the tentacles of the creature around him in a vain
attempt to simulate a life or death struggle, the image on the screen takes on
an almost otherworldly tint. The
audience, through Wood’s deft manipulation, is viewing a morality play of a
much more universal nature. Lugosi’s
struggle in the limp arms of the octopus symbolizes humanity’s ongoing
struggle against the imaginary demons of our own creation.
Birthed and carefully nurtured in our subconscious, we then proceed to
wage a war of control over them, losing sight of the ultimate truth that the
monsters have no life of their own outside the confines of the theater of the
mind.
The
final scene in the movie shows the detonation of an atomic bomb.
As the audience watches the gently rising plume of radioactive smoke,
Wood is saying that ultimately, there is no victory in this battle.
The struggle must inevitably end in self-destruction.
A dark message indeed.
The
night of the premier arrived. After
an introduction of the cast by Wood himself, a hush fell over the audience as
the lights dimmed and the first flickering images of the opus were cast on the
screen.
Ninety minutes later, a collective gasp signaled the end of the film and the beginning of a legend. We all knew that we were in the presence of greatness. The shared experience of viewing this masterpiece had indelibly united us with the symbiosis of art and genius we had just witnessed.
Wood
had truly outdone himself.
From
the opening scenes poignantly telling the story of a bereaved old man, who
ironically is reunited with his dead wife in an unholy union brought about by
the ninth plan implemented by an invading alien force, to the final breathtaking
doomed escape by the aliens, Wood’s deft touch is everywhere.
The
surreal multi-use of props in variously changing roles creates the unreal world
inhabited by Wood’s “poor wretched creatures”.
The wall that forms the backdrop of the airplane cockpit also serves as
the side of the alien ship. The
patio chairs do double duty as bedroom furniture.
The tiny scale of the cemetery set continually fosters the sense of déjà
vu that the director works so hard to achieve.
By constantly testing the boundaries between art and artifice, the real
and the fake, the director keeps his audience off balance, vainly looking for
some semblance of historically perceived reality to anchor their emotions.
Wisely, Wood refuses to succumb to this convention and paints a
masterpiece of bizarre events coupled with incomprehensible emotional reactions.
But,
as lush and exciting as this all sounds, it merely serves as a backdrop for the
heart of the film, Wood’s presentiment rant on the horror of the
military-industrial complex. The
sublime expository scene inside the spacecraft during the third act deftly
outlines not only the plot points but the passion of the writer/director also.
In a moving speech, it is revealed that the aliens’ purpose in taking
over Earth does not lie in desire for domination, but in a last minute attempt
to avert a universe-wide catastrophe.
Eros,
the leader, confronts a group of skeptical earthlings with the true nature of
his plan. The scientific minds of
Earth are on a treacherous course of weapons discovery that will eventually lead
to a bomb that could explode the whole universe, the “Solaranite Bomb”.
Colonel
Edwards: Why is it so important that you want to
contact the governments of our earth?
Eros:
Because of death. Because all you of Earth are idiots!
Jeff
Trent: Now you just hold on, Buster.
Eros:
No, you hold on! First was your firecracker, a harmless explosive. Then your
hand grenade: you began to kill your own people, a few at a time. Then the bomb.
Then a larger bomb: many people are killed at one time. Then your scientists
stumbled upon the atom bomb, split the atom. Then the hydrogen bomb, where you
actually explode the air itself. Now you can arrange the total destruction of
the entire universe served by our sun: The only explosion left is the Solaranite.
Colonel Tom Edwards: Why,
there's no such thing! Why, a particle of sunlight can't even be seen or
measured.
Eros:
Can you see or measure an atom? Yet you can explode one! A ray of sunlight is
made up of many atoms.
Jeff
Trent: So what if we do develop this
Solaranite bomb? We'd be even a stronger nation than now.
Eros:
"Stronger." You see? You see? Your stupid minds! Stupid! Stupid!
The
impassioned plea continues with an appeal to intelligence and metaphor.
Colonel
Edwards: You speak of Solaranite. But just what is
it?
Eros: Take a can
of your gasoline. Say this can of gasoline is the sun. Now, you spread a thin
line of it to a ball, representing the earth. Now, the gasoline represents the
sunlight, the sun particles. Here we saturate the ball with the gasoline, the
sunlight. Then we put a flame to the ball. The flame will speedily travel around
the earth, back along the line of gasoline to the can, or the sun itself. It
will explode this source and spread to every place that gasoline, our sunlight,
touches. Explode the sunlight here, gentlemen, you explode the universe. Explode
the sunlight here and a chain reaction will occur direct to the sun itself and
to all the planets that sunlight touches, to every planet in the universe. This
is why you must be stopped. This is why any means must be used to stop you. In a
friendly manner or as (it seems) you want it.
A
fist fight immediately breaks out between the Earthlings and the aliens,
resulting in a riveting and dramatic denoument that I refuse to spoil for you,
my dear readers.
This
movie will stand as the testament of Ed Wood’s life and beliefs.
His humanity, his kindness and his eerily precognitive ability to predict
the future are all on display in this, his magnum opus.
I truly believe that all future cautionary fables will forever pale in
comparison to this masterpiece. I
see this movie being the focal point of special screenings where its growing
legion of fans can gather together in mutual appreciation of Ed Wood’s legacy. My fervent prayer is that technology someday advances to the
point were every American can own this picture so that it can be viewed over and
over again with like-minded friends and relatives, basking in the respect it so
richly deserves.