Movie Review
Behind the cut is my review of Prophecy: the Monster Movie. Usually I make my movie reviews friends only, since they don't have anything to do with the themes of my journal. This is an environmental horror movie, so maybe my general readership might be interested. There are some spoilers, but as this is a b movie, they probably won't interfere with your enjoyment of the movie. I do say how you can tell when the monster is going to attack, though.
In the atomic age, moviemakers convinced us that radiation was going to spawn gargantuan monsters--oversized grasshoppers, ants, even rabbits! The truth, of course, is that radioactive material doesn't create monsters, it merely kills all living things slowly and horribly--a scary prospect, but not one that can be the boogeyman for a 90 minute movie. Then came Prophecy: the Monster Movie (not to be confused with The Prophecy, the Christopher Walken angel thriller series). Inspired as much by Silent Spring as by Jaws, the teratogenic element in this 1979 scare flick is mercury poisoning. These days we know that mercury merely builds up in the fatty tissues of animals, eventually killing them slowly and horribly, but at the time it must have seen as likely a monster-maker as anything.
And so we have, in Maine, (ably played by some west coast forest) a bear mutated by mercury into a partially skinless, drooling and rampaging monster. As in many animal-as-monster movies, the she-bear is motivated by her maternal protective instincts. It seems that a do-gooder (our hero, an MD working for the EPA, go figure) has found her gooey mewling offspring (played by a skinless teddy bear puppet) and needs to bring it to the authorities to prove that the paper mill is polluting the ecosystem. Of course that means being stranded in the woods with a ragtag bunch of bruin-fodder, including the owner of the paper mill (think he makes it out alive?) and some noble Native American eye candy (played by Armand Assante and some chick who winds up in a wet t-shirt). The mother bear must munch her way through the humans, both noble and sinister, to reclaim her mutated baby.
It's not a bad little monster movie, but it sorely needs the Mystery Science Theater treatment. It begins with the obligatorily excruciating character development, where we learn what a great guy our hero is, and that his wife is pregnant (but he doesn't know--and doesn't want to have children!) This being the last moments of the 70's, there is an abundance of social issues--not really addressed, but just crammed into the movie to make it seem relevant. Besides environmental pollution, we have to confront abortion, American Indian affairs, inner city poverty, not to mention our hero's Donald Sutherland afro and Chuck Norris beard. The gore effects are mostly hilarious, if you think a glistening skinless neonatal bear muppet biting a woman's neck is funny--and who doesn't? The monster is equal parts scary and silly, appearing suddenly in order to knock people across the forest, tear the roof off of cabins, and push trucks over. (Here's a hint: when the scary music goes away, and there's just silence for a while, the monster is about to attack.)
As an aficionado of both animal monster movies and environmental despair movies, it was clear that I had to see this, from the moment that I was aware of it. I can't in good conscience recommend it to anyone who doesn't giggle uncontrollably at on-screen decapitations, but if you're one too, you know what to do.
Special bonus information for wirrrn. As this movie is supposed to take place in Maine (the presence of outdoor structures that would be destroyed by the spring weather in Maine, never mind the winter, reveal the location as clearly west coast--California or possibly Oregon) the bear has to be a black bear Ursus americanus, rather than a grizzly or brown bear Ursus arctos. The difference is comparable to the difference between fresh water and salt water crocodiles.
There's a wonderful naturalist joke that describes the difference:
One summer, a fellow from the big city was going on a camping trip into the Rocky Mountains. He got all his gear, made the drive, and was at a local shop just before starting his hike into the wilderness.
He says to the store clerk, 'Say, do you all have bears around here?'
'Yep,' replied the clerk.
'What kind?'
'Well, we've got black bears and grizzly bears.'
The hiker replied, 'OK, I guess I better get some of these bear bells then. That way, when I'm hiking the bears will know I'm coming and I won't startle them.' He gets a couple bells and takes them to the counter to pay.
'By the way, is there any way to tell if there are grizzly bears or black bears around?', he asked.
'Sure,' replies the clerk, ' just check their scat to see what type of bear is around. You can tell the type of bear by what's in its scat.'
'Hmmm, what would I expect to see in the scat?' asked the hiker as he picked up his bells to leave.
'Well, black bear scat's got berries, leaves, some grass. Grizzly bear scat's got bear bells.'
This version of the joke stolen from the boy scouts, of all people.
In the atomic age, moviemakers convinced us that radiation was going to spawn gargantuan monsters--oversized grasshoppers, ants, even rabbits! The truth, of course, is that radioactive material doesn't create monsters, it merely kills all living things slowly and horribly--a scary prospect, but not one that can be the boogeyman for a 90 minute movie. Then came Prophecy: the Monster Movie (not to be confused with The Prophecy, the Christopher Walken angel thriller series). Inspired as much by Silent Spring as by Jaws, the teratogenic element in this 1979 scare flick is mercury poisoning. These days we know that mercury merely builds up in the fatty tissues of animals, eventually killing them slowly and horribly, but at the time it must have seen as likely a monster-maker as anything.
And so we have, in Maine, (ably played by some west coast forest) a bear mutated by mercury into a partially skinless, drooling and rampaging monster. As in many animal-as-monster movies, the she-bear is motivated by her maternal protective instincts. It seems that a do-gooder (our hero, an MD working for the EPA, go figure) has found her gooey mewling offspring (played by a skinless teddy bear puppet) and needs to bring it to the authorities to prove that the paper mill is polluting the ecosystem. Of course that means being stranded in the woods with a ragtag bunch of bruin-fodder, including the owner of the paper mill (think he makes it out alive?) and some noble Native American eye candy (played by Armand Assante and some chick who winds up in a wet t-shirt). The mother bear must munch her way through the humans, both noble and sinister, to reclaim her mutated baby.
It's not a bad little monster movie, but it sorely needs the Mystery Science Theater treatment. It begins with the obligatorily excruciating character development, where we learn what a great guy our hero is, and that his wife is pregnant (but he doesn't know--and doesn't want to have children!) This being the last moments of the 70's, there is an abundance of social issues--not really addressed, but just crammed into the movie to make it seem relevant. Besides environmental pollution, we have to confront abortion, American Indian affairs, inner city poverty, not to mention our hero's Donald Sutherland afro and Chuck Norris beard. The gore effects are mostly hilarious, if you think a glistening skinless neonatal bear muppet biting a woman's neck is funny--and who doesn't? The monster is equal parts scary and silly, appearing suddenly in order to knock people across the forest, tear the roof off of cabins, and push trucks over. (Here's a hint: when the scary music goes away, and there's just silence for a while, the monster is about to attack.)
As an aficionado of both animal monster movies and environmental despair movies, it was clear that I had to see this, from the moment that I was aware of it. I can't in good conscience recommend it to anyone who doesn't giggle uncontrollably at on-screen decapitations, but if you're one too, you know what to do.
Special bonus information for wirrrn. As this movie is supposed to take place in Maine (the presence of outdoor structures that would be destroyed by the spring weather in Maine, never mind the winter, reveal the location as clearly west coast--California or possibly Oregon) the bear has to be a black bear Ursus americanus, rather than a grizzly or brown bear Ursus arctos. The difference is comparable to the difference between fresh water and salt water crocodiles.
There's a wonderful naturalist joke that describes the difference:
One summer, a fellow from the big city was going on a camping trip into the Rocky Mountains. He got all his gear, made the drive, and was at a local shop just before starting his hike into the wilderness.
He says to the store clerk, 'Say, do you all have bears around here?'
'Yep,' replied the clerk.
'What kind?'
'Well, we've got black bears and grizzly bears.'
The hiker replied, 'OK, I guess I better get some of these bear bells then. That way, when I'm hiking the bears will know I'm coming and I won't startle them.' He gets a couple bells and takes them to the counter to pay.
'By the way, is there any way to tell if there are grizzly bears or black bears around?', he asked.
'Sure,' replies the clerk, ' just check their scat to see what type of bear is around. You can tell the type of bear by what's in its scat.'
'Hmmm, what would I expect to see in the scat?' asked the hiker as he picked up his bells to leave.
'Well, black bear scat's got berries, leaves, some grass. Grizzly bear scat's got bear bells.'
This version of the joke stolen from the boy scouts, of all people.