In the mid-1950's, a new genre became popular in Hollywood.
Known by cinema historians as "teen exploitation," this genre tended to focus on delinquent youths,
usually in poor suburbs, slums, or small towns, and it was made popular by films like Blackboard
Jungle and Rebel Without a Cause. This inspired film distributer Jack Harris to produce a movie
of his own that would combine teen exploitation with the red-hot craze of science-fiction. This
would prove to be so potent a combination that even without the support of Hollywood or much in
the way of money, Harris could create a cultural phenomenon that would stand the test of time.
It began as a night like any other in this small Pennsylvania town. Kids were going to midnight
movies, steeling away to an isolated hill for romance, and causing general mischief, much to
the consternation of the local police force. But then a meteorite crashes just outside of town,
releasing a strange substance that can attach to the human body, consume it, and grow ever larger.
The teens of the town try to alert the sleeping adults, but can they convince them this isn't
just another prank gone too far, or will the town ultimately be devored by the Blob?
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Every few years, if you look hard enough, you'll find mysterious reports of something commonly
refered to as "star jelly," an often clear or whitish-colored gelatinous goop that appears
in grassland areas around the world. Star jelly, which I have to tell you is called caca de luna in
Mexico, is believed by many to be extraterrestrial in origin, that it rains down from the sky in
conjunction with meteor showers. While there are much more likely explanations--star
jelly is probably the name given to a wide range of bizarre biological phenomenon like
slime molds and cyanobacteria--star jelly never ceases to engage the imagination.
Such was the case in 1950, when four Philadelphia police officers reported
encountering a quivering disc-shaped mass of the stuff that measured roughly six feet in diameter.
When they prodded it, it broke apart and dissolved into the ground.
This story served as the inspiration for a concept by Irving H. Millgate called The Molten Meteor, in
which a similar mass from the heavens terrorizes a small Pennsylvania town. Millgate gave the
story to his friend Jack Harris, who he knew was interested in making a science-fiction movie,
and Harris passed it along to Theodore Simonson and Kay Linaker to turn it into a screenplay.
Harris knew he wanted to produce the film locally, and so he used a company known at
the time for making religious films, Valley Forge Film Studios, where the director Irvin
"Shorty" Yeaworth was already well-versed in the process of making movies.
The entire crew was filled with what were technically considered amateurs,
and though Valley Forge had never put together a film as ambitious as The Molten Meteor,
they proved more than up for the task. Funding the project, however, was much more challenging.
Harris did shop the script around to the major Hollywood studios in
search of a distribution deal, but nobody was interested at the time, so instead,
he put a second mortgage on his own home, borrowed from his family's life insurance policies,
and secured an agreement with Deluxe, specifically its New York labs, to secure two-thirds of the
projected one hundred thousand dollar budget. The other third was put up by Yeaworth.
Later, when the film was nearly complete, the special effects ran over-budget by as much as
thirty thousand dollars, but by then, Paramount Pictures finally expressed
interest in distributing the movie and bought it for three-hundred thousand
dollars. While this was a significant sum of money for folks in rural Pennsylvania,
it was still small potatoes by Hollywood standards, and it was thus more than enough
to pay off all the outstanding debts and secure a tidy profit for everybody involved.
Most of the background cast was filled with regulars among the Valley Forge Players,
with most of the larger roles going to stable actors and day players out of New York.
For the lead role of teenage Steve, Harris originally considered Anthony Franciosa and
went to see a performance of the Broadway play A Hatful of Rain in which the actor was starring.
During this performance, Harris was instead taken with one of
the understudies who had a chance to act, a virtual unknown by the name of Steve McQueen.
Unfortunately, Irvin Yeaworth had already met McQueen during the filming of one of his
religious shorts some time earlier. McQueen hadn't actually been in the film, but was rather visiting
his girlfriend and future wife, Neile Adams, who was in the film. McQueen was reportedly so
obnoxious and disruptive on set that Yeaworth, who was actually around the same age as McQueen, asked
him to leave. How exactly McQueen won Yeaworth over is a matter of competing stories, depending
on who you ask, but for whatever reason, Yeaworth relented and McQueen was offered the part.
Surprisingly, though, McQueen wasn't terribly interested in the script and felt that,
at twenty-eight, he was much too old for the part. However, in need of money, he signed on,
opting to take a flat rate of two and a half to three thousand dollars instead of a percentage of
the film's gross, believing that the film wouldn't be a success. After the film started him on a path
to superstardom, he didn't like to talk about it and was reportedly very bitter about missing out
on the film's financial success, though after he died of asbestos-related cancer in 1980,
the only thing hanging on his bedroom wall was a poster for The Blob.
The female lead is played by the equally unknown Aneta Corsaut.
Harris only hired her one day before cameras rolled on the film, with her part starting the
day after. Though The Blob would ultimately be her only feature film credit, she would go on to
have a wildly successful career on television, in particular for her work on The Andy Griffith Show.
Other notable actors include Them's Olin Howlin as the blob's first victim,
The Stepford Wives' Robert Fields as Steve's mischievious buddy Tony,
and When Worlds Collide's Stephen Chase as the town doctor. Screenwriter Ted Simonson has a brief
cameo in the movie theater, and Yeaworth's voice can be heard in the background of this scene.
"He's right, Lieutenant."
Filming began in 1957 at Valley Forge Studios and in the relatively small towns of Chester Springs,
Downington, and Phoenixville, Pennsylvania. Most of the exterior buildings are real locations,
including Phoenixville's now-famous Colonial Theatre and the recently restored
Downington Diner, and the thirty-five days of shooting went relatively well,
with the exception of Steve McQueen, who was as much of a handful as Yeaworth had feared.
One constant source of frustration can actually be seen in the final film,
where McQueen's refusal to stop smoking during filming resulted in wisps of
smoke showing up in this scene, where he held his lit cigarette behind his back.
An accident can also be seen in the final film at the moment where people are rushing out of
the theater. One of the cameramen fell down and was nearly trampled, but in a show of expert
professionalism, he kept filming, resulting in some of the film's most memorable cinematography.
One last problem during filming was that Yeaworth, a Methodist minister,
refused to work on Sundays, which meant that filming ground to halt every week.
The real drama, however, was with the special effects, which took a combined total of six
months to complete. Under the supervision of Barton Sloane, most of the effects were
done with clever use of miniatures. The blob itself was usually made of silicone and red dye,
which was then put on a tilting table over either a miniature set or a still image with
the camera fixed to its position. Sloane would then tilt the entire
apparatus around to make the blob appear as though it were throbbing and moving.
There were some budgetary restraints, most notable during the climax at the diner,
and as mentioned before, the film still went significantly over-budget. While not
exactly groundbreaking, the effects are still surprisingly good for a low-budget fifties film,
and they certainly look unique when compared to other sci-fi spectacles of the time period.
There was some debate behind the scenes over how much to show of the doctor's death, which was
reportedly pretty graphic, with the final film only showing the briefest of glimpses.
The script was called The Molten Meteor, but during production, the film was renamed The
Glob. However, after wrongly assuming the name to be copyrighted, it was later renamed to The Blob.
The title was intentionally goofy, designed by Harris to get the attention of entertainment
comics, who wouldn't be able to resist using it, thus giving the film free publicity. Harris
also insisted on replacing the dramatic love theme that played over the opening credits
with a cheesy pop song performed by a lesser-known Burt Bacharach. That song, also titled "The Blob,"
went on to be a top forty hit, and I can't help but admit that it is impossibly catchy.
Paramount released The Blob as a double feature with I Married a Monster from Outer Space
in September of 1958. While the latter film was by far the more expensive,
The Blob proved to be far more popular. Serendipitously, shipping errors lead to
some prints of The Blob reaching theaters without the other feature attached, and showings in which
The Blob went solo made more money and got better word of mouth than the double features.
Still, movie critics, generally speaking, lambasted the film, unimpressed by the story,
the acting, or the effects. Even though Paramount didn't expect much from it outside of the drive-in
market, the film still managed to be incredibly popular, ultimately earning a gross of roughly
four million dollars. The film rapidly entered the zeitgeist, and as Harris had predicted,
it was used as a punchline so much that practically everyone had heard of it.
Harris would later buy the film back from Paramount and release it again a few years later,
and it was still popular enough to turn a significant profit.
There was a moderately successful sequel released in 1972--called either Beware! The Blob or,
later, Son of Blob--and a less successful remake came out in the late eighties.
There were a few failed attempts to turn it into a television series,
and there has been persistent talk of another remake for the last
decade or so. If you go to Phoenixville, Pennsylvania nowadays, you can experience
an annual Blobfest at the Colonial Theatre, a three day celebration of all things The Blob.
Now, I'll get to my opinion and analysis of the original movie in just a minute, but first,
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So getting back to the Blob, it's hard for a 50's sci-fi movie featuring
something crashing to the Earth to stand out, as it was practically a sub-genre all its own.
Still, I think The Blob does a decent job standing out in a crowded field,
with its unique teen spin, tongue-in-cheek tone, and original creature concept. It's pretty well
crafted for a non-Hollywood production, even if some of the acting isn't exactly award-worthy.
"Well now, calm down, Elizabeth!"
"I looked in both their rooms. They're both gone."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes!"
It does occasionally feel a little slow, in part due to a lack of reverse shots in many scenes,
but the script can't be faulted for taking its time to set up its little slice of small town life
in order to build tension. There are some great sequences of suspense--such as the cutting back
and forth between our heroes trying to get the old man to a doctor and the doctor himself about to
leave for a medical conference--and the climax beneath the diner is surprisingly harrowing.
As for what it all means, I want to preface my analysis with the disclaimer that the filmmakers
weren't terribly interested in crafting any kind of message or overarching theme.
The closest they had in mind was showing how teenagers weren't as hopelessly delinquent
as Hollywood was making them out to be. Even though they are shown causing mischief,
the teenagers in The Blob are ultimately heroes, collecting the tools needed to put the creature
out of commission, with even the school principal engaging in some light B&E for the cause.
Therefore, any further meaning that can be gleaned from the movie is more a reflection of the time
period and not really the intent of its creators. As with every single 1950's sci-fi movie,
The Blob is often cited as an example of "Red Panic," in which the creature is seen as some kind
of metaphor for American fears about communism. However, as is usually the case, this requires
some mental gymnastics and creative interpretation that I don't find terribly compelling.
Instead, I choose to look at The Blob as a generational struggle
between the cynical, war-weary adults and the seemingly care-free kids who
were little more than babies when World War II came to an end. Many of the adult
characters come across as almost resentful of the teenagers, especially Sergeant Bert--
"The show's over. It was a cute act, but this time it didn't work."
--as though the kids represent a young adulthood they themselves were robbed of.
The Blob can then be seen as a metaphor for cynicism itself
as it gobbles up the town's adults and threatens the children's innocence.
Regardless of whether or not that's reading too much into things, I personally love The Blob,
for its sheer entertainment value alone. It's everything I enjoy about 1950's sci-fi horror,
and it is a perfect example of a sci-fi classic.
And that's all for today, my fellow Earthlings. What do you think of The Blob? Let me know in the
comments below, and while you're there, don't forget to like and subscribe if you haven't
already. Also check out my podcasts, The Streaming Heap and From Here to Paternity--available
wherever you get your podcasts--and my debut novel Paradox, available through Amazon.
You can find links in the description and on my website at emagill.com, where you'll find
written reviews of plenty more sci-fi classics in both film and literature. Until next time,
though, when something horrifying will emerge from the black depths, this is The Unapologetic
Geek telling you to never be ashamed of what you love, as long as you're not hurting anybody.
"Input!"
"Seems to be a short circuit in here."