"Sentiment! I will not have sentiment interfering with our vital work!"
Lee Mason (Jennifer Jayne)
We're not in Kansas anymore — which is good, because The Gods Hate Kansas. Or at least they do according to the forgotten author Joseph [John] Millard (1 Jan 1908 – 18 Feb 1989), whose thus-titled science fiction novel was first published, in 1941, in Startling Stories (1939-55) magazine and then eventually reprinted, in 1964, by Monarch Books. That's the cover of Millard's only published science fiction novel above, with some pretty groovy artwork by the unjustly overlooked and totally forgotten Jack Thurston (5 or 15 Aug 1919 – 27 April 2017), who went on to create, in 1966, the iconic Raquel Welch poster to One Million Years B.C. (1966 / trailer) below. (A better film then the one we're looking at here, needless to say, if only because of the pulchritude of the make-up-wearing cavebabes.)
Although as an author Joseph Millard wrote numerous novelizations of films (for example, For A Few Dollars More [Tandem, 1967] and Thunderbolt and Lightfoot [Tandem, 1974]), as far as we can tell The Gods Hate Kansas is the only original book of his that has ever been adapted to the screen. One of the first things that probably got jettisoned when the decision was made by producers Milton Subotsky (27 Sept 1921 – 1 Jun 1991) and Max Rosenberg (13 Sept 1914 – 14 Jun 2004) — otherwise known as the CEOs of that beloved and long-defunct production house, Amicus Productions (Robert Fuest's Abominable Dr Phibes [1971 / trailer] & Dr Phibes Rises Again [1972 / trailer], Madhouse [1974 / trailer], The Beast Must Die [1974] and so much more) — was the novel's original title, for unlike the book, the film is set in the rural Cornwall in stiff-upper-lip England. But instead of going for something like The Gods Hate Cornwall, which they surely do, the slightly more marketable They Came from Beyond Space became the film's title.*
* Two years later, when the far more jugular-minded English production house Tigon stole, without giving any credit, half the plot to They Came from Space for their loose and far more abysmal and far more ridiculous and far more cheap-looking and far more unintentionally funny version of the tale, they went with the far-more exploitive title, The Body Stealers (1969 / trailer).
To direct the movie, Amicus turned to Freddie Francis (22 Dec 1917 – 17 Mar 2007), whose directorial projects after the decided flop of his first film, the romantic drama Two and Two Make Six (1962 / scene), are almost all of the horror or science-fiction genre. As to be expected of a director who is also a twice-fold Oscar-winning cinematographer, one really cannot fault the cinematography of They Came from Beyond Space, but other than that the movie doesn't have that much going for it. On the whole, it is hardly as bad (or as fun) as Freddie Francis's worst and most infamous film, Trog (1970 / trailer), but of the seven films in total that he was to make for Amicus between 1965 (Dr. Terror's House of Horrors [trailer]) and 1972 (Tales from the Crypt [trailer]), it vies with The Deadly Bees (1966 / trailer) as his biggest turkey. A mildly enjoyable turkey, perhaps, but nevertheless a turkey — and our version watched, going by the running time of 85 minutes, seems to be the uncut turkey version.
Trailer to
They Came from Beyond Space:
If there is a theme to the movie, a lesson that They Came from Space wants to impart, then (as in The Body Stealers) it is surely "If you want something, don't take, ask." But it is doubtful that scribe Milton Subotsky put too much thought into conveying a message, as he doesn't really seem to have put too much thought into his script. For the most part slow-moving and stodgy, the narrative is populated by too many characters, picks plot points and characters up only to drop them or leave them half-explained, brings in plot-development-important characters much too late and without any proper introduction, and sort of wanders about as if it doesn't really know where it wants to go. It feels very much 1957, not 1967, and the lack of blood, skin or sex, adult language or situations, or (almost) any believable sense of threat often makes They Came from Beyond Space feel less like a serious science fiction film than a kiddy movie. As Subotsky, the film's producer, has sole credit for the script, we would conjecture that there were simply too few cooks in the kitchen, which spoiled the poorly seasoned brew.
They Came from Beyond Space was released in the UK on a double bill with Montgomery Tully's cheesy The Terrornauts (1967 / trailer). Freddie Francis was apt to claim that Tully's film ate so much of the production budget that nothing was left for his film, but truth be told, with the possible exception of the spaghetti-colander helmets introduced towards the end, They Came from Beyond Space really doesn't look any cheaper or worse than some other rural-set genre films of the period, such as the far more respected Island of Terror (1966 / trailer). No, the flaws of the film lie elsewhere...
Like, in the serious miscasting of American Robert Hutton* (11 Jun 1920 – 7 Aug 1994) of as the main hero, Dr Curtis Temple. Hutton, at the age of 47, looks much too old for role: a man of the time when people always looked way older than they actually are, when he starts punching and kicking, it looks less like a man fighting than a persiflage of an agent film, and his visual age make his reputed recklessness (which prior to the film's narrative led to the silver plate in his skull) and taste in cars (a 1924 Bentley!) appear less manly than the possible results of a midlife crisis of a man who looks like he's pushing his late 50s.
* Miscast or not, Hutton, who spent his final days in a nursing-care facility after breaking his back at home, has some fun and cheesy genre films to his name, including The Man Without a Body (1957 / trailer), The Colossus of New York (1958 / trailer), Invisible Invaders (1959 / trailer), Wild Youth (1960 / full movie), The Vulture (1966/ trailer), Torture Garden (1967/ trailer) and, of course, Trog (1970). Of special note, however, is his only directorial credit, in which he also starred, the mind-bogglingly terrible but sort of fun The Slime People (1963 / trailer), and his later screenplay to the dreary and justifiably forgotten British hagsploitation flick with Lana Turner, Persecution a.k.a. The Terror of Sheba (1974 / trailer).
Indeed, why the few women of the film find him worth a second look is unfathomable, for above all he looks like a lecherous grandfather (and not of the GILF sort) when he's around the ladies. One of the beautiful ladies is his right hand at his office, Lee Mason (Jennifer Jayne [14 Nov 1931 – 23 Apr 2006], below not from the film, of The Crawling Eye [1958 / trailer] and Escape by Night [1965 / full film]). As normal in those times when the world was good to real men — and manly white men in particular — she and Dr Temple are a secret couple. Later, after she has been sent down to Cornwall to take a look at some "meteors" that have landed in perfect formation and suddenly drops all contact with him, his worry for her is one of the major motivations of his actions — indeed, when he finally breaks into the huge, newly built underground headquarters of the aliens that have taken over everyone's bodies and minds, he does so above all so as to kidnap her.
And speaking of women who inexplicably give Dr Temple the eye, let's not overlook the woman at the gas station (Luanshya Greer a.k.a. Pamela Greer): she is introduced and given a big build-up as a plot-relevant character with the possible hots for Temple, only to promptly disappear. (She does actually reappear at one point, which proves to be one of the film's better shocks.)
Rather the reverse of the fate of the character Farge (Zia Mohyedden of Work Is a Four Letter Word [1968 / Cilla Black's title track] and Deadlier than the Male [1967 / trailer]), who is basically dropped into the narrative well past midway with no other introduction than Temple saying, "[...] a friend, the only man I know who might possibly believe me." He does, of course, and the two naturally find a way to not just see the "pure energy" aliens and free Lee from their thrall, but realizes that wearing silver spaghetti colanders on the head prevents the aliens from taking over one's mind. And so the three, wearing some really funky-looking homemade goggles and carrying funky-looking ultraviolet-light-shooting guns, set out to stop the aliens by breaking back onto the compound, running into a rocket, and (seriously!) taking a ride to the moon. There they meet the ashen-blue leaders of the aliens, who seem to have stolen their ridiculous robes from some third-rate Italo peplum movie, and the "Master of the Moon" (the great Michael Gough [23 Nov 1916 – 17 Mar 2011]) and... well, it's all rather funny and impossible to take seriously.
But then, most of They Came from Beyond Space is impossible to take seriously, even if some of the concepts are good and would probably work in a better movie, beginning with the old chestnut of mind-controlling aliens. Harder-hitting than that, however, is the sudden introduction of a deadly "Crimson Plague", which comes out of nowhere to first kill a suddenly found ally, Agent Stilwell (Maurice Good [8 Jun 1932 – 10 May 2013 of Murder Most Foul [1964 / trailer] and Quatermass and the Pit [1967 / trailer]), and then quickly obliterate an entire town and spread further. For some inexplicable reason — the silver plate in his head? — the plague never infects Temple, despite his literally being present at Moment Zero at Ground Zero. (Utter bollocks: the scene filmed like a TV news report in which a stiff-upper-lip commentator [real-life BBC newsreader Kenneth Kendall (7 Aug 1924 – 14 Dec 2012)] walks through the plague town explaining the sickness without wearing any hazard suit, mask, or precautions of any kind. And that after it has been established that the plague is also airborne.)
When watching They Came from Beyond Space, one thought cannot but arise in the heads of a viewer: Why don't the aliens just kill Temple? Indeed, at one point Temple even places that question to alien-enthralled lackey Richard Arden (Bernard Kay [23 Feb 1928 – 25 Dec 2014] of The Shuttered Room [1967 / trailer], Witchfinder General (1968], Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger [1977 / trailer] and so much more), but he responds that they have no desire to kill him* — a statement, actually, that contradicts both alien-minded Lee's earlier order that Temple should be shot should he show up at the compound entrance again, and her later direct order to Arden to kill Temple — which, of course, he fails to do because Temple is such a hot-shot fighter. (When she herself has the chance on a deserted country road to do Temple in at one point, she chooses simply to ray-gun him unconscious.) Doing something logical like simply kidnapping Temple in the dead of night or off the deserted country roads and keeping him sedated never occurs to the advanced alien race.
* But releasing a deadly plague that kills a whole town and more, that's okay.
They Came from Beyond Space is a bad film, no ifs or buts about it. It might be well-shot and competently edited, and often the acting isn't too shabby, but the half-baked narrative of the poorly structured screenplay sinks the movie. It is not a movie that really calls to be watched, and even the youngest set might find it illogical and stupid. But when properly mind-addled and in the proper mood, and with a group of like-minded folks, They Came from Beyond Space might offer an evening of mild giggles and laughter and jeers. Those of you who like evenings like that could give the movie a go — keep a lot of liquid mood-enhancer at hand, though — but the rest of the world should look for a different film to watch.
And remember: "If you want something, don't take, ask." (And don't obliterate any towns, either.)
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