November 2, 2009

There are bad movies, there are terrible movies, and then there’s Plan 9 from Outer Space.  

This 1959 Ed Wood entry is legendary for its unmatched awfulness.  From the very start—where viewers are presented with a psychic named Criswell who sits behind a desk in a sparsely decorated room—it’s apparent that things are going downhill fast.  This man welcomes us with his nasally voice by saying, “Greetings, my friends. We are all interested in the future because that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives.” These sort of cryptic, often illogical phrases plague the dialogue of Plan 9, and this one in particular serves as the perfect preview for the ineptitude looming on the horizon.  Case in point: after knocking on the hull of a landed UFO (which looks and sounds just like steel), a policeman confidently states, “This doesn’t sound like any metal I’ve ever heard.”

I fully support imaginative plots as long as they have some sort of justification for being outlandish, but with Plan 9 all bets are off. Here’s the deal: flying saucers are seen over various parts of California.  A commercial airline pilot whose seen one of these strange crafts teams up with a group of police officers to investigate these events; they soon make the discovery that aliens are pummeling the earth with some sort of electromagnetic wave that causes the recently deceased to rise from the grave.  The reason these extra-terrestrials are doing this is simple enough: they’re worried that mankind is on the brink of developing an intergalactic bomb called the Solaranite, so they want to scare us by flexing their technological superiority.  Or, at least, I think that’s what’s going on.  Anyway, if this sucker’s detonated, it will destroy the entire universe.  

How does the Solaranite work, you ask?  According to the alien Eros (who, by the way, is a human dressed in what appears to be some sort of glittery figure-skating garb which has an emblem resembling a midieval battle axe embroidered on the chest) this doomsday device works by creating a chain reaction among the photons of light emanating from our Sun—that’s right, all of this pertains only to the star of our solar system.  Utilizing alchemic science from the dark ages to great effect, Eros goes on to explain to the “Stupid! Stupid!” earthlings that since light from our Sun touches every planet in the universe—”ehem”—the detonation of this device (that we’ve yet to discover) will wipe everything that exists off the map.

Despite it’s utter ridiculousness, the ludicrous story is the least of Plan 9’s worries.  What really drags this one into the bowels of movie hell is the acting.  It’s almost as if Ed Wood handpicked people who have absolutely no acting experience.  From the pantomimed ”Ah!”s to the hilariously rigid “Noooooo!”s, this is on par with the worst student video you can find floating around out there on YouTube.  Of particular note here are the resurrected dead, who lumber around dumbly with their mouths hanging open.  These “monsters” stealthily approach their adversaries at a snail’s pace, taking no less than 30 seconds to walk 5 feet toward their victims.  Oh yeah, and when they reach their prey, what would you imagine they do?  Bite them?  Throw them? Incapacitate them in some moderately believable way?  No—what these undead typically do is box their enemies’ ears or clap them on the shoulder.  This, of course, knocks their quarry out cold (or kills them).

The non-makeup effects don’t help, either. Given the date this was released people certainly wouldn’t expect visuals of Jurassic Park magnitude, but what you get here are essentially things attached to strings.  The aliens’ flying saucers wobble against matte paintings of clouds and panning shots of various cityscapes, and the alien technology consists of boxes with knobs sitting atop wooden tables.  The graveyard scenes, which seem to include tombstones made out of cardboard, are just icing on the cake.

Some other noteworthy bits of badness here are the logical inconsistencies, one of which includes a detective declaring it unlawful to enter a man’s grave without notifying the next of kin and then immediately reversing his decision and commanding one of his subordinates to “climb down there!”

Even though this movie is very, very bad, it actually manages to generate a small amount of charm. This, of course, comes from its total unawareness of how absurd the proceedings are, which—as is the case with all “so bad they’re good” movies—also makes it unintentionally funny.

When it’s all said and done, though, I believe our mysterious narrator (who often seems to be reading the screenplay for us) says it best: “There comes a time in each man’s life where he cannot believe his own eyes!”

For you, dear reader, that time will come when you’ve mustered up the courage to sit through Plan 9 from Outer Space.

out of 5

–Chris Flowers

Check out a scene from the infamous stinker: