| The Hideous Sun Demon Directed by Robert Clarke ( U.S.A �1959) Here�s a film that blends Jeckyl and Hyde style scientific hyjinx with werewolf mythology, and adds just a pinch of sleaze along with an isotope or two just to make things interesting. Dr. Gilbert McKenna isn�t your average Dr. Jeckyl. Unlike the Robert Louis Stevenson character, he isn�t exactly a man who attracts empathy. He�s incompetent, self centered, and has little regard for the welfare or feelings of his colleagues. To top it off, he�s the biggest alcoholic since Barney Gumble. McKenna has fallen off the wagon so many times, he�s always on the lookout for a soft spot to land. One day, the scientist foolishly exposes himself to a heavy dose of radiation in a government funded laboratory. After absorbing more gamma rays than a Chernobyl dairy cow, the unconscious McKenna is dragged to safety by several paramedics. After regaining consciousness in a local hospital, he�s kept under observation by staff who are baffled by a complete lack of visible side effects. Head physician Dr. Stern invites Gil�s concerned colleagues into his office to discuss the more bizarre aspects of the case. Dr. McKenna Sr. is Gil�s father, and is hardly shocked or surprised by his son�s ineptitude. He knows all about his son�s longtime friendship with Johnny Walker. Miss Lansing is Gill McKenna�s assistant. She�s the colloquial girl next door. If The Hideous Sun Demon played by the usual rules of fifties sci-fi, Miss Lansing would fill the role of the wholesome love interest. �I asked you and Dr. McKenna to come in because there are some very puzzling factors in this case� Dr. Stern (who for the record looks nothing like Howard Stern, or even Daniel Stern) informs the concerned pair of boffins. The physician explains that �it seems inconceivable that he could be exposed for that long without any visible effect�. As they leave the hospital, McKenna Sr. hypothesises that Gil�s love for firewater probably played a major part in the incident. Always the doting wannabe love interest, Miss. Lansing leaps to the defence of the Andy Capp of science. She explains that Gil just had a headache that morning. �Gil had a hangover� clarifies McKenna sr. When he visits his bed-ridden son the next day, he has some sound advice for him. �Whisky and soda mix� not whisky and science�. I�ll have to remember that next time I go to order a whisky and magnesium chaser. Our first real impression of Gil is that he isn�t your average fifties sci-fi leading man. A concerned Miss Lansing has just left the hospital after a long vigil. Fifties sci-fi dogma dictates that he should express his gratitude with a whirlwind sixty five minute celluloid romance culminating in marriage, and a house with white picket fences. Instead, he hits on the first nurse to enter the room. The buxom nurse asks how he�s feeling, and our Gil utters a pick-up line that makes all of my failed pick-up lines seem like stellar examples of witty repartee by comparison. �Until a moment ago, I felt strong enough to shake down the walls of this very hospital� he tells her with a sly grin. �As soon as you entered the room, your beauty so overwhelmed me that I felt as weak as a day old kitten�. The nurse is a trained professional, and she isn�t buying it. After years of service, she�s heard �em all before. There�s the old standard �is that a ladder in your tasteless brown hospital issue stockings, or a stairway to heaven?�. And then there was the time she heard the more creatively tasteless �how�s about I examine you with my thermometer?�. And both of these pick-up lines were far more witty than Gil�s pathetic attempt at humorous proposition. After asking what time cocktail hour is, the irradiated scientist is taken to the rooftop of the hospital in a wheelchair to catch some rays. The only other patient is an elderly lady who�s enviously reading up on all the latest diseases in a medical journal. As the sun�s rays beat down on Gil McKenna, they have a drastic effect on his altered genetic make-up. He turns into a hideous sun demon, which is the scientific term for a giant sorta human looking lizard. After giving the old lady a heart attack, he flees the hospital and heads for home. Because it�s Los Angeles, it seems that nobody notices Gil commuting between the hospital and his basement in his lizard-like state. �No!...it can�t be!� he growls in a forked tongue as his fist goes through a full length mirror in the basement. Before long, the lack of U.V. rays in the basement result in him reverting to human form. It seems that Gil is now the reptile world�s answer to the Lycanthrope. Because it�s the days before S.P.F. 35+ sunscreen, the sometime sun demon doesn�t know what to do. After calling his colleagues, they advise him to stay inside until they can discover a cure. McKenna Sr. stresses that his son shouldn�t leave the house for any reason. It seems like a flawless plan of damage control, until the scientist realises that his liquor cabinet is empty. By nightfall, he�s had about all he can stand. He dons his sunglasses (because even moonlight irritates his now sensitive eyes), jumps into his convertible, and drives to the seediest bar he knows. As downs whisky after whisky (carefully following his father�s advice to mix his whisky with soda), he notices a good time girl by the name of Trudy tinkling the ivories in a dark corner of the bar. The sultry pianist has that certain sleazy quality that Miss Lansing lacks. To begin with, the intoxicated scientist doesn�t have to call her Miss anything. It�s just plain old Trudy. But it�s getting late, and the sun is on the rise. After having just one more whisky for the road, Gil reluctantly leaves for home. While McKenna has been partying, his concerned colleagues have been burning the midnight oils to find a cure. The next evening, the shaky scientist returns to the bar to stave off his irritating sobriety. He buys Trudy a drink, and all is going well until her mobster boyfriend George shows up. In the most implausible occurrence of the film, the mild mannered academic beats the shit out of the hardened street thug. Perhaps it�s something to do with his sun demon inner strength. Gil leaves the bar with Trudy, and they wind up asleep on the beach after a one night stand (yet another fifties sci-fi taboo). McKenna is rudely awakened by the morning rays transforming him into his reptilian alter ego. The oversized iguana leaps into his convertible, and races home leaving a half naked Trudy on the beach in the middle of nowhere. Throughout the rest of the film, the scientist can�t seem to get it through his thick skull that he can avoid these minor annoyances by merely staying inside during the daylight hours. Soon his daytime lizard jaunts begin to result in murder, and he�s the L.A.P.D.�s public enemy number one after killing George and running over a police officer. A newspaper reads: �Weird Killer Still at Large�. Many have laughed at this film over the years, but Robert Clarke�s sci-fi quickie is a lot better than most give it credit for. Ironically, the nuclear exposure has little bearing on Gil McKenna (played by Clarke himself) making his daily lizard-like transformation. The main factor is his alcohol addiction, which invariably results in him sprouting scales and fangs. His self destructive nature is also a catalyst. Any reasonable man could easily prevent the transformation under similar circumstances, but Gil�s self loathing along with other negative traits sabotage any chance of salvation. Entertainment : 2.5 out of 4 Watchability : 2 out of 4 Overall : 2.25 out of 4 Reviewed by Blake |