Recently Viewed: Creature from the Black Lagoon

Creature from the Black Lagoon belongs to the horror genre; that much is obvious. Not from the perspective of the human “protagonists,” though; their journey is more akin to an old school pulp serial, with a group of improbably attractive, aggressively Caucasian scientists venturing to an “exotic” locale (heavily armed, naturally) in search of fortune and glory. The true terror is experienced by the eponymous monster: from its point-of-view, a bunch of violent outsiders invade its territory and attack it without provocation, intent on exploiting its very existence for monetary gain.

Now tell me: who is supposed to be the “hero” in this scenario?

[And yes, this premise does sound surprisingly critical of capitalism, colonialism, and chauvinism by the standards of America circa 1954—which is probably why its deeper implications are relegated to mere subtext.]

The movie is, of course, justifiably celebrated for its technological innovations: beyond its original 3D format (which hasn’t been terribly well preserved on home video), the ambitious underwater cinematography is still absolutely spectacular, while the delightfully tactile “rubber suit” effects utilized to bring the Gill-man to life remain impressive even in a modern context. What really appealed to me, however, was director Jack Arnold’s effortless command of the fundamentals of visual storytelling. I would describe his style as blunt, yet purposeful, conveying the film’s central themes elegantly and economically. Consider, for example, the following shot:

Despite the relative simplicity of its blocking and composition, the image is dense with narrative significance. To the far left, Mark Williams—the financier of the expedition to the titular Black Lagoon—complains about the steep cost of the excursion, outright admitting that he’s banking on discovering a flashy, marketable novelty in order to recoup the expenses. On the opposite side of the screen, marine biologist David Reed argues that such a mercenary attitude is antithetical to the spirit of serious research; the pursuit of knowledge, he insists, requires a leap of faith—for the sake of progress, one must be willing to accept the inherent risk of failure. And situated at the literal center of the debate is love interest Kay, valiantly (albeit futilely) attempting to mediate between the two irreconcilable extremes.

In short, Creature from the Black Lagoon manages to distill its entire overarching conflict to a single frame. And that is the epitome of immaculate craftsmanship.