The Fly (1958) [Repost]

The Fly was released in the midst of the 50’s monster-film craze, and make no mistake, it is an attempt to capitalize on that trend. But unlike most of those films, it never seems cheesy or campy, the science never seems like complete nonsense, and none of it comes across as unintentionally funny at this late date–even allowing for the relatively primitive special effects and the occasionally lampooned late scene involving a spider web. That scene isn’t silly here. It’s gut wrenching and horrific, exactly as it should be.

The film is also referenced in the "Fly vs. Fly" segment of The Simpsons episode Treehouse of Horror VIII: Bart and a fly enter a transporting machine, with Bart hoping that he will become a super mutant. He comes away with the body (and the size) of a fly, while the fly ends up with his own head and Bart's body. The movie was also parodeed in a the Disney film The Emperor's New Groove where Kuzco goes into the jungle and sees a regular fly crying out, "Help me, help me," before it is devoured by a scary looking black spider that says, "Too late," after consuming the whole fly. It was also the principal inspiration for MANT!, the movie-within-a-movie in Joe Dante's 1993 comedy Matinee.



For younger viewers, especially those generally familiar with horror and who might have seen the 1986 version of this film, there are a couple surprises. One, that the story in the original, while similar in its broadest features, is very different in the details, and has a very different focus. The second surprise is that Vincent Price is not the star of The Fly. If we asked someone roughly familiar with the David Cronenberg film and familiar with Price’s stature to guess, they’d probably say that Price would play Jeff Goldblum’s part. Instead, Price is a supporting actor, and his role is relatively minor, although of course it is a high quality performance and as support, the role is critical to the film.



One similarity in director Kurt Neumann’s masterful version is that we’re taken on a bit of a psychological adventure. But here, the subject of the breakdown is Helen Delambre, Professor Andre Delambre’s (the Goldblum part) wife. As The Fly opens, we see Helen in an industrial environment, walking away from a press that’s spilling over surprisingly gruesome (for the era), bright red blood. Helen calls her brother-in-law, Francois (Price), to tell him of the evil deed she just committed. Oddly, she’s not that upset, and Francois, and the authorities, quickly deduce that she must be insane. While all of this is going on, we see Helen being incredibly neurotic about flies that happen to be in her home. It’s all a bit of a mystery.

Neumann and writers George Langelaan and James Clavell perpetuate the mystery skillfully. We’re not quite sure what the story is, but we’re given enough information to make guesses. At the same time, we’re not so in the dark that we just become irritated and give up. This section of The Fly is sustained for some time, and when the moment comes that Helen reveals the shocking backstory, which is re-enacted instead of just re-told, and which ends up forming the bulk of the film, it’s the perfect moment for a release from the tension of the mystery.



Patricia Owens as Helen is the real star here, and her performance ability will have you buying her ever-faithful, obedient and loving wife without a second thought, despite its contrast with just about anything we know in popular culture post-"Leave It to Beaver." The Fly both nestles comfortably in 1950’s stereotypes but at the same time breaks them, with a realistic-seeming portrayal that’s complex and that’s probably the source of the stereotypes in the first place. David "Al" Hedison’s "mad-scientist" isn’t really mad, he’s just obsessed with his work, and it seems perfectly reasonable. Andre is a man on the verge of becoming the next Edison, Bell, or even more. Price’s portrayal of the brother-in-law has just the right combination of emotions to capture a man who just lost his brother to a possibly insane sister-in-law who he loves as much as his brother and his nephew. Herbert Marshall as Inspector Charas is never too overbearing or too lenient, and his final moment of realization is deeply disturbing.