Attack of the Crab Monsters (1957) – Movie Review
Synopsis
“Attack of the Crab Monsters” is a classic 1957 B-movie, directed by the daring and imaginative Roger Corman. Set in the backdrop of a remote Pacific island, it tells the story of a group of scientists headed by Dr. James Whittaker (played by Richard Garland) who venture to an uncharted isle as part of a research expedition. Their mission: to study the peculiar wildlife and geological formations of the region. However, it quickly descends into chaos when they discover that the island is inhabited by grotesque, oversized crustaceans—the titular crab monsters, which are not just mindless beasts but are imbued with an intelligence that allows them to communicate and strategise.
As the team digs deeper into their research, they learn that these monstrous creatures have devoured the minds of their human victims, using their knowledge to preserve their own survival. One-by-one, the unfortunate scientists are picked off in increasingly bizarre and terrifying encounters, as the relentless crabs stalk their prey. The film explores themes of survival, the perils of scientific hubris, and the fragility of human life when faced with the primordial forces of nature—albeit through a decidedly camp lens.
As Dr. Whittaker grapples with the horror unleashed upon his team, he finds himself in a race against time to uncover the crabs’ weaknesses and save his remaining companions. The narrative culminates in a showdown between human ingenuity and nature’s primal terror.
List of Actors and Their Characters
- Richard Garland as Dr. James Whittaker
- Pamela Duncan as Dr. Emily H. Arnold
- Russell Johnson as Dr. Carl A. Murdock
- Mel Welles as G. M. "Duke" Stroud
- Amanda Randolph as the island’s native woman, who gives vital information about the crabs
- John O’Leary as the malevolent crab monster voice
Review
"Attack of the Crab Monsters" epitomises the charm and quirk of 1950s science fiction cinema, standing as a delightful example of the genre’s penchant for the fantastical and the absurd. Corman, an architect of B-movie fare, harnesses a modest budget and transforms it into a surprisingly engaging narrative that implies a deep-seated fear of nature and the unknown.
One of the most striking aspects of the film is its strong sense of place. Despite being evidently staged on limited sets, Corman and his crew manage to evoke a genuine atmosphere of isolation and menace. The tropical island is well-utilised, juxtaposing its lush greenery with the grotesque horrors lurking beneath the surface, effectively creating a sense of dread that persists throughout the film.
The crab monsters themselves, crafted through a combination of puppetry and practical effects, are both ridiculous and unsettling. Their oversized claws and human-like attributes lend them a sense of individuality that is much needed in a creature feature. Rather than merely functioning as mindless predators, these crabs have a personality, which adds a layer of complexity to their horror. They evoke a mix of fear and curiosity as they engage with the humans, exhibiting a form of intelligence that drives the narrative tension.
The script, penned by Corman and co-writer Charles B. Griffith, is simplistic yet effective. It adopts a seriously tongue-in-cheek tone, weaving in campy dialogue that sometimes lands well and other times feels hilariously out of place. Such moments often become memorable for their unintentional humour, which adds to the film’s charm. For instance, interaction between the scientists and their playful banter often lightens the mood before plunging the audience back into the abyss of terror wrought by the crabs.
The performances are laudable if somewhat uneven. Richard Garland’s portrayal of Dr. Whittaker is earnest, capturing the intensity and desperation of a leader thrust into nightmarish circumstances. Pamela Duncan as Dr. Emily H. Arnold serves as a commendable counterpart, driving forward the feminist narrative of the era—the idea of a woman not merely as a damsel in distress but as an integral and competent part of the team.
Russell Johnson’s Dr. Carl A. Murdock is a highlight, expertly balancing a mixture of scepticism and scientific bravado. Interestingly, the character arc evolves towards a poignant reflection on the potential perils of scientific exploration, prompting viewers to ponder the ethical ramifications of humanity’s quest for knowledge. While the dialogue occasionally reverts to clichéd tropes, Johnson manages to imbue his character with a refreshing depth that stands out in the muddled ensemble.
On a technical level, “Attack of the Crab Monsters” exhibits the quintessential Corman aesthetic—impressive for its time, yet undeniably dated by modern standards. The special effects are surprisingly well-executed, especially for a film produced on a shoestring budget. Most notably, the sound design contributes significantly to the film’s eerie atmosphere; the disembodied low-frequency growls of the crab monsters amplify the horror elements effectively.
Corman’s use of lighting and shot composition also garners attention. The interplay of shadows and light creates a visual tension that complements the narrative’s foreboding tone, reminiscent of classic horror films. While it may not reach the heights of great horror, the film certainly possesses a visual feel that is crowd-pleasing in its own right.
It’s important to consider the film from the perspective of its time. The anxiety surrounding the atomic age, with the dawn of nuclear technology, reflected broader cultural fears of mankind’s hubris—fears that are mirrored in the film’s portrayal of scientists who are ultimately overrun by the very creations they seek to understand. The subtle commentary on the unpredictable consequences of scientific exploration resonates well within the historical context and forms an unintended layer of depth.
However, “Attack of the Crab Monsters” is not without its flaws. The pacing occasionally drags, with certain scenes unfolding predictably. At times, the intentions behind character actions feel contrived, leading to moments of frustration for audiences seeking a more nuanced plot. The film can suffer from its own campiness, as certain comedic tones clash awkwardly with the horror elements, leaving viewers unsure whether to laugh or scream.
In conclusion, “Attack of the Crab Monsters” is a wonderfully eccentric piece of mid-century cinema that captures the essence of the B-movie experience, sitting comfortably within the pantheon of cult classics. While it may not be considered a cinematic masterpiece by contemporary standards, its charm lies in its audacity—a campy yet earnest reflection on human folly, the unpredictable nature of the unknown, and the comedic potential of the absurd.
For fans of science fiction, horror, or those simply seeking an entertaining evening of classic creature-feature fun, Corman’s film stands as a testament to the creative spirit of its time. Given its delightful absurdity and unexpected moments of intelligence, I would rate “Attack of the Crab Monsters” a solid 7 out of 10. It embodies the spirit of the era while leaving room for reflective musings on the intersection of humanity and nature, cleverly mediated through the lens of fantastical horror.