This early 'roughie' has acquired legendary status as the first really gory horror film to be made in America since the introduction of the Production Code of 1934.
Montauk, Long Island provides a suitably desolate and atmospheric backdrop, well-used by director/cameraman Jack Curtis, and which saved on the construction of sets during a production that Martin Kosleck later recalled took place in fits and starts over a three year period. The visual punch of the exteriors also owes a lot to scriptwriter Arnold Drake, who brought his experience in comic books to bear by storyboarding the film in advance; while vivid visual effects were achieved by such low-tech means as scratching holes on the negative with a pin to create the eerie glowing points of light that depicted the creatures in their miniature form. Drake's script also has a dry wit that enhances the far-fetched proceedings, along with Radley Metzger's editing and Julian Stein's score.
The four leads are all good (although surely they could have come up with a more original name for the hero than Grant Murdoch?). Barbara Wilkin and Rita Morley satisfyingly metamorphose from figure-hugging dresses into figure-hugging slacks upon arrival on the island, and the latter's performance as drunken diva Laura Winters improves considerably when her character eventually sobers up. It's probably not Ray Tudor's fault that Omar the beatnik has already outstayed his welcome before he even sets foot on dry land, since he was obviously written that way; but it makes his gruesome death all the more eagerly anticipated.
The finale, however, comes as a bit of a letdown, since the flesh eaters were ironically a far more interesting and unusual menace while they were microscopically small; when they ultimately coalesce into one enormous and repulsive monster, the film's conclusion becomes disappointingly conventional. The gruesome gore effects that give this film its legendary status derive from the disgustingly intimate nature of the corrosive havoc they wreak on their victims - stripping flesh bare, tearing them apart from inside, and so on - in ways that derive directly from their tiny size.
Montauk, Long Island provides a suitably desolate and atmospheric backdrop, well-used by director/cameraman Jack Curtis, and which saved on the construction of sets during a production that Martin Kosleck later recalled took place in fits and starts over a three year period. The visual punch of the exteriors also owes a lot to scriptwriter Arnold Drake, who brought his experience in comic books to bear by storyboarding the film in advance; while vivid visual effects were achieved by such low-tech means as scratching holes on the negative with a pin to create the eerie glowing points of light that depicted the creatures in their miniature form. Drake's script also has a dry wit that enhances the far-fetched proceedings, along with Radley Metzger's editing and Julian Stein's score.
The four leads are all good (although surely they could have come up with a more original name for the hero than Grant Murdoch?). Barbara Wilkin and Rita Morley satisfyingly metamorphose from figure-hugging dresses into figure-hugging slacks upon arrival on the island, and the latter's performance as drunken diva Laura Winters improves considerably when her character eventually sobers up. It's probably not Ray Tudor's fault that Omar the beatnik has already outstayed his welcome before he even sets foot on dry land, since he was obviously written that way; but it makes his gruesome death all the more eagerly anticipated.
The finale, however, comes as a bit of a letdown, since the flesh eaters were ironically a far more interesting and unusual menace while they were microscopically small; when they ultimately coalesce into one enormous and repulsive monster, the film's conclusion becomes disappointingly conventional. The gruesome gore effects that give this film its legendary status derive from the disgustingly intimate nature of the corrosive havoc they wreak on their victims - stripping flesh bare, tearing them apart from inside, and so on - in ways that derive directly from their tiny size.