Wow - where does one start with this?
The 1950s saw a big resurgence in science fiction films which saw man taking valiant steps into space or a wealth of bug-eyed monsters coming to Earth in their flying saucers. That other staple of the genre, the 'mad scientist', was also commonplace following on from the Universal productions of the previous decades in which the likes of Colin Clive, George Zucco and Lionel Atwill seemed to have all manner of monstrosities bursting forth from their electric-powered laboratories.
The Gamma People might sound like outer space fare, but it falls into the mad scientist camp. Having said that, it is quite unlike any other entry in the stable. For a start, this British production not only places the action in central Europe but actually has most of its shooting take place in scenic areas of Austria, and at times the panoramas of quaint towns against backdrops of lush valleys and mountains puts one in mind more of an old travelogue rather than an SF film.
Perhaps even more bizarrely, much of the first half of the film plays out like light comedy, centred around a truly unique pairing of Paul Douglas and Leslie Phillips in the lead roles. Both are playing to type - Douglas as a no-nonsense, thuggish journalist and Phillips as an upper-class photographer with a habit of smooth-talking any desirable female he encounters. This double-act generally works well, surprisingly - they're almost like an early prototype of the later pairing of Tony Curtis and Roger Moore in the 1970s TV series The Persuaders. Every attempt is made to extrapolate humour from their exchanges and reactions as they find themselves unwittingly diverted into a secret country with closed borders named Gudavia. Although eager to be on their way, transport out of the state proves just as impossible as long-distance communication. If it wasn't for the occasional hint of something more sinister, you'd be forgiven for thinking during the first twenty minutes or so that you'd somehow accidentally started watching a farce rather than the intended science fiction film.
But Gudavia holds a secret, which the two new arrivals slowly uncover, for its ruling dictator has been subjecting children to gamma rays, which can turn them into geniuses or zombie-like imbeciles. Consequently, the film takes on an increasingly serious tone as it progresses.
Although somewhat lightweight, the film does have its moments. However, I'm still clueless as to why a plot with so much potential was played for laughs to such a degree when the sinister and mysterious aspects could have been played up to good effect. As it is, the sense of entrapment and the despair of the local populace are all somewhat undermined by the light-hearted approach. Walter Rilla doesn't make for the most compelling of villains and Philip Leaver certainly doesn't carry any threat as the chief of the state police. Juvenile actor Michael Caridia as the boy genius actually upstages them both. Eva Bartok adds glamour and gravitas as the rather underused leading female of the piece.
The plot is okay but some aspects are difficult to believe in, such as how a scientist managed to not only get established but also get himself elevated to such a position of power in a country relatively soon after arriving there.
Ultimately, The Gamma People is worth a watch if only as an interesting novelty, a decidedly fresh entry in a notoriously cliched genre, but in its attempts to straddle both straight SF and light comedy, it falls between two stools and isn't particularly satisfying as either.
The 1950s saw a big resurgence in science fiction films which saw man taking valiant steps into space or a wealth of bug-eyed monsters coming to Earth in their flying saucers. That other staple of the genre, the 'mad scientist', was also commonplace following on from the Universal productions of the previous decades in which the likes of Colin Clive, George Zucco and Lionel Atwill seemed to have all manner of monstrosities bursting forth from their electric-powered laboratories.
The Gamma People might sound like outer space fare, but it falls into the mad scientist camp. Having said that, it is quite unlike any other entry in the stable. For a start, this British production not only places the action in central Europe but actually has most of its shooting take place in scenic areas of Austria, and at times the panoramas of quaint towns against backdrops of lush valleys and mountains puts one in mind more of an old travelogue rather than an SF film.
Perhaps even more bizarrely, much of the first half of the film plays out like light comedy, centred around a truly unique pairing of Paul Douglas and Leslie Phillips in the lead roles. Both are playing to type - Douglas as a no-nonsense, thuggish journalist and Phillips as an upper-class photographer with a habit of smooth-talking any desirable female he encounters. This double-act generally works well, surprisingly - they're almost like an early prototype of the later pairing of Tony Curtis and Roger Moore in the 1970s TV series The Persuaders. Every attempt is made to extrapolate humour from their exchanges and reactions as they find themselves unwittingly diverted into a secret country with closed borders named Gudavia. Although eager to be on their way, transport out of the state proves just as impossible as long-distance communication. If it wasn't for the occasional hint of something more sinister, you'd be forgiven for thinking during the first twenty minutes or so that you'd somehow accidentally started watching a farce rather than the intended science fiction film.
But Gudavia holds a secret, which the two new arrivals slowly uncover, for its ruling dictator has been subjecting children to gamma rays, which can turn them into geniuses or zombie-like imbeciles. Consequently, the film takes on an increasingly serious tone as it progresses.
Although somewhat lightweight, the film does have its moments. However, I'm still clueless as to why a plot with so much potential was played for laughs to such a degree when the sinister and mysterious aspects could have been played up to good effect. As it is, the sense of entrapment and the despair of the local populace are all somewhat undermined by the light-hearted approach. Walter Rilla doesn't make for the most compelling of villains and Philip Leaver certainly doesn't carry any threat as the chief of the state police. Juvenile actor Michael Caridia as the boy genius actually upstages them both. Eva Bartok adds glamour and gravitas as the rather underused leading female of the piece.
The plot is okay but some aspects are difficult to believe in, such as how a scientist managed to not only get established but also get himself elevated to such a position of power in a country relatively soon after arriving there.
Ultimately, The Gamma People is worth a watch if only as an interesting novelty, a decidedly fresh entry in a notoriously cliched genre, but in its attempts to straddle both straight SF and light comedy, it falls between two stools and isn't particularly satisfying as either.