INVASION OF THE BODY SNATHCERS: 4K UHD Blu-ray (Allied Artists, 1956) Kino Lorber

Sacrilege, I know. But I still prefer Phil Kaufman’s ’78 remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers to Don Siegel’s 1956 original. It’s a personal preference. And surely, there is something to be said for being first.  A lot, actually. Shot on a shoestring budget of approximately $350,000, Siegel’s Invasion has since become one of the most successful independent movies ever made. Yet, I would argue its enduring legacy is largely due to perfect timing; coming, as it did, at the height of the Sen. Joe McCarthy's Washington witch hunt and Red Scare – paranoia run rampant, and, better still, at the burgeoning atomic age with its cruelly fanciful tales about cosmic terrors from outer space. Many postmodern critics and political historians have reinterpreted Daniel Mainwaring’s screenplay as an indictment of declining individualism in America, linking the mysterious consumption of human beings by cloned pod people to the perceived communist threat gripping the nation. Sounds about right to me. But according to Siegel, nothing could have been further from the truth. At the time the film went into production, its producer, Walter Wanger was persona non grata in Hollywood, following a private incident involving his wife, actress, Joan Bennett and her agent/lover, Jennings Lang into whose crotch Wanger pumped a bullet. Released from prison after a four month stay for his crime of passion, Wanger quickly realized his professional cache, accrued from several decade’s worth of solid contributions to American movie art, had evaporated. No longer thought of as an A-list producer, Wanger turned his energies to making quality B-movies with an edgy underbelly instead.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers is an adaptation of Jack Finney’s 1954 novel, simply titled ‘The Body Snatchers’. Allied Artists, the studio distributing the film, thought the title too close to the 1945 Val Lewton horror classic, ‘The Body Snatcher’ and asked Wanger and Siegel to come up with alternatives. None of their suggestions proved satisfactory however, and eventually the studio simply added ‘Invasion of’ ahead of the novel’s original title – a rare, inspired bit of executive meddling. Wanger had wanted to shoot the film in Mill Valley, just north of San Francisco.  As this proved too costly, the fictional town of Santa Mira was cobbled together from location work done in Sierra Madre, Chatsworth, Glendale, Los Feliz, Bronson and Beachwood Canyons, as well as incorporating some studio backlot magic. After a pair of disastrous sneak previews, Allied Artists ordered all of the more light-hearted material cut from the film. They also decided that a pro- and epilogue were needed to preface and close the story on a more optimistic note. Wanger tried like hell to convince Orson Welles to do it and failed. He also desperately wanted Gig Young or Joseph Cotten as his star. No dice. In the end, Wanger settled on relative unknown Kevin McCarthy instead – paving the way for one of the truly iconic sci-fi performances in film history.

In hindsight the pro- and epilogues, as well as the voiceover narrations that bookend the film do alter the impact of the story, though arguably, to its own detriment. They diffuse the immediacy of the narrative to that of a time already passed, and, with its seemingly open-ended resolution, nevertheless to imply the imminent danger to mankind has been narrowly averted. Our story begins in the emergency ward. Dr. Hill (Whit Bissell) is called to treat a hysteric brought in by police. However, the man in custody is also a doctor, Miles Bennell (Kevin McCarthy), who has just been through a harrowing, if utterly fantastical ordeal in his hometown of Santa Mira. It seems Bennell has witnessed the takeover of his quiet hamlet by an alien race of pod people who are outwardly identical to the humans they have consumed. Their one failing? They lack in any sort of empathetical response. Understandably, Dr. Hill is a sceptic. But he asks Bennell to relay his story for the record anyway. And so, both Hill and the audience regress into the extended flashback from the weekend just concluded. We see Bennell, a kindly local physician, returning from a medical conference to find his former flame, Becky Driscoll (Dana Wynter) concerned over her cousin, Wilma Lentz’s (Virginia Christine) sudden paranoia. Wilma claims their Uncle Ira (Tom Fadden) has somehow ‘changed’ from his usual self.

Wilma’s fears are not so easily quelled or dismissed by Bennell, especially after he experiences multiple cases of the same strange behavior cropping up in some of his regular patients. Psychiatrist and close personal friend, Dr. Dan Kauffman (Larry Gates) assures Bennell the cases are a transient hallucination. Meanwhile, Bennell and Becky attempt to rekindle their romance. Alas, later that same evening Bennell’s good friend, Jack Belicec (King Donovan) implores him to come to his house. Arriving at the private residence, Bennell and Becky are shown a body discovered by Jack that has begun to vaguely take on the contents of his own physical form. Jack’s wife, Teddy (Carolyn Jones) is understandably terrified. Bennell takes Becky home. Later he telephones her, but becomes alarmed when she does not answer his call. Bennell then rushes to her home where he finds a likeness of her being grown from a pod in the cellar. Awaking the real Becky from her slumber, Bennell takes her to the Belicecs to telephone Kauffman. But by the time the doctor has returned, both corpses have mysteriously vanished.

Kauffman encourages everyone to get some rest and suggests, perhaps Bennell has become infected with the same paranoia as his patients. However, throughout the next day, Bennell begins to sense the town he has known and loved all his life has changed. People seem distant and unlike themselves. That evening Bennell, Becky, Jack and Teddy discover giant pods growing in the Belicec’s greenhouse. They conclude the town has been overrun with copies of the men and women who used to live there. Unable to call for help, Bennell tells the Belicecs to make a break for the outskirts of town, to drive all night if they have to and warn the outside world of what has happened to Santa Mira. In the meantime, Bennell and Becky hide out in Bennell’s office to escape being found out by the rest of the town’s people. The next morning the pair witness the entire town square transformed into an epicenter for the transportation of more pods to neighboring communities. Kauffman and Jack arrive at the office. At first, Bennell is relieved. But then, he realizes both men are pod people who have come to claim him and Becky. After a struggle, Bennell and Becky manage to flee, are pursued by the town’s people – all pods – but make their way across the barren landscape on the outskirts to an abandoned mine where they narrowly avert being discovered by hiding under some loose floor boards.

Becky collapses from exhaustion and in her weakened condition is transformed into a pod person. Forced to leave her clone behind, Bennell takes off on foot for the main highway. He finds the road crammed with unsuspecting tourists headed back into the city…or have they already become pod people spreading their extraterrestrial demon seed to the unsuspecting neighborhood communities? “They’re here!” Bennell insists, “You’re next!” Aside: the movie should have ended here. Instead, this scene dissolves back to the emergency ward. Dr. Hill remains as unconvinced as ever by Bennell’s fantastical yarn. Alerted to a highway accident by his nurse where the hospitalized ‘victim’ had been driving a truckload of pods, Dr. Hill suddenly realizes Bennell is not crazy, reaches for the telephone and demands to speak to the FBI in order to put the surrounding communities on high alert.

Despite its skinflint budget, Siegel’s original is artfully shot and sports some incredibly nuanced performances. There’s nothing to fault here…except, perhaps, the movie’s quaintness as a time capsule. It’s the apocalyptic vibe of the ’78 version that endures here, comparatively speaking. In the original, the pods are made mostly out of paper and their ooze is little more than an air compressor making bubbles and suds beneath the surface, luminously photographed for maximum effect by cinematographer, Ellsworth Fredericks. It’s very effective. The ’78 contains superior SFX. But that isn’t why it’s a better adaptation.  Perhaps, it’s the prototypal ‘50s sexual politics that just seems askew here, or at least, woefully strained. All of the women in Siegel’s original are treated like children, with a kind word and a pat on the head, long before they become a part of that infantilized pod sect in this apocalyptic labyrinth. Also, Dana Wynter and Kevin McCarthy have a queer on-screen chemistry. She seems infinitely more interested in him than he does in her – even on a purely platonic level. Frankly, I have never found Kevin McCarthy convincing as a romantic lead and in this, arguably his defining moment in movies, his glassy-eyed hysterics that cap off the show are less believable with renewed viewing. I can certainly appreciate Invasion of the Body Snatchers as the cultural artifact that introduced the iconography of ‘pod culture’ into our movie landscape. But beyond being first, Invasion of the Body Snatchers really doesn’t hold up in its terror and chills.

Kino Lorber gets first dibs on a 4K remaster, and the results are mostly satisfying. It’s billed as a scan off ‘the best 35mm elements available.’ Aside: I am always leery of such claims. And to be sure, what’s here is superior to all previous home video incarnations. Is it perfect? Well, no. For starters, there is a residual softness to the image. So, if you’re expecting razor-sharp clarity, you’ll be bitterly disappointed. Where the Kino does advance is in its faithful reproduction of film grain, and, in markedly improved contrast. The image here is uniformly darker, befitting its subject matter.  Close-ups are the most impressive. Here, fine detail abounds. Kino has given us two versions of the movie: the widespread theatrical 2.00:1 Superscope, and, 1.85:1.  A word here. Invasion of the Body Snatchers was shot with 1.85:1 in mind. After everything was in the can, Allied Artists decided they needed a ‘big’ movie and elected to reframe the original elements in faux Superscope aspect ratio. The 2.0 DTS audio is adequate. Carmen Dragon’s underscore fairs the best here. But dialogue and effects continue to sound tinny.

Four audio commentaries have been included herein, two legacy and two new: the legacy tracks feature director/fan, Joe Dante, Kevin McCarthy, Dana Wynter, and, historian, Richard Harland Smith. The new tracks favor historians, Steve Mitchell, Nathaniel Thompson and film scholar, Jason A. Ney. We also get three featurettes, one on Walter Wanger, another on Siegel and the movie, and a final thoughts compendium from contemporary directors reminiscing about the lasting impact of the movie. Lost in this shuffle: a slew of featurettes that were exclusive to Olive – the original company distributing the standard Blu-ray. So, if you already own it, you’ll want to keep it for “Sleep No More: Invasion of the Body Snatchers Revisited” with McCarthy and Wynter, and a host of fan-based luminaries, and finally, “The Fear and the Fiction: The Body Snatchers Phenomenon” – at under ten minutes, much too brief, with only sound bites from McCarthy, Wynter, Landis, Mick Garris and Stuart Gordon. Also absent here, a 1985 McCarthy interview hosted by Tom Hatten and the ‘puff pieces’ exploring the movie’s locations and its ‘name’. No stills gallery either, or any of those ‘rare documents’ detailing aspects of the film’s production, or the essay by Kier-La Janisse. Bottom line: Kino’s 4K transfer etches out Olive’s retired Blu. But Olive still holds the place card for comprehensive extras. Judge and buy accordingly.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

3.5

 

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