MonsterHunter

This is probably about my third favorite moth movie behind Mothra and The Silence Of The Lambs. Has the idea of giant blood-sucking moths ever kept you up late at night? Did you ever wonder if maybe in the deepest, unexplored regions of Africa that maybe there were moths that could be collected by crazy British scientists so that they could develop them into man-sized creatures that flew around and laid a Dracula-style smackdown all over innocent dopes that just happen to be wandering around the scenic English countryside?

Or maybe you’re just curious as to how Peter Cushing paid the bills between gigs on Hammer Films. Whatever your reason for watching The Blood Beast Terror, you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how bland it all is. You really can’t hate a film that stars the classy Peter Cushing as an inspector hot on the trail of a big bug in Victorian-era London, but the movie’s premise is simply too stupid to really engage you beyond the point of vague disinterest.

On the one hand, you can give the film points for trying something a little different. A cop in search of a blood-draining monster that turns out to be a big moth that is somehow related to an entomologist’s experiments isn’t something you’re going to see every day in the horror genre. On the other hand, a movie about a killer moth that turns into a busty (and crabby) babe isn’t something you’re really going to want to see every day in the horror genre every day.

I mean, it all comes down to the fact that the monster is a moth! Oh, and it’s not just one of those monsters that you only get fleeting glimpses of as it does its foul deeds. No, the filmmakers decide give you the Monster Full Monty several times and show this dang moth in all its rubber suited glory! As it stood there, all black and hairy with big red eyes, I was reminded of one of the more sedate villains that Ultraman might have fought rolled around with across scale models of Tokyo.

In the wilds of Africa some geek in one of those safari outfits traipses around in the mud and pulls out some dog turd sized chrysalises from a tree stump. He puts them in his little keepsake box and the next thing I know, we’re back in London. It must be in the 1800s because you’ve got people riding in horse drawn coaches, they have gaslit lamps, and I think the back of the DVD box told me so.

There’s a lecture going on at Dr. Mallenger’s house. As you surely know, it is his weekly Thursday lecture about creepy crawlies that he gives to the university students. I’ve never been to London (I wouldn’t feel safe over there, what with their cops being called Bobbies and all), so I can’t really make any comments about their post high school educational system, but I was wondering what the deal was with this lecture. Are these kids getting course credit for any of this? Is it normal to have class in your living room? And how did this guy get his hands on one of those Viewmaster Slideshow gizmos back then? I know I never went over to a professor’s house during my schooling, and there would be no way I ever would go without a substantial amount of extra credit being given.

I did have a buddy named Lance, who was majoring in Dairy Science (I assumed they churned butter and taste tested chocolate milk all day long, but Lance assured me that it was much more involved than that and that somehow or other it involved manually stimulating the cows to obtain some sort of icky sample) and he told me that when he and his fellow milk men (my term - not his) would go out to the nudie bars (I was of course at the library volunteering to feed orphans or something while they were out carousing) they would see one of their teachers there and always buy him a beer. That’s really the closest I ever heard of anyone hanging out with their teachers outside of class.

Inspector Quennell (Peter Cushing) shows up investigating this murder that’s happened somewhere or other. I can’t recall why exactly he showed up at this guy’s house, but I think it was because somehow Quennell thought Mallenger might have some info about some flying thing that committed the murder. In bizarre coincidence, Mallenger also has a daughter named Claire who just happens to be giant moth! (This is obvious since their butler has all these moth marks all over his ratty face!)

We know pretty fast that this Mallenger guy is a villainous sort. First of all, after one of the college punks at his house pulls a prank on either the serving girl or Claire (this movie left very little impression on me) by using the old “rubber spider on the shoulder” gag and causes her to faint, Mallenger slaps the guy! You could really tell this took place in London once you saw a guy slap another guy. Guy slapping just doesn’t happen here in the States. Bitch slapping does of course, but that’s a lot more macho.

The other thing that made me think that maybe this Mallenger guy had something dastardly to hide was when Quennell had him go out to the ambulance to look at a victim of this mysterious flying killer. The guy had blood all over his face, but was still alive. Mallenger said that maybe he would take a gander at him and asked Quennell for a little space. Then while Quennell wasn’t watching, Mallenger strangled the guy. What’s this guy’s damage? First he slaps a guy, then he strangles a semi-conscious guy. What’s next? Kicking a guy in the nuts for stealing his purse?

After he chokes the guy out, he tells Quennell that his official medical opinion is that the guy died of knowing a little too much about a certain giant killer moth that also happens to be my daughter. Well, maybe he doesn’t say that in so many words, but it’s written all over his face.

Quennell leaves and later almost gets put on suspension (the British call it “reassignment” since they’re so gentlemanly) for being too close to the case. Too close? Why, because he thinks some sort of flying monster did all the killings? That’s just being gullible and prone to flights of fancy. Too close would be if his partner had been killed by moths three days before his retirement or if giant killer moths were holding some of his buddies from Nam prisoner in big ass cocoons!

More people die and Quennell finds a clue at one of the murder scenes. They’re these things that look almost like giant moth scales. He takes them over to Mallenger to have a look at them and Mallenger tries to take the whole envelope’s worth, but Quennell only gives him one. A young dude who is just back from his own safari shows up at the house to show some specimens to Mallenger. He takes a shine to Claire and she invites him to watch the college kids put on a dress rehearsal of some awful play they’re doing. For reasons that remain shrouded in mystery, play practice is at Mallenger’s house.

This play has nothing whatsoever to do with the movie, but it wastes about seven minutes which would otherwise be devoted to the terror that is giant moths, so it’s tolerable. After practice, this dude goes out with Claire and gets himself killed. Mallenger plays it pretty dumb from here on out and denies ever meeting the kid, even though everyone knew the kid was at his place and in fact the police had to show him how to get to Mallenger’s place. Mallenger flies the coup and goes off into the country with Claire in tow to continue his experiments.

For reasons that I’ll let you discover for yourself, Quennell decides that he’s going deep undercover. His cover story is that he’s on a fishing holiday as a banker. Only in a British movie about a big moth would the elderly star go undercover for the climax as a banker. The best part is that he is taking his daughter with him as part of his cover! Even his boss kind of blanches at the dumbness of that stratagem, asking Quennell if that would be safe. Well, shite no it won’t be safe! That’s why I’m bringing my sexy daughter along, to distract them, if you will!

While Quennell’s chief interest at this point seems to be the giant fish (whatever happened to that giant moth you were chasing?) that are mounted on the wall of the inn where he’s staying at, Mallenger feverishly works on his experiments which naturally involve trying to hatch a male giant moth to mate with Claire!

Almost any movie with Peter Cushing can’t be called completely worthless and he does a good job here as the inspector who drinks a lot of tea and puts his daughter in harm’s way. That said, however, there really isn’t anything else to recommend with this one. As you’ve no doubt gathered, the idea is a fairly dumb one and isn’t ever really explained. I suppose we are to assume that Mallenger is one of those uppity scientists that is trying to create a new form of life, for no other reason than to see if it is possible. Even if you’re going to be doing that, why would you fart around with moths?

And what am I suppose to make of the fact that the giant moth appears as a regular woman most of the time. Is it a big moth that can turn into a woman? Is it a woman that can turn into a big moth? Does Mallenger have really big holes in his cheap wool suits?

What exactly is going on with his experiments? Why is the moth so big and why is it obviously a biped with wings? And why does it need human blood? Who cares? The whole thing kind of reeked as a really substandard Hammer movie that Hammer would have rejected due to the script being fairly pointless and not too smart (Would anyone really take their daughter after a killer moth? Would Mallenger really be that easy to find? Would the school play really be allowed to rehearse at a mad scientist’s house?). Probably worth a look if you can get it for a few bucks since it’s easy enough to digest thanks to Cushing, but if you want a Cushing movie and from the EuroShock DVD Collection, go with Horror Express, which is a much more entertaining film. And has Christopher Lee and Telly Savales, too!

© 2008 MonsterHunter