The Strange World of Planet X

Forrest Tucker - Gil Graham
Gaby André - Michele Dupont
Martin Benson - Smith
Alec Mango - Dr. Laird
Wyndham Goldie - Brig. General Cartwright
Hugh Latimer - Jimmy Murray
Dandy Nichols - Mrs. Tucker
Richard Warner - Insp. Burns
Patricia Sinclair - Helen Forsyth
Geoffrey Chater - Gerard Wilson
Hilda Fenemore - Mrs. Hale
Susan Redway - Jane Hale

Introduction
The worldwide success of Val Guest’s Hammer/Exclusive production The Quatermass Xperiment (1955) caused something of a minor boom in sci-fi filmmaking in the UK during the mid-to-late 1950s. Among the titles that probably owe their existence to Guest’s film are Paul Dickson’s Satellite in the Sky (1956), Arthur Crabtree’s Fiend without a Face (1957) and Robert Day’s First Man into Space (1958).

Most of these pictures were either written specifically for the screen or based on existing literary material. Others, however, took the lead of Hammer and exploited the success of recent genre television programming. Both The Quatermass Xperiment and its direct sequel, Val Guest’s Quatermass II (1957) were derived from the BBC network, while other companies opted instead to adapt works from the Corporation s new commercial rival, ITV, as was the case with the film under review here, Gilbert Gunn’s The Strange World of Planet X.

Synopsis
At a small research facility in the rural South of England, an experiment into the manipulation of magnetic fields is being carried out in a laboratory. The experiment is disrupted when one of the technicians, a computer operator, accidentally causes a short circuit in the equipment and is injured. This short is powerful enough to cause electrical disturbances in a nearby village, where the local pub experiences a strong surge of electricity. Laird, the scientist in charge of the project, and his Canadian assistant Gil Graham go over the possible reasons why the equipment acted in the way it did. The scientist lays the blame on the facilities master computer. He tells Graham that they must get a new operator for the system to replace their injured colleague as soon as possible. In Whitehall, two senior mandarins charged with administering Laird s research discuss pulling the plug on his project. This is particularly attractive to one of them, Brigadier Carter, who is dismayed at the vast amount of money already spent on it, apparently without result.

His associate named Wilson, however, believes that Laird’s research into the effects of magnetic fields on metallic and organic material could be of great military value, especially if his claims that he has made some progress recently are to be believed. The Brigadier is not convinced and decides to go to the facility to see for himself exactly what is going on. Wilson tells him that Laird’s new computer operator, a woman, will accompany him. In the laboratory, Laird and Graham are none to happy to be informed of their new female colleague. Carter asks to see some results of the project’s research work and is shown two strips of metal, both the same alloy. One of them has been treated with electromagnetic energy and is unexpectedly pliable compared to the other. Laird explains that the strip’s entire molecular structure has been rearranged. Just then the new computer operator turns up and introduces herself.

She is a pretty French woman called Michele Dupont. Later, Graham explains to the Brigadier how the properties of magnetic fields could be used for military applications. Meanwhile, in the laboratory Dupont explains how the computer could be made to work far more efficiently and powerful than in its present form. Carter is told of concerns that the effects of the experiments may actually be felt out within the confines of the laboratory and are currently not fully understood. The Brigadier disregards the concerns and is more concerned about whether the magnetic fields are directional. He hands over two magnetic strips to be experimented on in the laboratory. Laird announces that the computer and all the other equipment his full functional and ready for use. Carter decides to stay and observe. In the village, a young girl is scolded for talking to a tramp. Back at the lab, Graham and Dupont are becoming better acquainted and arrange to go to the local pub that night to watch television.

He warns her that they will not be popular in the village since the locals blame them for a number of strange occurrences. The Canadian sympathises with their concerns to a certain extent, believing that the experiments have a potential for great harm if not controlled properly. That night, the tramp beds down for the night in a wood. Laird warns the Brigadier to leave all magnetised metals, including his watch, in another part of the facility as it could affect the outcome of the experiment. Upon reaching the laboratory, Carter leaves his briefcase on a hook attached to the wall. Laird orders the experiment to begin. As it progresses to its conclusion, the briefcase flies off the hook, nearly hitting Dupont, and crashing into the equipment causing a massive burst of energy. The TV set in the pub explodes, while outside the sky is lit up in a violent display of lightning, with the tramp’s face being burned by a bolt. It turns out that the Brigadier had inadvertently left his keys in his case. However, the experiment has achieved a result. Two metals strips provided by Carter now crumble to dust in his hands. The next day, newspapers report bizarre weather conditions and reports of flying saucers across the land. Near the research facility, a courting couple see a strange light falling to Earth.

Review
The main difference between The World of Planet X and the other productions inspired by television dramas, including Val Guest’s The Abominable Snowman (1957) and Quentin Lawrence’s The Trollenberg Terror (1958), is that while the makers retained the title of the original 7-part ATV television serial, the completed film has only a tenuous link with the actual programme itself, which was mainly concerned with the subject of time travel. Rather, producer George Maynard (Zeta One 1969) and partners Artistes Alliance secured the rights to the eponymous novel that spawned the broadcasted work, written by actress-turned-author Rene Ray.

While the ATV venture was scripted by Ray herself, screenwriting chores for the feature film were delegated to Paul Ryder, best known for a small number of crime thrillers from the 1950s and 1960s. Of those, Don Chaffey’s The Girl in the Picture (1955) and Cliff Owens’s A Prize of Arms (1962) are probably the best known and most highly regarded.

Both the screenplay and the movie itself contain some interesting elements. Among these are the presence of Martin Benson (Gorgo 1961) as the refreshingly benign alien who adopts the pseudonym Smith. While obviously inspired by the Michael Rennie character in Robert Wise’s seminal science fiction work The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), in appearance and demeanour, he owes a great deal to Helmut Dantine in an earlier British genre entry, Burt Balaban s Stranger from Venus (1954). English actor Benson even goes as far as mimicking the Viennese performer s accent.

Unlike the Rennie and Dantine characters, Smith is not a representative of an extraterrestrial governing body, but apparently a free agent, although he is by no means the only visitor to this world. Also setting him apart from his predecessors is the fact that he has arrived on Earth not to issue threats or ultimatums, but rather to highlight the potentially devastating effects that mankind s experiments on the planet s magnetic fields may cause.

Benson s assertion that Earth has been the subject of alien visitation for possibly thousands of years, certainly as far back as being able to witness a meteor impact causing polar shift, together with the revelation that his spacecraft uses magnetic fields as a power source, suggests that the writers were familiar with the writings of Desmond Leslie, widely considered the father of British UFOlogy. Leslie also provided the treatment that Stranger from Venus was developed from, implying that the connection between this work and Balaban s may be stronger than is generally acknowledged.

From roughly the early 1970s onwards, a recurring theme in science fiction cinema, particularly of the post-apocalyptic or catastrophic model, was the depletion of the Earth’s ozone layer, through pollution or scientific misadventure, and its effects on the planet’s climate and life-forms. Examples of movies where this was a feature include William Girdler’s The Day of the Animals (1977), Sergio Martino’s Mani di Pietra (1986), and Roland Emmerich’s The Day After Tomorrow (2004). Thanks to the advent of popular science journals and programmes dealing with the subject on TV and radio, an area of concern for writers in the genre during the 1950s, particularly novelists and short story writers, was the presence of the ionosphere which surrounded the planet and protected it from daily bombardment from an array of potentially deadly cosmic rays. In The Strange World of Planet X, the effects of a weakening of the ionosphere appear very similar to the situation found in those later films, such as freak weather conditions and its effects on animal life.

In fact, according to Smith, the effects of damage to the ionosphere through experiments with magnetic fields are far more catastrophic and include changes to the structure of organic material. In the case of humans, the effects will eventually kill them, but only after they have been driven insane. This is evidenced by a normally docile tramp being transformed into a homicidal maniac. The alien warns that the entire eco-system may be severely disrupted with evolutionary changes taking place overnight rather than over generations. Insects in particular will be affected, with resultant abnormalities in size and other forms of mutation. It is also suggested that entirely new life-forms could spontaneously appear, as had happened in some coastal areas, albeit in a harmless microscopic form.

Of course, for dramatic purposes, the military, represented by Brigadier Carter (Wyndham Goldie, Seven Days to Noon 1950), choose to disregard the potential dangers inherent in the experiments carried out by Dr Laird (Alec Mango, The 3 Worlds of Gulliver 1960). Instead, they are more interested in whether the results achieved in a chamber in his laboratory can be replicated outside and, more importantly, any device derived from the results of the experiment is directional. This last item suggests that the kind of weapon that Carter is proposing is the natural successor of raygun weapons seen in films like Tim Whelan’s Q Planes (1939) and countless Republic Pictures serials of the 1930s and 1940s, although given a more sound scientific rationale.

A final interesting feature of the material is the status of Planet X itself. For humans, the entity (along with its possible inhabitants) is an imagined world that proves useful in explaining, and exploiting fears about, an array of strange phenomena and occurrences. In Smith s realm, Earth is Planet X and is used as a conceptual tool by children to learn about the mysteries of the universe. Any movie bearing such a wonderfully evocative title as The Strange World of Planet X will obviously have a lot to live up to. Unfortunately, Gilbert Gunn s work fails to do just that.

It becomes apparent almost from the outset that neither Paul Ryder nor his director has any real empathy with the material or the genre they are working in. Gunn chooses to shoot nearly all his scenes in long, static medium shots, with the occasional cutaway to break up the tedium. Not only does this make the film visually pedestrian, it also succeeds in slowing the narrative flow of the piece down to a crawl, making the short 75 minute running time something of a challenge to sit through. During this period, Isleworth Studios, where this production was turned out, was usually operated as facility for the making of television commercials and promotional shorts. This is reflected in the often-threadbare settings from Bernard Sarron, along with a generally primitive air about the whole enterprise that makes it seem much older than its 1957 copyright date.

There are a few occasions when Gunn, who entered the film industry in the 1930s as a screenwriter (The Door with Seven Locks 1940), does raise his game somewhat. Examples of this include the sequence where a schoolteacher (Patricia Sinclair) finds herself trapped in a schoolhouse surrounded by giant insects. Thanks to the efforts of cinematographer Joe Ambor and sound effects courtesy of Cecil Mason, this is a highly atmospheric piece of filmmaking and shows a distinctly expressionist influence. Atmospheric lighting is also important in another impressive sequence when Gaby Andre flees a giant grasshopper by running through a forest at night, only to be ensnared in a massive spider’s web. Probably the most impressive piece of direction from Gunn, however, is the attack on a young woman (Catherine Lancaster) by the tramp, now driven insane by the effects of cosmic rays. This part of the movie actually employs some inventive camera angles and movements as well as imaginative lighting, and features a genuinely startling jump cut when the woman s scream is replaced by the feedback from a showband s amplifier in the local pub. Overall, however, Gunn s direction remains stubbornly flat and lifeless, and it is easy to see why he never rose above the level of forgettable quota fillers.

Paul Ryder’s screenplay also has serious shortcomings. The main problem is the utterly inane dialogue that he forces his characters to utter at length, in particular some decidedly awkward sounding scientific explanations. Frustratingly, there are a number of points of interest in the material which are alluded to and then abandoned. These include the relationship between Dupont and the civil servant Wilson (Geoffrey Chater, Endless Night 1971). It is obvious that they have been lovers in the past, a situation complicated by the arrival of Forrest Tucker as a rival to the French woman s affections. The role of Dupont herself is thrown away by poor writing. Initially presented as the intellectual equal of the men on the research project, she is soon reduced to being the romantic interest, and ultimately a boringly typical sci-fi damsel-in-distress.

The screenplay also suffers from some glaring inconsistencies which Gunn’s plodding direction serves to highlight. Probably the most obvious of these is the police not acting on the report of a disfigured maniac stalking woodlands near the village, even after an attack on a schoolteacher. Apart from issuing warnings about travelling through the forest alone, they even fail to act when another women disappears, along with her fiancé, from the same spot. The lack of urgency in the police investigation affects the whole of the screenplay, with little in the way of mounting tension as Laird s experiments lead to a possibly apocalyptic conclusion. What is especially hard to accept is the willingness of both the police and secret service, represented by Richard Warner (Shadow of the Cat 1961) and Hugh Latimer (Ghost Ship 1952), respectively, to suddenly believe Benson’s claim that he is an extraterrestrial and that giant insects are roaming the English countryside. Such is the quality of Ryder’s writing it could be argued that it received the appropriate treatment from director Gunn.

Matters are not helped by the level of performance on display. Although The Strange World of Planet X boast an impressive line-up of seasoned character actors, all turn in decidedly clumsy performances which at times resemble rehearsals rather than actual takes. Surprisingly, one of the biggest culprits is Hollywood talent Forrest Tucker. Best known for his appearances in Westerns like Gordon Douglas’s The Nevadan (1950), Jerry Hopper’s Pony Express (1953) and Joseph Kane’s The Vanishing American (1955), Tucker had appeared sporadically in British productions throughout the 1950s, and is fondly remembered for his roles in the highly regarded The Abominable Snowman and The Trollenberg Terror. Here, however, he appears desperately ill at ease in the role of the Canadian scientist, to the extent that at one point he appears to fluff his lines (a scene which was surprisingly retained for the final cut). Proving particularly uncomfortable are dialogue exchanges with Gaby Andre (La Vendetta di Ercole 1960). French import Andre, meanwhile, has had her voice dubbed by another (uncredited) actress sporting a truly strange accent.

Martin Benson s performance can sometimes be best described as eccentric. In some close-up shots he appears to be addressing another character, who, when a cut is made to medium shot, is actually in a completely different position to that the actor is talking to. Of course, this could be explained by emphasising Smith s sense of disorientation upon arriving on the planet, but it is still very curious. One of the film’s few imaginative touches has Dr Laird quietly humming to himself in his lab as he prepares to destroy the world.

On its initial Stateside release, the American distributors (Distributors Corporation of America) gave Gilbert Gunn’s film the more exploitative title of The Cosmic Monsters, and indeed the titular characters do make an appearance in the latter part of the second act, when they besiege a schoolhouse and overrun nearby woodland. Rather than go for expensive full-size mock-ups as was the case in Gordon Douglas’s Them! (1954), or stop-motion animation as featured in Kenneth G. Crane‘s Monster from Green Hell (1958), the cost-conscious filmmakers instead decided to take the Bert I. Gordon (Beginning of the End 1957) approach and employ optically enlarged real insects to depict the effects of cosmic radiation.

Anglo-Scottish Pictures who provided the film’s special effects were actually owned and operated by Les Bowie. Bowie is best known for his longstanding relation with Hammer Films which continued right up until the company’s final days, but he worked on many other pictures (often uncredited), including Val Guest’s The Day the Earth Caught Fire (1961), Jacques Tourneur’s City Under the Sea (1965) and Richard Donner’s Superman The Movie (1978). His particular areas of expertise were miniatures and mattework, and he became something of a legend within the effects community for his ability to work to impossibly tight deadlines and budgets.

If there is a weakness in the field of special effects in the UK, it is in the area of optical processing, a shortcoming which still affects the industry today, even in big budget ventures like the James Bond franchise. It is therefore surprising to live action footage, featuring performers, and optical work mixing so well. This is particularly true where Gaby Andre is terrorised by a giant spider whose web she has become entangled in, and group of soldiers encounter with abnormally sized grasshopper, centipedes and beetles. Unfortunately, the impact of these sequences is greatly reduced by the fact that the creatures are normal common-or-garden bugs, filmed at their normal speed. Of course when The Strange World of Planet X appeared at the end of the 1950s, the scenes featuring the oversized life-forms would have been more powerful, especially for those with phobias about insects, and it is important to be sympathetic to the technical standards from that period.

Following the example of set by their genre counterparts in Hollywood, the various creatures are despatched by the military, with a bunch of squadies sent into the forest to shoot the insect with Lee-Enfield rifles. In a memorably gory scene, one of the men is attacked and killed by a grasshopper which then proceeds to eat his face in a particularly graphic manner. If shot in colour, this sequence would have been totally excised by the censors, and indeed is missing from many television prints.

The megalomaniac Laird is dispatched in a similarly brutal manner. After politely asking permission from the authorities, Smith despatches a flying saucer to blow the scientist’s laboratory and house off the face of the planet. The spaceship itself resembles nothing less than a child s spinning top. While the miniature used to represent Laird s facility is well done, the pyrotechnics used to depict its destruction are rather poorly done, especially in the editing of the sequence. A final shot of a bright light hurtling across a cloudy night-time sky does create a minor frisson.

Special mention should be made of Robert Sharples opening and closing music. While the overall score is mediocre, these theremin-based pieces are wonderfully eerie, creating a potent air of mystery and anticipation, something which the finished film singularly fails to deliver on.

In some territories The Strange World of Planet X was released on the same bill as The Trollenberg Terror, leading some reviewers to assume they were part of the same production package, rather than the separate entities they are in fact.

Production manager John Dark later became a producer of a varied body of work including George Sidney s Half a Sixpence (1967) and Lewis Gilbert s Shirley Valentine (1989). He is probably best known to genre fans for the series of fantasy adventure works directed by Kevin Connor during the 1970s, notably The Land That Time Forgot (1974), Warlords of Atlantis (1978) and The Arabian Adventure (1979).

© Iain McLachlan 2006