Scientific experiments backfire and produce horrific mutations: half-man, half-fish which terrorize a small fishing village by killing the men and raping the women.
Apparently this film was offered to Joe Dante, who turned it down, and this opened the door for Barbara Peeters. I would rather it had been done by Dante, of course, but Peeters was a Corman veteran (making such films as "Eat My Dust!" with Ron Howard). This was to be her last feature film, and she subsequently worked in television and did commercials.
Allegedly, when Peeters turned in her film, Corman (the producer) did not find it exploitative enough and asked Oscar-nominated director Jimmy T. Murakami (who was working with Corman on "Battle Beyond the Stars" at the time) to shoot some additional footage of the humanoids attacking random (naked) women. The additional scenes are mixed in decently enough (you cannot tell they were not original unless you are looking for them), but add nothing of substance to the film. If the nudity helped sell the film, then it was another Corman brilliant move. But did it?
And it actually changes the subplot to some degree -- rather than just humanoids attacking a small fishing village in Washington, we now have them trying to breed with human women. This is more or less glossed over in the film as shot by Peeters.
Some questions are raised about the scientific realism of the picture. One might be surprised to learn that a marine scientist does not know how to pronounce "coelacanth". And there is the fundamental flaw that they presume evolution pushes species towards a more human state. That is certainly not true. We could also wonder why all the humanoids are apparently male, or why they would be attracted to humans, or how such a union could produce offspring... but at this point we should just stop thinking and realize the writers obviously did not care about basing the story in any kind of fact (and that is okay).
Where the film deserves credit is in its gamble to show the humanoids in full view and often. Generally, the rule is to reveal the creature only at the last moment, because the audience might laugh if they see the zippers. Or you can go the other way -- like "Octaman" -- and just expose the creature as soon as possible and just keep showing it. Here there is a bit of a compromise, though leaning in the "Octaman" direction. Luckily, these are some darn fine costumes and make for a good creature feature.
Lastly, the film has taken on a new life of its own not for what it is but for who was involved. This is far from Corman's best work (it is hard to top the days of Vincent Price and the Poe Films). But we now have the benefit of hindsight to see that the no-names on this film went on to be hugely successful, far overshadowing both Peeters and Corman. Composer James Horner ("Titanic") did the score, makeup artist Rob Bottin ("The Thing") made the suits, Mark Goldblatt ("Terminator") was an editor, and Gale Anne Hurd (also "Terminator") worked as a Production Assistant. It is no coincidence that James Cameron ("Terminator", "Titanic") was also a Corman vet. These connections alone make the film of great historical value, even if we can quibble on its critical merit.
But really, it is just a whole lot of mindless fun with blood, guts, and a one-man Indian tribe.
Apparently this film was offered to Joe Dante, who turned it down, and this opened the door for Barbara Peeters. I would rather it had been done by Dante, of course, but Peeters was a Corman veteran (making such films as "Eat My Dust!" with Ron Howard). This was to be her last feature film, and she subsequently worked in television and did commercials.
Allegedly, when Peeters turned in her film, Corman (the producer) did not find it exploitative enough and asked Oscar-nominated director Jimmy T. Murakami (who was working with Corman on "Battle Beyond the Stars" at the time) to shoot some additional footage of the humanoids attacking random (naked) women. The additional scenes are mixed in decently enough (you cannot tell they were not original unless you are looking for them), but add nothing of substance to the film. If the nudity helped sell the film, then it was another Corman brilliant move. But did it?
And it actually changes the subplot to some degree -- rather than just humanoids attacking a small fishing village in Washington, we now have them trying to breed with human women. This is more or less glossed over in the film as shot by Peeters.
Some questions are raised about the scientific realism of the picture. One might be surprised to learn that a marine scientist does not know how to pronounce "coelacanth". And there is the fundamental flaw that they presume evolution pushes species towards a more human state. That is certainly not true. We could also wonder why all the humanoids are apparently male, or why they would be attracted to humans, or how such a union could produce offspring... but at this point we should just stop thinking and realize the writers obviously did not care about basing the story in any kind of fact (and that is okay).
Where the film deserves credit is in its gamble to show the humanoids in full view and often. Generally, the rule is to reveal the creature only at the last moment, because the audience might laugh if they see the zippers. Or you can go the other way -- like "Octaman" -- and just expose the creature as soon as possible and just keep showing it. Here there is a bit of a compromise, though leaning in the "Octaman" direction. Luckily, these are some darn fine costumes and make for a good creature feature.
Lastly, the film has taken on a new life of its own not for what it is but for who was involved. This is far from Corman's best work (it is hard to top the days of Vincent Price and the Poe Films). But we now have the benefit of hindsight to see that the no-names on this film went on to be hugely successful, far overshadowing both Peeters and Corman. Composer James Horner ("Titanic") did the score, makeup artist Rob Bottin ("The Thing") made the suits, Mark Goldblatt ("Terminator") was an editor, and Gale Anne Hurd (also "Terminator") worked as a Production Assistant. It is no coincidence that James Cameron ("Terminator", "Titanic") was also a Corman vet. These connections alone make the film of great historical value, even if we can quibble on its critical merit.
But really, it is just a whole lot of mindless fun with blood, guts, and a one-man Indian tribe.