This is a very weird little film crammed with many familiar names e.g. Maurice Denham, Ballard Berkeley, Aubrey Morris. The first two were in the superb NIGHT OF THE DEMON and the latter in THE WICKER MAN.
The plot revolves around an alien from the planet (?) Ganymede who travels to earth in a tiny silicone ball which glows and swells in size to release him. The alien then assumes the name of Medra and takes a flat in London, keeping himself well hidden because he is, after all, very tall, possessed of insect-like claws, and a hideously deformed face. (When I say 'hideously', I also mean 'amusingly').
Medra then places adverts on a glossy Loaded / FHM style magazine called 'Bikini Girls', inviting young attractive would-be models to a private photo-shoot in a sleazy Soho sex shop, owned by the sinister and greasy Aubrey Morris. The girls are then hypnotised by him, and he takes their picture, which he sends to them in the post the next morning. Then on the following evening, he calls at their homes, and, mesmerised by the picture and his presence, they go off with him..... to who knows where!
Sheer madness of course, but it is handled well, and the scenes involving the girls - including the sets too - bear strong comparison to Michael Powell's bizarre PEEPING TOM which appeared five years earlier.
Of course, the army and the country's top scientists join forces to try and hunt down this rogue alien. The conversations about scientific theory are hilarious. One scientist looks at a very basic radar screen at a blip which is approaching another blip she tells us is earth, and then she informs her colleagues that it has suddenly slowed down from 20,000 miles per hour to exactly twenty.
Another amusing scene involves Warren 'Alf Garnett' Mitchell. The Police call to ask him and his wife about the mysterious disappearance of their daughter. They ask, have either of them heard of the magazine Bikini Girls? Mitchell instantly retrieves a copy from the cushion under the sofa, and then looks sheepishly at his wife and the Police, realising that he has owned up to being a secret reader. But perhaps this scene possesses greater resonance: perhaps the knowledge that an alien has abducted his daughter leads Mitchell into the prejudices for which Alf Garnett is famous for?
A detective leading the investigation informs his superiors that he *might* have stumbled upon a clue. He tells them all 21 girls who have disappeared replied to adverts in Bikini Girl, and that they all disappeared the day after attending photo-shoots. Ballard Berkeley gruffly tells him that it might be worth following up.
In another scene, the police are holding a brainstorming session, trying to work out who might be committing these crimes. "There's no pattern to it," one of them laments. "21 girls in three weeks. What does it all mean?"
Erm, I may only have O level maths, but doesn't that mean one girl per night, seven girls per week?
Anyway, they finally run the alien to ground after he savagely murders a female scientist who allowed herself to be used as bait (quite a disturbing PEEPING TOM style murder, that one). Although the alien has giant insect claws and has only been on Earth a short while, he can drive a human car very well. The pursue him to a disused building where he stands in front of a glowing egg aka spaceship. He removes his costume and shows them that he is fact.....wearing another silver 'David Prowse' suit underneath. But he waves an insect claw at them menacingly, and tells them to come no nearer.
"Why are you murdering our Bikini Girl models?' they ask him. (Not literally, something like that.) He then embarks upon a lofty Gort-type speech - 'space is really, really big' and that sort of stuff - before reassuring them that he hasn't killed them, he is just going to take them back to his home planet for some weird, unspecified purpose. Well, this seems good enough for the British army and scientists, so the alien gets into his burning egg and the spaceship shoots off into the sky. Instantly, the screen goes blank and the legend THE END appears. No film credits, no army reaction.
It's easily one of the funniest and strangest films I've ever seen, and I'm going to procure a DVD as soon as possible. I thoroughly recommend it to everyone who likes quirky old British films.
The plot revolves around an alien from the planet (?) Ganymede who travels to earth in a tiny silicone ball which glows and swells in size to release him. The alien then assumes the name of Medra and takes a flat in London, keeping himself well hidden because he is, after all, very tall, possessed of insect-like claws, and a hideously deformed face. (When I say 'hideously', I also mean 'amusingly').
Medra then places adverts on a glossy Loaded / FHM style magazine called 'Bikini Girls', inviting young attractive would-be models to a private photo-shoot in a sleazy Soho sex shop, owned by the sinister and greasy Aubrey Morris. The girls are then hypnotised by him, and he takes their picture, which he sends to them in the post the next morning. Then on the following evening, he calls at their homes, and, mesmerised by the picture and his presence, they go off with him..... to who knows where!
Sheer madness of course, but it is handled well, and the scenes involving the girls - including the sets too - bear strong comparison to Michael Powell's bizarre PEEPING TOM which appeared five years earlier.
Of course, the army and the country's top scientists join forces to try and hunt down this rogue alien. The conversations about scientific theory are hilarious. One scientist looks at a very basic radar screen at a blip which is approaching another blip she tells us is earth, and then she informs her colleagues that it has suddenly slowed down from 20,000 miles per hour to exactly twenty.
Another amusing scene involves Warren 'Alf Garnett' Mitchell. The Police call to ask him and his wife about the mysterious disappearance of their daughter. They ask, have either of them heard of the magazine Bikini Girls? Mitchell instantly retrieves a copy from the cushion under the sofa, and then looks sheepishly at his wife and the Police, realising that he has owned up to being a secret reader. But perhaps this scene possesses greater resonance: perhaps the knowledge that an alien has abducted his daughter leads Mitchell into the prejudices for which Alf Garnett is famous for?
A detective leading the investigation informs his superiors that he *might* have stumbled upon a clue. He tells them all 21 girls who have disappeared replied to adverts in Bikini Girl, and that they all disappeared the day after attending photo-shoots. Ballard Berkeley gruffly tells him that it might be worth following up.
In another scene, the police are holding a brainstorming session, trying to work out who might be committing these crimes. "There's no pattern to it," one of them laments. "21 girls in three weeks. What does it all mean?"
Erm, I may only have O level maths, but doesn't that mean one girl per night, seven girls per week?
Anyway, they finally run the alien to ground after he savagely murders a female scientist who allowed herself to be used as bait (quite a disturbing PEEPING TOM style murder, that one). Although the alien has giant insect claws and has only been on Earth a short while, he can drive a human car very well. The pursue him to a disused building where he stands in front of a glowing egg aka spaceship. He removes his costume and shows them that he is fact.....wearing another silver 'David Prowse' suit underneath. But he waves an insect claw at them menacingly, and tells them to come no nearer.
"Why are you murdering our Bikini Girl models?' they ask him. (Not literally, something like that.) He then embarks upon a lofty Gort-type speech - 'space is really, really big' and that sort of stuff - before reassuring them that he hasn't killed them, he is just going to take them back to his home planet for some weird, unspecified purpose. Well, this seems good enough for the British army and scientists, so the alien gets into his burning egg and the spaceship shoots off into the sky. Instantly, the screen goes blank and the legend THE END appears. No film credits, no army reaction.
It's easily one of the funniest and strangest films I've ever seen, and I'm going to procure a DVD as soon as possible. I thoroughly recommend it to everyone who likes quirky old British films.