A Countdown of the Five Most Ludicrous Sci-fi Films of the Cold War





The Cold War was mad. For almost fifty years, the world teteered on the brink of destruction thanks to the policy of Mutually Assured Destruction, more commonly known as M.A.D. Many of the politicians in power at the time were, arguably, mad. The constant bombardment of news about the nuclear threat was maddening. It was all mad, mad, mad. The maddest products of the Cold War, however, were the movies.

The science fiction genre mutated from a matinee sideshow into an uncontrollable, primetime beast during the Cold War, as it ‘reinforced an image of science out of control, of man losing the ability to shape his world, and of impending doom’ (John Landis). This sense of impending doom often became warped into a sense of impending lunacy: to a population mostly clueless about the effects of radiation, the ludicrous plotlines of science fiction films seemed entirely feasible. Atomic crabs? Sure. Radioactive ape-men? Why not?

Still from From Hell it Came.

Stupidity was the theme of the day for sci-fi and horror films during the Cold War. Monsters became ever more laughable, storylines increasingly verged on the ridiculous. The real world was so horrific, harboring such potential for annihilation, that cinematic monsters simply looked comedic in comparison. Thankfully, this makes for fabulous viewing for us today.

Join me as I count down the five most ridiculous Science Fiction films unleashed on the public during the Cold War. 

Without further ado, let’s begin the countdown…

5: Monster on the Campus – 1958

Silliest quote: ‘The sounds which may be recorded hereafter are those made under the influence of Coelacanth plasma…’

The plot: Scientists with far too much time on their hands catch a prehistoric fish called a Coelacanth, and decide to preserve its body using Gamma rays, seemingly unaware that a household freezer would do the same job. Soon enough, a dimwitted professor manages to slice his hand open on the irradiated fish’s scales, and then plunges his bloody hand into the Gamma ray-infused preservative liquid for good measure. The professor mutates into a neolithic ape-man humanoid – (I’m not sure why fish blood would turn you into an ape, but that’s beside the point) – and embarks on a killing rampage across a university campus. A dog is also exposed to the fish radiation and mutates into a sabretoothed wolf. Makes sense.


You’d be forgiven for thinking these scientists are experimenting on a giant gherkin. It is, in fact, a Coelacanth.

The moral of the story: There are two morals to this film: 1) When humans mess around with nuclear power, they risk catapulting themselves back to the stone age; 2) It is much better to store your fish fingers in the freezer, rather than trying to preserve them with Gamma rays.

4: X The Unknown – 1956

Silliest Quote: ‘It’s a particle of mud, but by virtue of its atomic structure it emits radiation. That’s all it is. Just mud. How do you kill mud?’

The plot: Anybody who’s ever been on a walking holiday in Scotland and forgotten to take their hiking boots will know how unforgiving the Highland mud can be… and that’s without it being contaminated with radioactive fallout and mutating into a malevolent mud monster! In this early Hammer production, a group of soldiers on deployment in Scotland detect radiation emanating from a pit in the Highlands, which quickly cracks open in some sort of nuclear volcanic eruption.

Realising that there are some pretty nasty chemicals and a supernatural force escaping from the pit, the Army concludes that filling the hole with concrete should solve the problem. When this predictably doesn’t work, napalm bombs and atomic weapons are brought in, which naturally angers the supernatural force lurking underground. Radiation from the explosion creates an evil mud monster, which threatens to gloop itself all over Scotland, submerging all haggises in its path. Will anyone survive to play the bagpipes again?

The moral of the story: I really had to put my thinking cap on for this one. Haggis and tartan aside, the tagline for this Scottish horror film sums up the fear of the invisible enemy of the Cold War: like radiation, the mud monster ‘kills, but cannot be killed’. Given that radiation is invisible, the threat had to be given a tangible, menacing face which resonated with audiences. Clearly, here, mud fitted the bill.

3: Attack of the Crab Monsters – 1957

Silliest Quote: ‘The crab can eat his victim’s brain, absorbing his mind intact and working!’

The Visitor, 12th February 1969

The plot: The obligatory American scientists travel to a remote island to study the effects of H-bomb tests on nearby Bikini atoll. It transpires that due to some nitwit not checking the wind forecasts correctly prior to the tests, there is a huge amount of radioactive fallout heading the scientists’ way. Conveniently, the humans are completely unaffected by the fallout, but the crabs on the island don’t fare too well. Freakish mutations take place, and there is soon an army of man eating crab monsters roaming the island in search of flesh! It transpires that the crabs have a particular penchant for brains, and possess the power to absorb the knowledge and memories of any victim they devour, endowing them with colossal intelligence. The malevolent crabs are eventually killed quite simply by electrocution, a rather predictable demise that you’d have thought they’d have seen coming with their enhanced brain power.

I have no idea what is supposed to be happening here.

2: Invasion of the Hell Creatures – 1957

Silliest Quote: ‘I expected to be frightened on my wedding night, but nothing like this!’

The plot: Teenagers on their way for a quick canoodle in a popular lovers’ lane encounter a spaceship in a clearing. As they flee the scene, they collide with what they at first believe to be a child. In fact, it is a three foot tall alien with a head like a huge cabbage leaf. Cramming the body into the boot of their car, the teens head to the Police station to report the extraterrestrial hit and run. Unsurprisingly, the Police believe the teens have been drinking. In spite of their arguments that they haven’t touched a drop of booze, the teens are found to have extortionate levels of plonk in their systems. It transpires that the Hell Creatures are able to poison people by scratching them with their claws. Their poison of choice? Alcohol.  Yes, really. If a victim is already drunk, the attack raises their blood alcohol levels to lethal limits. Fortunately, the booze-loving aliens are easily killed by flashing car headlights at them. Phew!

Beware, puny humans! We will get you drunk!

The moral of the story –  It’s simple: stay away from the drink, kids! During the 1950s and early 1960s, many adults were fretting about the rising ‘threat’ of teenage delinquency, as rebellious babyboomers sought to escape the traditional constraints of their fuddy-duddy parents and the nuclear tensions of the Cold War with drink, drugs and driving fast cars.  Invasion of the Hell Creatures is purely a morality tale; getting sloshed and snogging on the backseat of your car will get you in trouble. Hellish trouble that’s out of this world.

This alien’s head closely resembles a cabbage leaf. Perhaps that’s why this chap thinks he can take it on with a piece of cutlery.

1: From Hell It Came – 1957

Silliest quote: ‘Years ago, one of our great chiefs was murdered by his enemies. He was buried with seeds. He came back to life as a tree monster.’

The Visitor, February 4th 1959

The plot: On an unnamed tropical island, a tribal prince is executed and buried inside a hollowed out tree trunk. Fast forward to the 1950s, and American researchers are on the island to investigate whether atomic bomb tests being held in the area are having an effect on wildlife. The scientists don’t have to wait long for an answer: radiation has caused a tree stump to grow on the grave of the executed prince. The stump has a face, arms and a heartbeat. Soon, he has legs and he’s on the move. He’s mean, he’s green – he’s ‘the dumbest-looking monster ever seen in film’, according to John Landis. He is… Tabanga.

Oh God, no! Not Tabanga!

The atomic tree is one vengeful plant. No sooner than he’s sprouted into life, Tabanga is off on a murderous rampage: he crushes someone to death, throws a victim off a cliff and skewers another on a spike. Some islanders try to burn Tabanga to death with flaming torches, but he is clearly made of a special, none-burning type of wood, as he simply gets up and walks away. Fortunately, a convenient pit of quicksand appears in the film’s finale, and Tabanga topples in. The radioactive tree is felled, and viewers are left completely stumped as to what the hell they just watched. The end.

‘Well, I’m stumped.’

The moral of the story: There isn’t one. This film is bonkers. As one critic said upon the film’s release, ‘From hell it came, and to hell it can go!’


Rebecca Shaw

Sources

Monsters in the Movies: 100 Years of Cinematic Nightmares, John Landis.

The Bomb: A Life, Gerard DeGroot.

The Morecambe Visitor, October 16th 1956; February 4th 1958; 12th February 1969.

The Morecambe Guardian, 18th April 1958; 9th October 1959.


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