The Creature underwater, with Ricou Browning in the suit
by Lee Price
Birthday Greetings to the Creature
Marvelously scaled creatures gliding through the water – like fish, snakes, alligators, and gill men from black lagoons – don’t show their age. Based simply on his timeless appearance, you’d probably never guess that Universal’s final classic monster, the Gill Man, is about to pass the 70th anniversary of his original mass-market film release in March 1954. Or perhaps he’s turning 400 million years old, if we assume that the movie scientists are correct in placing him as a sole lonely survivor from the Devonian period, eternally gliding through vast expanses of swampy time.
For the occasion, we’ll light one candle on the cake and let him bat it out with a sweep of his webbed hand. (He never liked light much.) Happy Birthday to the Creature from the Black Lagoon!
The following notes, in this blog entry and two subsequent pieces on the sequels, are intended to serve as a birthday tribute to an old friend, aging well in 3D and glorious black-and-white widescreen, and still retaining enough potency to inspire Academy-Award winning filmmakers.
The Genius of the Creature
I first saw the Creature from the Black Lagoon nearly sixty years ago, doubtless with all the poor image quality endemic to a mid-1960s TV set. It wasn’t widescreen, it wasn’t 3-D, and the screen was probably fuzzy with static. Nevertheless, I don’t remember being bothered by the image quality one bit. Perhaps poor reception even increased the atmosphere, rendering the murky Amazon and its primeval wildlife all the more mysterious.
Sixty years late, I still love the film. It’s a very good 1950s science fiction movie that succeeds via the same route taken by Casablanca (1942) – through an unexpected alchemy of talents almost accidently arriving at the right place at the right time. It’s not the vision of a single auteur, instead benefiting most from genius contributions offered by people not even listed in the screen credits.
Here’s where I see genius in the Creature from the Black Lagoon:
The Genius of the Design of the Creature: The vague script described a man-fish – equipped with both gills and lungs – measuring seven-feet in length from his webbed feet to the dome of his frog-like head. Studio memos offered contradictory advice regarding the percentage of man to fish in a man-fish. The first attempt at constructing a Gill Man costume was an unintentionally comic getup, derisively dubbed The Pollywog at the studio.
Seventy years later, the final full-body Creature suit has become so iconic that it’s difficult to grasp just how creative and original it was. I see genius in both its design and sculptural execution. So who gets the credit for this inspired work? For artistic concept and design, a wealth of evidence points to Milicent Patrick as the visionary with a sketchpad, seamlessly combining elements of fish, frog, reptile, and human into a unified whole – one part plausible aquatic creature and one part lumbering land monster. While the film was in production, Patrick’s work was highly respected by her peers and she was even briefly feted for her role as a sort of den mother to the Universal monsters on a national publicity tour when the film opened.
Unfortunately, that brief burst of national attention spelled the end of Milicent Patrick’s budding career as a designer of monsters. Enraged by the attention she received, Bud Westmore, head of the makeup department at Universal International, immediately dismissed Patrick upon her return from the tour, essentially blackballing her from any further makeup work at the major Hollywood studios, all dominated by the powerful Westmore family. Her full story has only emerged in the past 15 years, first through investigation by horror movie researcher par excellence Tom Weaver, then significantly built upon by Mallory O’Meara in her biography of Milicent Patrick, The Lady from the Black Lagoon. It’s a delightful book, brimming with well-deserved outrage and scorn for a Hollywood culture that happily accepted Patrick’s genius contribution and then promptly kicked her out the door. O’Meara firmly establishes a prominent place for Patrick in the Universal monster hall of fame, deserving of similar acclaim to that accorded to other monster-kid fan favorites like Jack Pierce, Kenneth Strickfaden, and John P. Fulton.
More genius needed? Masterfully bringing Patrick’s sketches to foam rubber life, ace craftsman Jack Kevan molded the sleek reptilian body and Chris Mueller, Jr. sculpted the surprisingly expressive monster head, with matching suits created for both Creature actors (Ricou Browning in the water and Ben Chapman on land). In its seamless detail, their work easily surpasses all the knock-off full-body monster suits that soon cluttered the world of 1950s science fiction cinema in movies bound for eventual desecration on Mystery Science Theater 3000.
Milicent Patrick, Jack Kevan, Chris Mueller, Jr… you won’t find their names in the screen credits. Bud Westmore seized all the credit, while contributing nothing of artistic importance. According to Chris Mueller, “Westmore signed the checks.” Continue Reading »