Contamination

I remember clearly the summer of 1979. I was 12 years old and very interested in all things science fiction and horror. My collection of Fangoria and Starlog magazines were second only to my huge comic book canon (which also included the few obligatory issues of Heavy Metal...hey, I was an adolescent male afterall). Those were heady times and I remember the day clearly. School was out, Project UFO was on that night, and I was sitting out in the backyard hammock reading Starlog vol 23. This was the issue with the first mention of the film Alien, a seminal movie that would stand tall against every great science fiction or horror tale ever created. This was the type of movie that would transcend genres and create a whole generation of people who would never be the same (especially after the alien-popping-out-of-John-Hurt's-stomach scene).

It goes without saying that from that moment I just couldn't wait to see Alien in on the big screen. However, I couldn't convince my parents to accompany me. And because I couldn't locate any other legal guardians wanna-bes, I was stuck. So I did what every red-blooded sixth grade sci-fi geek would do. I read the book (Alan Dean Foster, ISBN 0446829773...you can buy it used on Amazon starting at $0.01). It was well-paced and I couldn't put it down.

While there's probably some lesson about the power of reading and imagination, blah blah blah, my point is that by the time I actually got to see the movie, I was a bit disappointed. Where was the pacing? Where was the detail? Where was the scary alien? (Okay, the movie alien had its moments, but trust me what I imagined was a lot scarier). Most people spend 90-120 minutes at a movie. The entire buildup for me lasted over a period of years but was, in the end, a bit of a let down. A tough life lesson.

But this blog isn't about Alien or any of the following movies in that franchise. It's about another film called Contamination or as it's known in Italy (and as director Lugi Cozzi wanted to call it) Alien on Earth. Contamination was released in 1980 and was immediately tagged as a cheap Eurotrash Alien ripoff. And I'm here to categorically state that is exactly what it is. It's got blatant cheapened-down copycat bits. Where you have much of Alien set in outerspace, you get Contamination here on boring old Earth. But it also has some greatness to it.

As a plot device, Contamination features glowing throbbing alien eggs tend pop at the most inopportune times (usually when someone is nearby). These eggs look a lot like giant olives until they start throbbing and making some cool music (that sounds a bit like something from Brian Eno). When they pop they unleash snotty goo that always seems to end up on someone. In addition to causing an icky cleanup situation, this goo has a side effect on people (and rats): it causes their stomachs to burst.

For me, this is why I had always wanted to see Contamination. I had heard rumors about the gore and just had to see if it lived up to the hype. But for years you could only find it on crappy VHS in the darkest corners of independent video stores. A new release from Blue Underground restored it to its glory: 16x9 anamorphic widescreen...clear as a bell print...great sound.

The talent in this flick is centered around three actors: Ian McCulloch (the star of Zombie), Louise Marleau (Colonel Stella, a nasty "get it done" type lady with a soft side) and Marino Mase (a seasoned New York detective that can't help cracking wise all the time). These three stumblebums work their way through a tangled "what should we do next?" script while delivering wonderful lines that must have caused a few crackups on the set ("We don't know anything about them [the eggs] but I do know that cold will stop them.").

Contamination has a lot of lowbrow entertainment factor. It's very reminiscent of old sci fi movies from the 50s and anyone who likes them will like this. I was glad to finally see it as the stomach popping scenes were much better than I had imagined. Unlike with Alien, my expectations were exceeded.

A quick aside ... the prop that created that wonderful Alien stomach scene was purchased by singer Chris De Burgh in 2004 for $30,000. I'm glad that all those "Don't Pay the Ferryman" dollars went for something good.

Posted by: Cinemologist on Thursday, June 08 at 8:01 AM | Comments (5) | Permalink