George McCowan's Frogs could have been a terrific piece of camp if it didn't take itself so seriously. The story of a photographer trapped on an island plantation owned by the Crockett family, Frogs one-ups other "eco-horror" films of the 1970s by featuring a multitude of murderous animal species instead of just one. The scenes where poisonous snakes and alligators dispatch members of the Crockett family are understandable, but many of the earliest death scenes are purely preposterous. My favorite was when a group of tarantulas "dropped" a ton of Spanish moss on one victim and then bit him to death. Another scene where a group of lizards "knock over" a bunch of poison containers in a greenhouse in order to asphyxiate another victim is unintentionally hysterical, too. It doesn't help that the family basically has no motivation to stay on the island after the bodies start to pile up. The reason why is because Jason, the grouchy Crockett family patriarch, doesn't want anything to interfere with his birthday festivities. So in late scenes when Jason practically disowns his surviving family members because they'd rather leave and live instead of staying with him on his birthday are downright enraging. If there was a proper explanation for why Jason doesn't want anything to spoil his birthday, that would be one thing. But the film doesn't really give one. He's just a grouchy old man. It spits in the face of competent character development! But regardless, there is still some enjoyment to be gained from watching Frogs. With the exception of their performances during the ludicrous death scenes, the actors all do wonderful jobs. The cinematography is surprisingly excellent. And there is a basic visceral pleasure in watching all kinds of swamp life scurry about. I shudder at the thought of Frogs being remade. You just know that the producers would insist on CGI amphibians.
6/10
No comments:
Post a Comment