The Black Scorpion: Stop-Motion Madness Interspliced with Western Charm

Willis O'Brien is often regarded as a fertile FX guru. Stop-motion animation effloresced under his versed guidance. Without him, we probably wouldn't have a guy by the name of Ray Harryhausen to enshrine with edacious zeal. O'Brien is viewed as a supernal entity in the horror community, which makes it all the more depressing to learn that his career was thronged with disaffection and dogged times.

Apparently, studio heads didn't think much of him while he was alive. After experiencing precipitant success with The Lost World and the first two Kong entrees, O'Brien was faced with grievous hackamores both personal and occupational. On the personal side of things, his sons passed away during the production of Son of Kong (details are sketchy). On the business side of things, well...there wasn't much business to speak of following the palpitating ascendancy of King Kong.

O'Brien struggled to lock financing for numerous projects. Why producers hesitated to grubstake such a prolific talent is beyond me. Many roseate concepts were canned, the most intriguing of which being King Kong vs. Frankenstein (!). The only work that he could find late in his temporized career was menial supervising gigs. He presided over Mighty Joe Young, The Animal World, The Giant Behemoth, 1960's remake of The Lost World, and of course, The Black Scorpion. He died in 1962 without ever getting a chance to raiment a worthy follow-up to Kong (although Joe is an exceptional film). Okay, this review is a drag. But this stodgy excursus isn't too irrelevant. No one really knows who officiated the majority of The Black Scorpion's special effects. O'Brien only ratified 10% of the stop-motion backwash, while a Pete Peterson is credited with the remaining 90%. Some intercalate that an uncredited Harryhausen is the mystery technician.

Maybe Ray Harryhausen is Pete Peterson? All I know is that the effects are amazing. Hats off to...whom it may concern for saving what could have been just another stopgap creature feature. The Black Scorpion doesn't have a lot going for it. The usual frippery is here - a reiterative premise, isochronal stock footage, and a pulpy love subplot. With the help of cool monsters and a unique setting, this absonant tumbleweed comes out looking better than it should have. I say "tumbleweed" because this might be the first horror/western hybrid of all time (and also because I'm tired of using the words "film," "flick," and "movie"). For at least the first 45 minutes, the film (oops!) milks an agronomic landscape. Giant scorpions attack Mexico, and it's up to a pair of speleologists to save the day.

The cast is standard, but a couple of familiar faces help the medicine go down. Richard Denning plays Hank, the boilerplate co-hero. I recognized him as Mark, the esurient jerk from The Creature From the Black Lagoon. He delivers a durable performance in both b-dainties. Mara Corday plays Teresa, a purposive cowgirl who saddles up with Hank. I didn't recognize her at first, but she also starred in Tarantula, a fun "creepy crawly" shivaree on par with this...um, "creepy crawly" shivaree.

Teresa isn't your typical girly, pusillanimous heroine. She actually has a personality and doesn't need our bold, handsome lead in order to be self-sufficient. Refreshing. Just when I thought I'd like all of the main characters, a little pest (a.k.a. child actor) calling himself Juanito crops up to exudate alluvium onto the celluloid. You have to be a real nuisance to exudate alluvium onto anything, much less celluloid. Friggin' alluvium exudater.

For the bulk of The Black Scorpion, the pace hightails it. I didn't mind the slow build-up, and the action sequences bristle with pith. Peterson's/Harryhausen's intramural scorpions are lifelike and fully articulated. Wait until you see the head beastie jerk a helicopter out of the sky and skiver it with its stinger...nice! The film loses its rustic stylings in the third act in favor of a more conventional "city stomp" upturn.

That isn't much of a dubiety, as the finale takes place in a soccer stadium. I award brownie points to any schlock goulash that finds the time to unrig a soccer stadium. Lovey-dovey furbelow mires the midsection, but you won't recall The Black Scorpion's setbacks after the end credits have rolled. It caps its shunts to become an unsung entry in the "stop-motion mastery" sub-subgenre. One can't help but to wonder what it could have been with the budgetary backing of King Kong.