If approached as a guilty-pleasure piece of toss-away cinema, Octopus is a fun way to blow a little over an hour-and-a-half as director John Eyres presents a hybrid espionage thriller with a mutated octopus. Surprisingly, the film levitates above its minimal requirements as gratuitous entertainment as it posits somewhat interesting characters atop a taunt, well paced, storyline. Yet, it would be a mistake to attempt to make Octopus more than what it is because its images and subplots never move beyond the surface yet nonetheless function symbiotically as the viewer is kept riveted throughout.

In October of 1962, in the throngs of the Cold War, the Leningrad, a Russian submarine en route to Havana in order to deliver chemical agents by which to incite biological warfare on America, mysteriously sinks. Thirty-eight years later, an American sub, the Roosevelt, is contracted to covertly transport the world’s leading terrorist, whom the CIA has recently captured, to the United States. However, a terrorist coalition has been assembled to hijack the mission before an unidentified creature begins to attack the vessel upon reaching the Devil’s Eye, a lesser known Bermuda Triangle.

After reading through a handful of reviews, I wonder if the critics had watched the same film as I had. Perhaps they were expecting something different than I was. Regardless, upon picking up a film entitled “Octopus” with a huge cephalopod engulfing a cruise ship on the cover, I prepared myself for an escapist thrill ride. Surprisingly, that is exactly what I got plus a little more.

With most monster movies, especially those set at sea, the majority of the film is spent with the cast anticipating and fretting over the monster’s next attack. However, with Octopus, the film begins during the Kennedy administration before jetting to present day where a terrorist named Capser (Ravil Issyanov) bombs his ninth American embassy in two years. What ensues in a staunch espionage thriller with the added bonus of an unforeseen antagonist along the way.

Prior to the title character’s appearance, as the political plot was unraveling, I pondered whether or not the inclusion of the monster would be extraneous to the storyline. However, the film footnotes everything along the way, paralleling and connecting the Cuban Missile Crisis with the turn-of-the-century dilemma of terrorism via a mishap during the former period. I can’t state that the two periods are aptly presented metaphorically with the introduction of the monster, which, given the narrative, should. Thus, I can nod in appreciation to those who state that the monster was included merely to garner its genre categorization for marketing purposes, their argument reinforced by the sparse screen time given to the monster. What I will remark in the film’s defense, however weakly, is though the events contained in the film are largely gratuitous in this respect, they nonetheless remain interesting as everything coheres by the climax. The credit which is due the production is that everything, though sometimes a stretch, is legitimized as a rookie agent is charged with the care of a notorious felon due to the fact that his partner, Henry Campbell (Jeff Nuttall), recently died in the line of duty and time is of the essence atop the monster’s genesis being explicated in due course. Unlike so many B-efforts which are content to let things pass using their lack of funding as an alibi for the filmmakers’ lethargy, those responsible for Octopus made an honest effort despite the fact that they knew going into the project that their work wasn’t going to create earthquakes.

Perhaps, given the title, my expectations were low and, once the film rose above its minimal obligations, I begun to grant it too much credit, but I found Ravil Issyanov’s maliciousness as Casper stunningly convincing, even down to his demonic, omnipotent chuckle. Though not as attention-getting as their nemesis, the Roosevelt’s crew is comprised of a cornucopia of, if not original characters, at least a cast which deviates from the standard, however slightly. Captain Jack Shaw (David Beecroft) is an anal-retentive, maverick leader of the ship who feels rivaled by the less-than-assured CIA agent Roy Turner (Jay Harrington), a man who is thrown into being an escort when he should be on dry land pushing a pencil behind a desk in some undisclosed location. Their contention is due to Doctor Lisa Finch (Carolyn Lowery), a young oceanographer onboard whom not only has the education but also the wit and looks to keep the crew entertained throughout their voyage. Rounding out the primary cast is Brickman (Ricco Ross), the ship’s first mate, a wry, proud, token African American.

This isn’t to say the film’s a masterpiece. Obviously filmed in the middle margins of a low budget (this evidenced by the dated early efforts with CGI and the Woodian incorporation of stock footage explosions), the writing could have been more succinct (Casper’s reconnaissance crew flies a helicopter numbered “666”) and the viewer is asked to suspend one’s disbelief a bit too much at times (i.e. the makeshift, yet excessively exacting, rescue mission for the terrorist), but nonetheless, if approached as a escapist piece of cinema attempting to combine espionage with a mutated monster, the film rises to the occasion as its pace remains taunt and keeps its audience on its toes wondering how the film will end, which, all things considered, is what such a film is supposed to accomplish.

-Egregious Gurnow