Not since Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” has Denmark been so fun as voiceovers, musical interludes, overdubbing, repeated stock footage, excessively poor animation, puppets and miniature sets, character inconsistencies, and inane dialogue flood Poul Bang and Sidney Pink’s Z-movie stinker, Reptilicus.
After a mining expedition in Laplands unearths a prehistoric tail, the specimen is brought to Copenhagen to be studied. However, the sample is accidentally thawed and begins to regenerate. Before long, Denmark is under siege by a 90-foot reptilian monster which is impervious to any form of ammunition.
Let’s move right past the voiceover, which seems to be a prerequisite for B-movie fare as well as the aforementioned musical interlude, for what can one expect from a Danish lounge singer who, for some inexplicable reason, finds herself cast in a monster movie? Instead, let’s get right down to the dubbing. By and far, the story in and of itself deserves some type of Ed Woodian unachievement award. Though shot in Demark, Pink insisted that the dialogue be spoken in English in order to make the film more readily marketable to an American distributor despite the fact that this would force most of the cast to recite their lines phonetically. When AIP reported that the soundtrack would need to be relooped lest Reptilicus be met with laughter (funny in and of itself in that this implies that AIP believed this to be the only problem with the production). Pink threatened with a lawsuit to keep anyone from corrupting his cinematic masterpiece but, after much consideration and everyone he met slapped his upside the back of the head, he recanted and permitted the English dialogue to be redubbed in . . . English. Of course, considering that the actors where uttering a very slow syllable at a rate of one per second, the new soundtrack moves a bit too quickly for its own good and, as a consequence, we have a horrible same-language overlay fiasco that even the poorest of Japanese-turned-English productions trump.
Next we have to give a wink and a nod to misplaced, mismatched, and just plain missed stock footage that if you missed the first go around, don’t fret, because you’ll have countless opportunities to see the exact same shot time and time again. Not only this, but one of the most frequently revisited sequences involves the Reptilicus’s projected, poisonous saliva, dubbed “acid slime,” i.e. neon goo painted over each frame. However, prepare yourself, this isn’t nearly the worst of the animation for when the big dino munches on a Dane farmer, we are treated with some strange cartoonish outline of a figure being consumed in, for lack of a better word, Inane-O-Vision. Think Terry Gilliam’s work on Monty Python devoid of the satirical intent and you’ll have a fair idea of what’s going on.
Speaking of Reptilicus, I can see why he decided to stay in Denmark instead of crossing over to a more populated area in that, even though he inhales fourteen cows right off the bat, he nonetheless didn’t make the monster team for he is undoubtedly the most famished terror to grace the history of the screen. If Godzilla had an anorexic cousin, Reptilicus would be thy name.
Next in line we have the ever so popular B-movie affliction referred to as script writer ADD in that General Mark Grayson (Carl Ottosen) comes thundering in from the United Nations and is pissed off from the get-go, that is, until he has the opportunity to serve as our polite, considerate, omniscient tour guide to Copenhagen in lieu of the fact that he’s American. I don’t believe in my many long years as an audience member, I can recall such a blatant, unapologetic product placement. What’s worse is that it’s an entire town. After we ever-so-merrily stroll around, visiting the various highlights of the city, Grayson returns to his role as C.O. Asshole, a.k.a. warmonger, as he is informed after he dispatches the Navy to bomb the creature who is hiding in the sea as he heals, that blowing the monster into “a thousand pieces” would be a bad move considering he’s regenerative, lest we have a thousand problems on our hands. Now, granted, “My bad,” comes into play here but, hey, no foul because no one bothered to tell the ringleader the logistics of the creature. However, after a breather and when he thinks no one is paying attention, Grayson then has the Army go out to blow Reptilicus up. I can just hear the alibi now, “But you said not to have the Navy blow him up!” Indeed, it’s like trying to tell a group of preschoolers about sharing. But wait, here he comes to save the day! That’s right, the General just happened to have majored in bazooka sharp shooting while in boot camp, otherwise how in the hell could he manage to launch a missile into the beast’s mouth, coolly, cleanly, no questions asked, as if he were merely wiping his ass?
Though not an inconsistency, we have Mikkwlawn Peterson (Dirch Passer) as the ignorant office oaf, replete with pristine bib coveralls and plaid flannel (a head-scratcher in that he works in a laboratory, thus either get a different wardrobe or play in some dirt to legitimize the digs), who tries his damnedest to be Lou Costello. Well, uh, yeah.
By and far, the only true joy of the film is the jaw-dropping dialogue as we are given such popular ditties as “You’ll have to shoot it at point blank range from very close up,” “Whatever he is, we must destroy him. But first he must be found,” and “There is one place I think we can penetrate,” the latter, suppository-evoking line is unfortunately delivered by Grayson instead of Svend Viltorft (Bent Mejding–I swear, I’m not making either of these names up!), the blonde closet gay drill chief (go ahead, I’m laughing at this point) who, natch, is a chick magnet.
Other miscellaneous items of ignominy include the apparently eight year-old screenwriters’ decision to open the film in the Artic, though it appears to be Spring. Granted, the Lapland region is partially forested, but how many non-Danish viewers are cognizant of this fact? Furthermore, we learn that it is remarkably easy to slice through rock-solid, frozen flesh with a knife atop the note that you should never work in a laboratory if you want to have a social life because of the atmosphere’s dominating soporific effects.
Perhaps the most enjoyable non sequitur is the fleeing masses, which jog, not run mind you, jog with their hands in their pockets and pause to look back and smile at the camera. On this note, some critics have puzzled over why the bridge operator would raise the bridge if people are attempting to flee the city. My guess would be to eliminate as many of the people responsible for such idiocy in order to decrease the chances that another film such as this might be made.
Which is what seems to have occurred in that even though the entire nation and all its armed forced came together to make the movie, after it flopped, the country apparently muttered a collective “Fuck it” since Reptilicus is the first, and to date only, monster film to emerge from Denmark. Ironically, Pink and Co. did stumble upon a paradox of sorts which otherwise negates most every monster feature which came before: When dealing with pests, there is a simple, logical solution which most everyone has utilized at some point during their lives–poison the little annoyances. Hence, for the record, merely increase your dosage in ratio to the creature’s overgrown stature and problem solved. Go figure.
-Egregious Gurnow
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