Revenge of the Creature is director Jack Arnold’s tepid continuation, like a second-guessed cutting-room alternate ending, of his own legendary monster feature, Creature from the Black Lagoon. The director comes full circle with his homage to King Kong as he takes one motif from his original–animal rights–and conducts one of the earliest and most acutely critical studies of the subject prior to abandoning all ideas, both major and minor, in favor of escapist action.

Captured and transported to a marine park, the Creature escapes and kidnaps a graduate student.

The plot synopsis is as representatively singular as Arnold’s agenda in Revenge of the Creature. Aside from completing his two-part homage to King Kong–the actions of the original reflect the Skull Island segments in Merian Cooper’s masterpiece just as Arnold’s sequel mimics King Kong’s metropolitan sequences (the Creature is captured in his native habitat, is sent to the city, escapes, and kidnaps the object of his affection)–Arnold, like Cooper, conveys an overriding, albeit prophetic, concern for animal rights as he explores two of the three main areas of focus in the field: animal experimentation and animals implemented for entertainment purposes.

After aligning the removal of a feral creature from its native habitat with Nazism by way of Joe Hayes (John Bromfield), a hired hand assigned to procure the biological anomaly, stating that doing so is “just his job,” followed by the incriminating analogy fashioned by his partner, George Johnson (Robert Williams), in his citation that the Creature’s tentative capture would be equivalent to the creation of the Atomic bomb, Arnold prophetically produces Ocean Harbor, the cinematic prototype to what would be later referred to as a marine park, three years prior to the appearance of the first of such, Australia’s Sea World. Not only does the director provide us with a vision of tomorrow’s entertainment, but he goes on to explore the ethical ramifications of such. True to the captain of the expedition’s words, the Creature is brought to Ocean Harbor, in part, merely “So people can come and stare at the Man-Fish.” Interestingly, the Creature is featured alongside Flippy, the Educated Porpoise (the adjective appears in quotations on the animal’s placard), who proceeds to raise the American flag and play football, thus Arnold positions such as an “American” activity in an attempt to unveil how forthcoming entrepreneurs would attempt to validate such animals’ treatment (he extends his patriotic criticism further, albeit briefly, with scenes involving a police officer dutifully telling two teenagers necking to go about their way and a dialogue between two young males examining the necessity, in the 1950s, of a college education).

Arnold also explores the legitimacy of animal experimentation at the expense of the test subjects’ quality of life. Reiterating the pathos established on behalf of his titular character, Arnold has us watch as the Creature succumbs to Pavlovian stimulus response conditioning by way of an electric prod during his feeding periods after, coyly but unremittingly, Helen Dobson (Lori Nelson) shrivels her nose at the poor judgment of the wild creature’s flippant indiscretion of not readily exhibiting table manners in lieu of the fact that test results confirmed that a cellular similarity exists between the Creature and Homo sapiens but before Joe warns a posse that the fugitive monster is a “thinking creature.” However, the response given the Creature from the character of Mark in the original continues amid the observation, twice over, that the Creature does not attack lest provoked as this notion is confirmed when the Gill Man eschews a lame child, who has bore him no ill will, as the boy lies defenseless in his path. (It is in the laboratory proper that we also catch a glimpse of Clint Eastwood, in his first film role, as an assistant.)

Though such subject matter is complex and had yet to be explored to any great depth prior to Revenge of the Creature, little else is developed during the film’s sparse running time–which is severed by Arnold’s regression into escapist action midway through the feature–even though, as in the original, a love triangle is present, such is never examined to any noteworthy consequence as we are forced to revisit, ad infinitum, the now cliché benevolent hand-appearing-off screen scare gag (after positive audience reaction of such a scene in the original), the Creature’s famed mirroring of the female lead’s movements while in the water (again, from the original), and the Creature hefting the prostrate heroine around time after time ( . . . from the original). Furthermore, the only moment–admittedly trivial–of (albeit wry) inspiration that Arnold’s film exhibits is that the boat, dubbed Rita, which is sent into the Amazon in order to capture the Creature in Creature from the Black Lagoon is abandoned for a newer, bigger vessel, Rita II. Sadly, the lack of serious effort expended upon the development of the script is paralleled by the lethargy involved in the production of the feature as the bubbles which emanate from Ricou Browning’s oxygen supply, which is veiled under the Creature’s mask, are not only blaringly, embarrassingly obvious, but they derive, not from the animal’s gills, but from the top of his head, which almost permits the grossly under lit night scenes to pass by unnoticed. However, this said, Arnold must be commended for not having projectile after gratuitous projectile tossed towards the camera every other scene even though the feature was photographed in 3-D.

Although adamantly diligent in his presentation of a contemporary ideal well ahead of its time, Jack Arnold’s completion of his two-part homage to Merian Cooper’s King Kong lacks the artistic qualities necessary in order to tactfully and successfully present his thoughts upon animals rights as Revenge of the Creature digresses into escapist action in the wake of tension, suspense, or any convincing, engaging plot regarding the titular character’s cited vendetta.
-Egregious Gurnow