I watched one of my favorite movies, The Incredible Shrinking Man, for the umpteenth time last night. You know who this film always reminds me of? Ingmar Bergman. The Seventh Seal came out the very same year, 1957, and both films are completely preoccupied by the question of man's place in the universe. The Seventh Seal is coming out of a European art film tradition and The Incredible Shrinking Man is coming out of an American pulp film tradition, but one can make too much of that, I think. Is there really that much distance between Bergman's chess-game-with-Death conceit and Richard Matheson's diminishing-man conceit? I would argue not; and ultimately The Incredible Shrinking Man doesn't even try to hide its existential tracks in genre familiarities, going out in a blaze of philosophical poetry that even Bergman might not have dared:
I was continuing to shrink, to become...what? The Infinitesimal? What was I? Still a human being? Or was I the Man of the Future? If there were other bursts of radiation, other clouds drifting across seas and continents, would other beings follow me into this vast new world? So close...the Infinitesimal and the Infinite. But suddenly I knew that they were really the two ends of the same concept. The unbelievably small and the unbelievably vast eventually meet...like the closing of a gigantic circle. I looked up as if somehow I would grasp the heavens. The Universe, worlds beyond number, God's silver tapestry spread across the night. And in that moment I knew the answer to the riddle of the Infinite. I had thought in terms of Man's own limited dimension. I had presumed upon Nature. That existence begins and ends is Man's conception, not Nature's. And I felt my body dwindling, melting, becoming nothing. My fears melted away. And in their place came acceptance. All this vast majesty of creation, it had to mean something. And then I meant something, too. Yes, smaller than the smallest, I meant something, too. To God, there is no zero. I still exist!
It is an astonishing ending. ("I had presumed upon Nature" makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.) Interestingly, everyone has always assumed that these words are Richard Matheson's, since he wrote the source novel and the screenplay. But they are not in the novel; Matheson did not write them, and for a long time he didn't even like them. Turner Classic Movies confirms that this closing speech was written by director Jack Arnold, who fought the studio (Universal) hard for his ending. This, in Arnold's words, was "the only fight I had with them on The Incredible Shrinking Man, and I won it. They wanted a happy ending. They wanted him to suddenly start to grow again, and I said 'Over my dead body.' So they said, 'Well, let's test your ending.' And at the previews it went over so well, they agreed it was best to keep it. But I had something of a to-do with them at first, and I had to explain that this was not a film suited to a happy ending."
Now that is some auteur-ish behavior! Since It Came from Outer Space and The Creature from the Black Lagoon among Arnold's other films are very well done and of considerable interest, I think his entire output would merit a careful look. Probably someone is way ahead of me on that.
UPDATE (6/15/2009): In the same box set as Shrinking Man is another Grant Williams science fiction film, The Monolith Monsters. It's a nice effort in the gigantism genre, as the monsters aren't giant insects or shrews or gila monsters, but silicon-based rocks from a meteorite hit that swell to enormous stature when exposed to water! Definite points for originality. The setting is a California desert town; something about the desolation of Southwest desert landscapes, plus their shooting proximity to Hollywood, has led to all sorts of "monster" films being shot there -- The Andromeda Strain, Phase IV, Duel.
Grant plays a geologist in this movie and is as appealing as ever; he's one of those actors I have a permanent crush on. A glamor shot from his portfolio will probably make it clear why:
Breakfast is being served
3 years ago