STARRING: Eric McCormack, Jenni Baird, Dan
Lauria, Robert Patrick, Jody Thompson, Aaron Brooks, Sarah Smyth, Andrew Dunbar,
Sage Brocklebank, Tom McBeath, Vincent Gale, Jerry Wasserman, Jonathan Young,
Michael Roberds
2009, 85 Minutes, Directed by:
R.W. Goodwin
I
hate to mention it out of respect to the producers of Alien Trespass, but
the 1950?s sci-fi lampoon genre was bled dry by the astoundingly unfunny 2004
picture, The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra. Thankfully, Trespass, while
wading dangerously in toxic self-aware waters, heads the opposite direction,
imagining a B-level monster outbreak movie as a real artifact from the bygone
era. The patience and concentration of the film to not wink itself into a coma
is amazing to behold, and I was flabbergasted over just how engrossing and
playful the picture is. The exterior promises another punishing Cadavra
headache, but the feature is quite skillful and inventive. And most importantly,
it's not entirely camp.
When a flying saucer hits a
small Californian mountain town, the local police (including Dan Lauria and
Robert Patrick) attempt to squelch rumors and proper investigation by forbidding
the community to approach the ship. However, resident astronomer Ted Lewis (Eric
McCormack) finds his way inside, only to have his body inhabited by interstellar
hunter Urp. Returning to town, Urp exhibits strange alien behavior while
tracking the Ghota, rubbery one-eyed creatures that have come to Earth to
destroy all humans. While the town panics, Urp teams up with waitress Tammy (Jenni
Baird) to capture the dangerous Ghota and blast them into space where they
belong.
"Whisks one back to a time when a guy in a rubber suit was the
height of terror . . ."
Alien Trespass opens
with faux newsreel footage from 1957, immediately setting forth the hope that
director R.W. Goodwin (a vet of television productions) might be able to grab
the audience and make them believe in the giddy spirit at the core of what he's
about to manufacture. There's no Ed Wood-style bad
movie parade or insipid self-congratulations here: Goodwin wants to recreate the
square vibe of a 50s alien invasion chiller. Barring the presence of modern
technology during the saucer sequences and unavoidably glossy cinematography, he
achieves his goal with style and charm, making Trespass more of a
valentine than a smirking mockery.
Goodwin's dedication rewards
the viewer with traditional monster movie escapism, generously dishing up a
retro feel to Trespass that pays splendid homage to the creepers and chillers of
yesteryear. The filmmaker truly believes in what he's making and is not just
playing the concept for cheap, dull jokes. It's an achievement worth celebrating
in today's ironic times, and I appreciated the effort. That's not to suggest
Trespass is a dour motion picture; in fact, it's quite lively, liberally
deploying small town cop and dim-witted civilian archetypes within a low-budget
movie setting, leaving room to play with, not underline, artificial locations,
limited photography, and stiff acting. Trespass remains a good-humored
romp because of the affection, whisking the viewer back to a day when a guy in a
rubber suit was the height of terror, and the only thing more heinous to an
adult than a body-melting monster was a teenager in full greaser attire.
Credit must be paid to the
ensemble of Trespass, who turn in fantastic work blending era-specific
theatricality with straight-faced commitment. Noted ham McCormack is perhaps the
strongest element here, deftly working his nerdy, pipe-sucking routine as Ted
while his robot monotone wins as Urp. There's not a single point in the film
where any of the actors shatter Goodwin's spell. The cast remains committed to
the concept, and the filmmaking encourages their efforts.
After being burned so
thoroughly by Cadavra, the thought of another 50s B-movie recreation
carnival brought me nothing but absolute dread. Mercifully, Alien Trespass
is a delightful experience, lovingly made by clever individuals who know how to
throttle their enthusiasm creatively, not obnoxiously.