January celebrates two notable dates in science-fiction history: “National Science Fiction Day” on January 2 to coincide with the birth of world renowned sci-fi writer Isaac Asimov, and 12 January being when Arthur C. Clarke’s HAL 9000 was created. Accordingly, I dedicate January to celebrating sci-fi in all its forms.

Quick Facts:
Following David Cronenberg’s celebrated body horror reinterpretation of George Langelaan’s 1957 short story, Mick Garris repeatedly tried to pen a sequel to the 1986 hit under incredible studio pressure. Chris Walas, who created the gruesome special effects for the first film, helmed the sequel, and Keanu Reeves reportedly turned down the lead role. Though The Fly II was widely criticised (despite its impressive effects) and a third film fell through, the story continued in a 2015 comic book.

The Review:
If you thought watching a nightmare sequence of Veronica “Ronnie” Quaife (Geena Davis) suffering a gruesome childbirth in the previous film was bad, The Fly II doubles down by depicting another, very real birth, which convinced Davis to skip the film. Despite everything, Ronnie (Saffron Henderson) opted not to have an abortion, presumably out of her love for the tragically doomed Doctor Seth Brundle (Jeff Goldblum) and also because the deceptive Anton Bartok (Lee Richardson) gave her some assurances about the birth. As Brundle worked for Bartok Industries, it makes sense that Bartok would claim the miraculous (if flawed) Telepods, but he reveals his true colours early on when he has Doctor Jainway (Ann Marie Lee) remove the distraught Stathis Borans (John Getz) from the birth and watches on dispassionately as Ronnie dies delivering a ghastly little larval sac containing her son, Martin. With his staff watching behind two-way mirrors, Bartok observes Martin’s rapid growth, the result of his father’s unique genetic malformation, which also sees his DNA contain dormant mutated cells. Young Martin (Matthew Moore) grows at an accelerated rate and boasts a photographic memory and advanced intellect, though he never sleeps and the staff quickly become exasperated with him. Bartok encourages Martin to think of his as his dad and has Dr. Jainway and Doctor Frank Shephard (Frank Turner) administer regular placebos to placate him while they monitor his development. Even as a youngster, Martin (Harley Cross) questions these shots, which are clearly haphazardly administered, and is infected by an insatiable yearning for knowledge and curiosity. Martin constructs a fun little helmet for himself that foreshadows his later fly form and reprograms his access to the Bartok laboratory as easily as he solves mazes.

While exploring, Martin befriends a Golden Retriever (Unknown) and shares his fears of dying comparatively young because of “Brundle’s Accelerated Growth Syndrome”. Martin also sees his father’s Telepods for the first time. However, while Seth solved the issue that caused the machines to rip living tissue inside out, the Telepods are damaged and they destroy everything sent through them. Despite the best efforts of Doctor Trimble (William Taylor) and the others, the Telepods are next to useless and Martin is horrified when his dog is reduced to a rabid, grotesque monster by the process. On his fifth birthday, the physically adult Martin (Eric Stoltz) finally gets his privacy when a seemingly remorseful Bartok gifts him a home off site and asks him to help with the Telepods. Though reluctant, Martin’s won over by a deleted scene of his father, who talks about how the Telepods “improved” him. While working late, Martin seemingly solves the problem on a whim, successfully teleporting a telephone, and excitedly searches for some organic material to test. He bumps into beautiful data filer Beth Logan (Daphne Zuniga) and is inspired to teleport her cactus, though is ashamed and embarrassed when the machine still struggles with organic matter. Luckily, Beth’s won over by Martin’s boyish looks and awkward charm and agrees to help with the problem. Martin finally feels a human connection after five years in a clinical environment, only to be taunted by Bartok’s depraved head of security, Scorby (Garry Chalk). Beth encourages Martin to come out of his shell and invites him to a party elsewhere in the office, where he overhears talk of a malformed creature kept under observation and is distraught to find it’s his dog. Heartbroken, Martin lashes out at Beth, assuming she knew of the animal, and mercifully puts his friend out of his misery in a truly heart wrenching scene.

After having grieving, Martin invites Beth back to the lab to apologise and impresses her by showing that he cracked the Telepods in very much the same way his father did: by admiring the “beauty of the process”. Relieved to make amends with Martin, and to be gifted a cute little kitten (Unknown), Beth takes their relationship to the next level (a somewhat questionable act considering Martin’s still technically five years old…) However, Martin’s puzzled when a wound from a routine injection gone wrong becomes alarmingly infected and explores options to cure his condition with the Telepods, discovering (much like his father) that he can substitute his mutated genes for healthy ones by sacrificing a life. While working, Martin’s confused when he suddenly can’t reach Beth and she’s transferred to another building. Thanks to his genius, Martin patches through to Beth’s boat house and is infuriated to learn that Bartok deceived him again and placed cameras in his home. Oddly, Scorby reveals this by handing Beth video footage of them having sex, something he really didn’t need to do but then The Fly II isn’t exactly subtle about how devious and evil its antagonists are. Dr. Jainway and Dr. Shephard are constantly scowling at Martin or talking down to him and Bartok openly discusses his plans to study Martin once his transformation kicks in, which happens at an alarming rate once Martin discovers the hidden cameras. Upon viewing footage (that shouldn’t technically exist) of his father’s deterioration, Martin confronts Bartok, hurt to see the man he loved as a father figure so cold-hearted and dispassionate about encouraging his transformation and using his unique genetic material (alongside the Telepods) to be at the forefront of a “new age” for the world.

Enraged, Martin showcases superhuman strength and speed as he flees the complex, his face noticeably growing tumours that are disappointingly second rate compared to the first film. After begging for Beth’s help, Martin seeks out Stathis, who has become a drunken, cantankerous, crippled recluse who vehemently refuses to help them and openly mocks Martin. When Martin forces his way into his home (an opulent abode I assume Bartok paid for to keep Stathis quiet), Martin learns of his father’s fate and adamantly refuses to utilise the Telepods to cure himself at the cost of another. Stathis begrudgingly sends the two on their way and, despite him experiencing bouts of despair, Martin’s demeanour turns to spite and arrogance as his condition worsens. As a natural born genetic anomaly, Martin’s transformation is far less ghastly than his father’s (though he still pops out his eyeball for some fun body horror) as he forms a cocoon, one Bartok gleefully watches over after Beth calls him in desperation. Bartok’s elation turns sour when Dr. Trimble reveals Martin boobytrapped the Telepods and things go even worse when “Martinfly” bursts from his cocoon and goes on a rampage. Bartok’s intentions couldn’t be more explicitly evil. While he talks of ending concepts like surgery with the Telepods and advancing science and medicine with the machines and Martinfly’s unique biology, it’s clear he’s primarily interested in profit and power. He visibly scoffs at Martin’s affection for him during their confrontation and thinks nothing of manipulating the boy-man into doing his dirty work, focused entirely on the big picture and willing to sacrifice anyone, even his closest supporters, to get what he wants.

While Martin’s physical transformation is nowhere near as gruelling or disturbing as Seth’s, with the make-up effects being more subtle and oddly incorporating webbing, his demeanour noticeably changes much like his father’s. Martin goes from rage to anguish to smugness across a few scenes, embracing his transformation even as Beth is horrified by it. It’s quite rushed as most of the film prior depicts Martin as an aloof and unique but otherwise healthy young man, so I think it might’ve been better to start his metamorphosis a bit sooner just to see how it changes him physically and emotionally. Martin forces a large cocoon to expediate his transformation and emerges not as a sickly, asymmetrical monster wracked with pain and struggling to survive but as a monstrous, four-armed brute at the peak of his strength. Martinfly is large, powerful, and quick, easily manhandling his prey, fleeing to the rafters, and navigating the facility’s ginormous ventilation shafts. Like his father, Martinfly retains a degree of intelligence, certainly enough to tell friend from foe and to drag Dr. Shephard’s dead body around to unsuccessfully use his key card. While the Martinfly puppet and animatronic are impressive, The Fly II abandons all the subtlety and emotional nuance of the last film to present a monster movie finale, with Martinfly strangling Dr. Shephard to death, breaking Scorby’s spine and tossing him like a sack of potatoes, and absolutely wrecking a poor, unassuming security guard (Pat Bermel) with his projectile “vomit drop”. The corrosive “fly vomit” melts this dude’s face to a screaming, steaming, skeletal mess (“Medical emergency”, indeed!) and leaves him shrieking on the floor as a barely breathing corpse. Another security guard (Andrew Rhodes) gets his head (and body) crushed by an elevator thanks to Martinfly, meaning The Fly II certainly focuses more on gore and a hefty body count by the finale.

Though he insists on capturing Martinfly alive for further study, Bartok’s not a complete fool. He has the Telepod lab sealed, keeps Beth as leverage, and orders Scorby and his men to cover every possible entrance. Naturally, Martinfly easily gets the drop on them and murders them in gleefully disturbing ways, pausing only to pet a dog (Unknown) and share a glance with the horrified Beth. While Beth showed some moxie when they first met and is a pretty face who offers Martin nothing but love and support, she’s easily overpowered by even Bartok when she wrestles with him over Scorby’s pistol and is basically here just to look good and scream when heads burst like water balloons. She has a touching romance with Martin but it’s a shadow of what Ronnie and Seth had in the first film. Martinfly dwarfs Brundefly, though, being a hulking, malicious monster driven to avenge himself on those who’ve wronged him and cure his condition. While Bartok threatens to shoot Beth and even blasts Martinfly a couple of times, the guy’s one monologue away from being a moustache-twirling James Bond villain and completely underestimates Martinfly’s durability and cunning. Martinfly grabs Bartock, forces him to input the Telepod code (fittingly enough, “DAD”), and muscles him into a Telepod, encouraging Beth to initiate his gene-swapping program. Despite Bartok’s protestations, Beth complies just as Bartok’s back-up arrives, successfully achieving what Seth couldn’t and swapping Bartok’s healthy genes for Martinfly’s mutated ones. This sees Bartok reduced to a misshapen, maggot-like mess and Martin fully restored (if covered in disgusting goop). Fittingly, the Bartok-Thing is placed into the same dungeon as Martin’s dog and left to endure an agonised existence as another failed experiment of the Telepods.

Final Thoughts:
I feel like I’ve ragged on The Fly II a bit more than I intended. It’s not as good as the last film, that’s for sure, but I think it’s better than many realise. Much of the plot is essentially the same, with a genius scientist struggling with a genetic abnormality trying to perfect teleportation, embarking on a romance along the way and transforming into a hideous creature by the end. However, The Fly II is definitely much more of a monster movie, especially in the finale, and has little of the same disturbing subtext of the last film. I guess it could be read as an AIDS allegory as Martin suffers for the sins of his father much like someone who’s HIV positive, but much of this subtlety is swept aside in favour of a deception so obvious it’s almost explicit and some delicious gore. Eric Stoltz does his best, portraying Martin as brilliant but shy and awkward, but pales in comparison to Jeff Goldblum and only really shines during his “I’m getting stronger!” speech. I majorly crushed on Daphne Zuniga as a kid and she’s still gorgeous now, but there’s not much for Beth to do here, meaning the villains steal the show with their smarmy, conceited, and unashamedly evil depictions. The late Lee Richardson seems to be relishing the role, tackling it was a theatrical glee that makes Bartok a truly despicable character. While I found Martin’s transformation lacklustre compared to the last film (the cocoon, especially, feels very cheap and rushed), I do have a soft spot for Martinfly. A powerful and nigh-unstoppable man/fly monster, Martinfly is the stuff of nightmares and yet seems more ungainly than Brundlefly as the creature is perhaps a bit overdesigned and veers too far into the monstrous. Still, The Fly II is a decent enough epilogue to the first film (if you can forgive the plot hole concerning Ronnie’s abortion) and has a lot of gruesome moments for gore fans even if it is a much weaker film overall that Cronenberg’s masterpiece.

My Rating:

Great Stuff

Do you also consider The Fly II to be under-rated and unfairly forgotten? Did you enjoy Eric Stoltz’s performance or do you agree that he struggled compared to Jeff Goldblum? Were the villains a bit too obvious and one-dimensional for you or did you like seeing them be unapologetically awful? Are you a fan of the monstrous Martinfly or do you think it was over designed? Would you like to see another film set in this continuity? How are you celebrating sci-fi this January? Leave a like and comment below with your feedback, check out my other sci-fi reviews, and donate to my Ko-Fi to suggest other sci-fi movies for me to the site.

January celebrates two notable dates in science-fiction history: “National Science Fiction Day” on January 2 to coincide with the birth of world renowned sci-fi writer Isaac Asimov, and 12 January being when Arthur C. Clarke’s HAL 9000 was created. Accordingly, I dedicate January to celebrating sci-fi in all its forms.

Quick Facts:
Following the surprising success of Kurt Neumann’s ambitious 1958 adaptation of George Langelaan’s 1957 short story, the studio rushed a sequel into production with a lower budget and shooting in outdated black-and-white. $25,000 of the budget went to returning actor Vincent Price, potentially affecting the revised practical effects, though the barely related follow-up was deemed to be far worse overall.

The Review:
Return of the Fly immediately loses points by being filmed in black-and-white. While I have nothing against a good, grainy, black-and-white horror flick, this was the age of Technicolor, where black-and-white was not only a step backwards but almost an insult, especially as the first film was in colour, so Return of the Fly looks cheap and dated as a result. The film opens with Hélène Delambre (formally Patricia Owens) dead, apparently so haunted by the ghastly accident that cost her ambitious husband, scientist André Delambre (formally David “Al” Hedison) his life, that she was consumed by anguish. André’s devoted brother, François Delambre (Vincent Price), is especially heartbroken as he’d harboured a deep love for Hélène and stepped in to help raise her son, Philippe Delambre (Brett Halsey), as a surrogate father (and potentially married Hélène following André’s death). Alongside the sadly absent Inspector Charas (formally Herbert Marshall), who’s replaced by Inspector Beecham (John Sutton), François covered up the gruesome truth of André’s final days, which have long concerned the now-adult Philippe. Desperate for answers, Philippe begs François to tell him what happened and he reluctantly relates how André, consumed by scientific passion and curiosity, accidentally transformed himself into a bizarre human fly using his “Disintegrator-Integrator”, a potentially world-changing invention left in shambles after André destroyed it to avoid others suffering his fate. Intrigued by his father’s work and seeking to vindicate him, having become a keen scientist himself, Philippe vows to rebuild the machine and perfect his father’s dream, though François strongly advises against it and even refuses to bankroll him with what’s left of the Delambre wealth, believing André meddled in things man should leave alone.

Undeterred, Philippe returns to his childhood home alongside his friend, Alan Hinds (David Frankham), who agrees to assist him and even waves off a salary to be part of the project and co-own it once they’ve changed the world. Both are quite taken by Philippe’s beautiful childhood friend, Cecile Bonnard (Danielle De Metz), who’s largely just here to be a pretty face, scream when she sees something awful, and babble in French about their childhood. Philippe and Alan quickly rebuild the Disintegrator-Integrator and successfully test it on inanimate objects. They also program it to “store” disintegrated objects to be reintegrated later (apparently a workaround for them only having one chamber), though they encounter a bizarre defect where the machine enlarges living organisms. It doesn’t take long for François to discover their progress and be coerced into aiding them, financially and with his knowledge, to keep Philippe from selling his half of the family company for additional funds (though François continues to oppose the project). Although disheartened that he effectively has to threaten his beloved uncle and encouraged by their progress, Philippe has no idea that Alan is secretly Ronald Holmes, an industrial spy looking to sell the secrets of the Disintegrator-Integrator to the unscrupulous Max Barthold (Dan Seymour) for an even greater profit. Having fled England for crimes so terrible he would be hanged if caught, Alan frantically overpowers Inspector Evans (Pat O’Hara) and sends him through the machine, only to produce a dead body with the hands and feet of a guinea pig and a guinea pig with human hands! After killing the animal and disposing of the body with Max’s help, Alan’s confronted by Philippe, who becomes concerned by his friend’s suspicious nature, only to be easily forced into the machine at gun point alongside a fly, which Alan spitefully tosses in with Philippe since he knows he’s deathly afraid of the insects.

François arrives too late to help, taking a surprisingly non-fatal bullet to the gut and collapsing upon seeing Philippe emerge as a grotesque human/fly hybrid (Ed Wolff) with an enlarged and disappointingly comical head, stumpy fly leg, and claw-like arm. Like before, Philippe’s head is transposed onto the tiny fly, which buzzes around the laboratory begging for help before being captured (rather roughly) by Inspector Beecham so they can restore Philippe. Unfortunately, the fly-headed Philippe flees into the night and the police struggle to find him; they even threaten to kill him if he won’t come peacefully. Somehow, the fly-Philippe knows to head to Max’s funeral parlour and throttles him with his augmented strength. Conveniently, Alan shows up shortly after and gets his neck brutally crushed by the fly creature. When François hears of this, he worries that his nephew has already been consumed by the “murderous brain of the fly!” but Philippe apparently has enough of his humanity left to stumble home and collapse in Cecile’s bedroom. Despite still being injured, François helps Inspector Beecham get the fly-Philippe and his insect counterpart into the Disintegrator-Integrator and successfully restores his nephew, sparing him the same fate as his father. While I cut The Fly a lot of slack, it’s difficult to do the same for its sequel, primarily because the enlarged fly head looks so goofy. It’s technically impressive, I guess, but it’s too big and cartoony and makes it too obvious that it’s just a man in an uncomfortable headpiece. Return of the Fly has a higher body count than the first film, which is nice, but Philippe isn’t as interesting as his father. He lacks André’s boundless charisma and enthusiasm and his desire to recreate his father’s work seems paper thin, at best. It might’ve been better if it was Alan pushing Philippe to do this and if Philippe was somewhat reluctant. I also don’t get why the filmmakers didn’t just recast Inspector Charas or bring back Herbert Marshall as Inspector Beecham fulfilled essentially the same role and it was weird seeing a third party be aware of the awful fly experiment.

Final Thoughts:
While it has some flaws and has largely been surpassed by the 1986 remake, The Fly was still a fun, classic sci-fi film and a stirring cautionary tale about the mysteries of science. Return of the Fly hits many of the same story beats as its predecessor, focusing on a budding scientist seeking to make a historic breakthrough and being undone by that same technology, but Philippe wants to vindicate his father by completing his work; the benefits to humanity are merely a bonus. While Cecile is a pretty face, she and Philippe lack the same loving (if corny) relationship as his parents; indeed, they are never explicitly stated to be a couple by the end. Return of the Fly focuses more on the devious Alan, who plots to steal the Disintegrator-Integrator and is willing to kill for a profit. Having befriended Philippe, Alan knows how best to spite him and is perfectly positioned to manipulate him, a faulty plot point considering he stood to greatly profit from Philippe’s work. Vincent Price tries his best to elevate the material, but he doesn’t get much to work with and the effects are laughable compared to the last film (which didn’t exactly set a high bar!) Return of the Fly devolves into a simple monster movie when the fly-Philippe goes on a rampage, one that makes little sense as I have no idea how it knew to target Max and it’s still odd that the transformed people retain their intellect. You’re not missing much if you skip Return of the Fly, but I guess it’s an interesting coda for those who wanted to see more after watching the first film, but I’d be lying if I said it was a worthy follow-up.

My Rating:

Could Be Better

Were you also disappointed by Return of the Fly or do you think it’s surprisingly good? Did you also think the enlarged fly head looked too goofy to be horrifying? Do you think the film wasted Vincent Price’s talents and agree that Philippe wasn’t as interesting as his father? Were you disappointed that so much of the film focused on Alan’s nefarious scheme? Would you like to see a new adaptation of The Fly and how are you celebrating the sci-fi genre today? Leave a like and comment below with your thoughts, check out my other sci-fi reviews, and donate to my Ko-Fi to suggest other sci-fi movies for the site.

January celebrates two notable dates in science-fiction history: “National Science Fiction Day” on January 2 to coincide with the birth of world renowned sci-fi writer Isaac Asimov, and 12 January being when Arthur C. Clarke’s HAL 9000 was created. Accordingly, I dedicate January to celebrating sci-fi in all its forms.

Quick Facts:
A relatively faithful adaptation of George Langelaan’s 1957 short story, The Fly saw star David Hedison struggle with the ambitious and surprisingly terrifying practical effects as much as co-star Vincent Price struggled with the film’s iconic final moments. Regarded as a sci-fi classic, The Fly spawned a couple of sequels and a widely praised remake in 1986.

The Review:
Set in Montreal, Quebec, The Fly opens with all the major action having already taken place and aspiring scientist André Delambre (Al Hedison) crushed by a hydraulic press at his family factory. His equally wealthy brother, François Delambre (Vincent Price), is shocked by this but knocked for a loop when André’s beautiful wife, Hélène Delambre (Patricia Owens), confesses to killing her husband. Stoic and apparently remorseless, Hélène openly admits to the act, refusing to paint herself as a “murderess” as André willingly placed himself under the hydraulic press but confessing to activating the machine twice to crush his head and arm. Having adored his brother, his curious young nephew, Philippe Delambre (Charles Herbert), and having secretly been in love with Hélène for years, François is desperate to know why she’s saying such awful things and to get to the truth of the matter. François aids Inspector Charas (Herbert Marshall) in this endeavour, eager to understand why Hélène is so desperate to find and kill a white-headed fly. As Hélène faces either hanging for murder or being committed to an asylum on the grounds of insanity, François pretends to have captured the fly and threatens to give it to Inspector Charas unless Hélène tells the truth. This breaks Hélène’s crazed demeanour and she reveals she’s been pretending to be mad to protect Philippe. Assuming that François has seen the truth of the fly he’s supposedly caught, Hélène agrees to tell him and Inspector Charas the whole story, meaning most of The Fly is framed as flashback to a couple of months ago, when the Delambres’ were a healthy and happy family very much in love and enjoying the opulence of their home.

Back then, the charming André was a loving, if reclusive, scientist who spent days in his basement laboratory working away but always greeted his wife and son with a smile. One day, André bounded from his lab and eagerly brought Hélène to witness his latest, greatest creation: the “Disintegrator-Integrator”. Hélène watches in amazement as André’s machine teleports a plate from one glass chamber to another and shares his elation in the potential applications of the machine, which promises to solve world hunger and change concepts of transport. Unfortunately, André’s delight quickly turns sour when Hélène discovers the reintegrated objects are not perfect duplicates, so André immediately returns to work, shunning his family for several days before he solves the problem. Once satisfied that the flaw’s been corrected, André moves to live animal testing by transporting the family cat, Dandelo (Unknown). However, Dandelo mysteriously fails to reintegrate (possibly because she was transported alongside a saucer of milk) and is apparently reduced to atoms, with only her disembodied cries echoing throughout the lab. Grieved by this mishap, the cause of which he never discovers, André returns to work on his machine and finally re-emerges to demonstrate the revised Disintegrator-Integrator to Hélène, now able to teleport living objects and allowing her to care for a reintegrated guinea pig to atone for Dandelo. Though eager to celebrate his breakthrough, André hesitates to inform the wider scientific community as even he doesn’t fully understand his machine, though he excitedly requests that Hélène bring François to witness the fruits of his labour and bask in what promises to be a world-changing creation. However, when François arrives, he and Hélène are disappointed to find a badly written note taped to the door of André’s lab asking them to stay away. Assuming André has lost himself in his project once more, the two leave him to it, only for André to remain in the lab for several days.

Concerned, Hélène goes to check on him and finds him hiding his face behind a black cloth and keeping his left hand obscured. Though unable to speak, André converses through written and typed notes and by banging once for “yes” and twice for “no”, forcing Hélène to turn her back as he slurps his food and revealing that he experienced a horrible accident when he transported himself through the Disintegrator-Integrator. A common housefly got into the chamber with him and mixed up their DNA, leaving André with a deformed, fly-like hand and head and the fly with a human head and arm. Strangely, André retains his logic and reason but, knowing it’s only a matter of time before he loses his humanity, he orders Hélène to find the white-headed fly. Hélène spends a couple of days frantically searching all over for the fly, aided by her eager son and confusing their housemaid, Emma (Kathleen Freeman), who somehow misinterprets Hélène’s clear instructions to capture the fly and goes around swatting them. Determined to help her husband, Hélène repeatedly tries to corral the fly and is constantly met with failure: it slips out of Philippe’s net and eventually escapes into the garden, presumably acting as a fly would and slowly having its instincts overridden by André’s consciousness just as André becomes increasingly animalistic. Indeed, the frustration at his wife’s failure only exacerbates André’s condition. He struggles to type and write and keep his thoughts straight and warns that he will have to “destroy himself” if the fly isn’t found. Refusing to accept this, Hélène desperately begs André to try transporting himself again, confident that this will undo the damage, only to be left a shrieking, horrified wreck when she whips off André’s cloth and witnesses his gruesome fly head!

While quaint by today’s standards, this practical effect is surprisingly shocking. It twitches and moves like a fly’s proboscis and effectively transforms the beautifully handsome Hedison into a tragically monstrous figure. This is further emphasised by how hard André fights the animalistic urges of his fly genes; he struggles to keep his fly arm from harming Hélène, and this same limb actively fights against him when he destroys his lab in despair. Realising that he’s meddled in forces beyond human understanding and wishing to destroy all evidence of his experiment, André uses what little humanity he has left to ransack his lab and scrawls a final declaration of love and plea for help on his chalkboard. Thus, Hélène helps her husband to the hydraulic press and, following his instructions, activates the machine to crush his fly parts into indistinguishable mush (though not before his fly arm tries to bring her under with him!) Though amazed by Hélène’s story, Inspector Charas begrudgingly returns with a warrant and the men in white coats to take her to the nut house. While he’s also sceptical, François is desperate to save Hélène and frantically alerts Inspector Charas to a white-headed fly Philippe found caught in a spider-web in the garden. Dubious, Inspector Charas entertains François’s plea one last time, taking no pleasure in causing him pain, and is appalled when he sees the fly has André’s head! Inspector Charas and François watch in horror as a spider advances on the half-human fly as André screams for help. Unable to stand the screaming, Inspector Charas crushes both and François immediately condemns him as being as guilty of murder as Hélène. Shocked by the whole ordeal, Inspector Charas reluctantly agrees to François’s suggestion that André committed suicide, sparing Hélène from death and the asylum. Some time later, Hélène and Philippe return to normal, with François now much closer to them, and François sadly tells Philippe that his father died in a reckless search for the “truth”.

Final Thoughts:
Although I grew up with the 1986 remake, I’ve always had a fondness for the 1958 adaptation of the The Fly, which I read and wrote about at university. Aside from a few changes, this is surprisingly faithful to the original short story and certainly one of the more ambitious sci-fi efforts of the late-1950s. Although some of the dialogue is a bit clunky and André and Hélène’s relationship is sickeningly sweet, André has an enthusiastic and affable charm about him thanks to the charismatic David Hedison, who adeptly captures André’s despair and torment after his horrific accident. Vincent Price brings his peerless authenticity to the film, perfectly portraying François as a lovestruck, tormented man trying to do his best by Hélène while struggling to comprehend her fantastical tale. Philippe was kind of annoying but did his best to be helpful, while Patricia Owens did a fine job carrying the bulk of the drama, portraying Hélène as a devoted wife desperate to help her husband. The Fly does a great job of building tension to the big reveal, giving glimpses of André’s malformed hand and depicting his obvious desperation and struggle to maintain his humanity. Sure, the fly head might be quite laughable by today’s standards but that reveal scene is an iconic moment in sci-fi cinema and has immortalised the film as much as the infamous ending. Again, the fly-André’s anguished cries of “Help me! He-ll-p me-e!” might be absurd, but it’s played so straight and so horrific that I can’t help but get shivers as that painfully fake spider devours him. While The Fly was completely outshined by its remake, it’s still a classic sci-fi morality tale of the dangers of science and a surprisingly effective exploration of madness and devotion, to say nothing of having some memorable moments that make it a truly timeless experience.

My Rating:

Pretty Good

Did you enjoy this sci-fi classic? Did you like how accurate it was to the book? Were you won over by the seemingly perfect life shared by André and Hélène? Did you like the build up towards the big reveal or did the endless chasing for the fly get on your nerves? Were you impressed with the practical effects or do you think they’ve aged badly? Would you like to see another adaptation that was as closely tied to Langelaan’s book? How are you celebrating sci-fi this January? Like this review and leave a comment below, check out my other sci-fi reviews, and donate to my Ko-Fi to suggest other sci-fi movies for me to cover.