MONSTER ON THE LOOSE Sam Slade didn't believe in Gorgo until he saw the monster's hideous scaly face, its slimy green talons and the massive mouth that could swallow a killer whale. Sam didn't believe in love, either, until he met virginal Moira McCartin and helped her to discover the deep passions slumbering within her. Moira taught him to love and Gorgo taught him to fear. Spewn from some sub-oceanic cavern, the monster catapulted from the sea, threatening death for all who challenged it. Captured, it presented even more of a problem, for deep in the bowels of the sea was a larger, more vicious monster, even now rising from the depths to rescue its offspring and to destroy everything in its path: battleships, tanks and half of London!
What a surprise! I certainly did not expect this novel to be as racy, gritty, and brutal as it is! I thought it was simply going to be a brainless and cozy little novelization of a fairly memorable giant monster flick from the 1960's. Like the novels of the first two Godzilla films, "Gorgo" was released practically simultaneously with the eponymous 1961 film. But unlike the Godzilla novels, this one was not written for kids.
If I were to rank all kaiju of cinema and television (a daunting task), Gorgo would fall squarely in the middle. It's a fun enough romp with some amazing special effects for the time, even if it is a bit derivative of King Kong. Anyone interested in reading this book will likely already be a fan of the movie, so it's no spoiler to say that it is about a big sea monster captured and put on display at a London circus for profit, only for it to be discovered that a much BIGGER parent monster is on its way to retrieve its kidnapped offspring. To again make a comparison to the original "Gojira," the film has a lot to say about the folly of humanity, though instead of the nuclear threat, the focus is on imperialist and capitalist attitudes here. Unlike the Japanese masterpiece, "Gorgo" is much more upbeat and kid-friendly, inspiring the Gamera films which would fully realize the appeal of kaiju chaos to the younger demographic just four years later. The director purposefully made this creative choice based on the reaction his previous movie, "The Giant Behemoth," garnered from his young daughter, who was upset that the monster died at the end. So there's certainly no sex in "Gorgo," and the violence is largely off screen or limited to crumbling model cities.
As a result, I didn't expect the novel to be as sleazy and gory as it turned out to be. We've got human viscera spilled open on deck, and a lot of breast obsession and sexual assault posing as romance. What audience was this written for? If the film was meant to thrill young children, why wouldn't the publisher tied to the production also not think it would be kids who would want to fork out their meager savings for a copy of a Gorgo book? Perhaps the author had been led to believe the story would make a good teenage date movie, and I'm sure it was, but the bottom line is that the novel is written almost like a noir, tackles some very adult themes, and throws in some T 'n' A and blood 'n' guts.
There are no particular "heroes" to speak of. The narration is from the perspective of one of the male leads, Sam, and I suppose we are meant to sympathize with him, but he really is a nasty person. A military veteran, hardended mostly by a cuckolding ex-fiance than by being a held as a prisoner of war during Korea, Sam scrounges for a living as a gunrunner and salvager with his skipper business partner, Joe. Their ship is damaged by tidal waves resulting from freak volcanic activity, and they are forced to make repairs in a small Irish port. There they encounter a fiery young redhead vixen and an amphibious creature from ancient Celtic legend that rocks their already teetering boat greater than any storm.
When I say the characters are unlikeable, I mean it. There is a flashback to something that Sam did when he found out his girlfriend had been cheating on him that does not score him any points as a mensch, and leaves the reader wanting to shower with bleach. He and Joe are supposed to be friends, but they try to double-cross and kick the shit out of each other throughout the whole novel. Joe is a selfish, controlling, and violent sociopath. But they are not the only characters that leave a bad taste in your mouth. Everyone is foul-tempered or untrustworthy. The only character that is meant to be innocent and endearing is the boy Sean, who is one of the lesser annoying child characters I've encountered in pulp. Here he is the son of a rageaholic scientist, whereas he is an orphan in the film, serving as the human counterpart to the baby Gorgo as well as the child audience surrogate, looking upon the monster with both fear and sympathy, rather than as something to exploit or a threat to destroy. But he's overall not very important to the novel, and so we're forced to follow these two embodiments of toxic masculinity through 300 pages.
Still, there was something kind of intriguing about the whole thing. The author at least made an attempt to bring some personality and backstory to the characters, even if they are a bit too hard-boiled. For people who like their Dashiell Hammett as much as their creature features, this might appeal.
And the monster action was pretty epic. The beasts are portrayed as much more dynamic, animalistic, and realistic--much more so than was able to be portrayed by a man in a rubber suit. The pacing was solid. Where the film glosses over some minor plot elements with some questionable editing, the narrative here flows nicely without getting bogged down. For those of you who may have noticed that the film version also has no female performers, the novel makes up for it with a love interest for Sam, though as I've said, the romance is as awkward as it is steamy to say the least.
So what we have here is an adult pulp sci-fi horror adventure that serves as a surprisingly competent literary adaptation of a British Godzilla knockoff. It's a little rough to get through in spots, but the dark themes and edgy characters make it less accessible while more engaging than it otherwise could have been as a cheesy word-for-word copy of the film. Pair this with an extensive and knowledgeable prologue about the production history of the film, and you've got a delight for grown-up old farts who still love the movies that dazzled them as kids in front of the cathode ray tube. I think I like it.
It was 1961. I was ten. My greatest desire was to see the movie 'Gorgo' which had recently been released with a novel tie-in and much fanfare. My desire to see this movie was even greater than the wish to see the latest Three Stooges movie. Mom and Dad objected. They took me to movies sometimes, but they were either grownup movies shown at a drive-in, movies that often made me fall asleep in the back of our Hillman Huskey, or Disney movies with adults like Fred McMurray acting silly. I was sick of them. I wanted the real thing: monsters, army men, big explosions, destruction. I begged, I pleaded, I cried. They said it was too violent (but that was the point!). I threw a tantrum or two. That, the constant, annoying, grinding pressure supplemented by raging tantrums, worked. I got to see 'Gorgo' over at the big theatre in Elgin and it was pretty good, especially with the army men doing all the shooting with canons and tanks and stuff and all the buildings falling down. There was some other stuff, too, some love stuff, especially in the book, but the bombs made up for it.