Devil Got My Martian

DEVIL GIRL FROM MARS (1954; director: David Macdonald)

Every new generation of film history buffs eventually ask themselves the same question: Is Devil Girl From Mars anywhere near as good as its title?

The answer is no, it isn’t. It’s British and they didn’t make many cool sci-fi movies in the 1950s until the Quatarmass series. There’s a whisper of atomic fear and a hare-brained plot that brings plenty of camp, but this film wants to be a MELODRAMA. It drags. The setting is a Scottish inn filled with stock soap opera characters, from a misunderstood criminal, the woman who’s in love with him, the beleaguered business owner, a lonely barfly (who only drinks tomato juice!) and an alcoholic reporter who finds romance in the middle of an assignment. And these people all can go make toast in their bathtubs for all we care about them.

We get an opening fifteen minutes that are heavy on the talk and light on the writing when a UFO thankfully lands and gives us a break. It’s a pretty good effect, too. Then the alien steps out and she’s even more impressive. It’s Patricia Laffan as the iconic Nyah, she of the chiseled bone structure, stone face and a costume straight from the palace of Ming the Merciless. She comes from Mars, which is ruled by women. Somehow the result of that is a severe shortage of men and, thus, a population problem. That’s why she’s on Earth. She’s collecting suitable sperm dispensers to take back home. Mars needs men.

She’s having a hard time getting anyone to join, though. Probably because she has the personality of an overdraft notice. Only the most dedicated submissives will take interest.

You see this movie only so you can say that you saw it.

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