The One That Worked
Watching “the worst movie ever made”
Plan 9 from Outer Space could have just been another B-movie from the 1950s, had it not been for Michael Medved crowning it “the worst movie ever made” in 1980. This garnered the movie a lot of publicity, and generated reams of analysis for and against the movie (including a callout on Seinfeld where Jerry is keen to watch the movie, but the gang decides to stop for dinner at a Chinese restaurant in the meanwhile).
Plan 9 from Outer Space is objectively a terrible movie, from start to finish. The plot itself is a mishmash of science fiction and vampire horror — aliens from another planet decide to come to Earth and raise an army of the undead to destroy it, all because they are worried about a doomsday weapon (the working of which is explained in copious pseudo-scientific detail at the end, with little or no regard for physics or plausibility). The actors are horrendously miscast, with most of them providing extremely wooden performance and monotonic dialogue delivery, oftentimes of repetitive, meaningless dialogue that states the obvious. The one true star in the movie — famed horror movie star Bela Lugosi — is not even really in the movie; he features from stock footage that the director, Ed Wood, had filmed for another vampire movie. It was only a minor hindrance to Wood that Lugosi passed away before the making of this film — the stock footage is mercilessly replayed at various moments (with no regard for continuity, as scenes switch from dark to light), and a stand-in who bears little resemblance (even in height and weight) to Lugosi plays the same part in other scenes, using a cape to hide his face from an unsuspecting audience. The only other performer who seems to have any enunciation and screen presence is the psychic (!) The Amazing Criswell who appears at the start of the movie and provides an (admittedly confusing and verbose) introduction, as well as dramatic narration, in the style of a television news presenter of the era.
The film is truly a low-budget endeavour — as Nicholas Barber wrote for the BBC, “The design budget seems to have amounted to $8.50, all of which was misspent.” Gravestones in the cemetery are visibly two-dimensional cardboard blocks, and flying saucers are literally saucers, complete with wires helping them levitate being left openly visible. Keeping with the budget constraints, most scenes were filmed in a single take, irrespective of the continuity errors or actor mistakes — after all, film equipment and the time of performers was expensive.
Much of this chaos tracks back to the director Ed Wood, who was later memorialized in the Tim Burton biopic Ed Wood, with Johnny Depp playing the titular role (if you have not yet read about Wood’s tormented life, or watched the movie — do so). Wood was a man with an uncompromising vision, but did not have the budget or support to make the most of that. Having been shunned by most major studios and production houses, Wood was left to work on the fringes with stars including a washed-up Lugosi — who was a depressed addict at this time, Tor Johnson — a Swedish wrestler looking for an acting break, and Lyle Talbot — an actor who claimed to “never turn down any acting job.” Even his production staff was entirely outsiders, and the film reflects this. The thin budget for the movie was provided by a church, under the condition that the staff should be baptized.
However, the flip side of this is that the film is truly a labour of love, from a director that genuinely loved cinema and had grandiose visions — visions that he felt no one else understood or appreciated. Despite this lack of support, Wood never gave up on his dream — eventually creating a work of “art” that he is remembered by to this day. Watching the film reflects this — and leads to the question, how many creators had to give up on their dream, or face abysmal failure without the cult-like following that Plan 9 has, all due to a lack of support?
The film also is very much a product of its era — the anti-war commentary reflects the growing terror of the arms race at the start of the Cold War, and the rapid scientific progress in weapons of mass destruction. The science-fiction and horror elements are in line with films of the era, when vampires and ghouls were still in vogue, and aliens were expected to invade. The film also features several common Hollywood tropes — including a family caught in the alien invasion and forced to step up to save their home, governments trying to hush up conspiracies despite concern from their own officials, vampires in the style of Dracula and the Addams Family, and incompetent policemen. These elements lend the movie an air of respectability and likeability, a seam of seriousness that makes the inept execution seem hilarious yet charming.
Time has been especially kind to Plan 9, with the poor quality of special effects now seeming almost like a product of the era, and not necessarily something that was inferior in budget and execution even when compared to its peers. There is no deep meaning or hidden artistic subversions as some modern scholars have theorized — but the movie remains a loveable watch, and one that reminds us of the magic that the movies bring to so many who are involved in making them, and the charm old movies retain even in this era.
