Made In Britain: Quatermass And The Pit Review
A group of archaeologists uncover evidence that, millions of years ago, Earth was colonised by aliens who gifted us their DNA in order to speed up our evolution. Disturbing their final resting place could lead to our annihilation, even though we have the technology to do things like read people’s dreams. No, it’s not Prometheus – it’s the last entry in the Made in Britain series, Hammer Studio’s 1967 effort Quatermass and the Pit. (Details: http://press.optimumreleasing.net/press/?id=1554)
Made on a tiny budget of about £275,000 (around £400,000 trillion in today’s money), Quatermass is a surprisingly effective bit of nonsense that tries to answer one of life’s great questions: What if humans are the result of genetic engineering by Martian cockroaches? There is much to love about the special effects, especially the sequence in which the “suggestible mind” of Barbara Shelley is used to channel memories of an apocalypse in a Martian roach colony. Those little bug guys were adorable! Rather more successful is the Martian craft itself, unearthed during extensions to the London Underground network, and the genuinely creepy reconstruction of the “ape man” head, modelled on one of the many human-like skulls found around it. Alas, disturbing this tomb awakens an energy that causes Londoners to experience uncontrollable homicidal urges and soon the streets are ablaze. This is obviously a perfect training video for commuting during the Olympics.
As is so typical of a Hammer production, the cast and director are light years ahead of their material. They manage to root the whole preposterous premise in a very real climate of post-War, Communist-fearing dread and unease. Were this an American film in the vein of Independence Day the defeating of the alien energy would result in jubilation and back-slapping. Instead, Quatermass ends on a decidedly downbeat note, with our eponymous hero looking dismayed by the sight of a newly rebuilt London once again in ruins, and the lovely Barbara slumped dejectedly in the rubble and mourning the loss of her boss, the heroically self-sacrificing Dr Roney. She and Quatermass are unable to even look at each other, and that’s the point at which director Roy Ward Baker chooses to roll the credits.
While it was critically panned on its release, the years have been kind to Quatermass and a generation enamoured of the new Dr Who oughta dig it. This is a worthy, though oddly pessimistic, note on which to end Made in Britain.
Clare Moody