Review of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) by M. K — 12 Jul 2009

One of the most immaculately directed horror films of all time, the first BODY SNATCHERS remake is so imbued with masterful dread and paranoia that it makes even a retractable phone chord seem menacing. It works on levels most spook stories can barely even fathom; every scene has some disturbing background element, and the establishment of the invasion slowly overtaking the city's populace is cunningly interwoven from the get-go--"snitch screams" can be heard in the distance in early establishing scenes, pursued loners ominously flee in the background, and the main characters are almost constantly being watched by others in the corner of the frame.

Out of all the Body Snatchers films, this is the one that truly milks the premise for all its nightmarish implications and bleak hopelessness. It also takes the much-touted "allegory" aspect of the story and actually does something with it. On its surface, the film is a satirical stab at all things goofy, glib and new age: plant music, Erik von Daniken, and pop psychology all get a good ribbing. The film is like a chronicle of the dying aims of the flower children, their hopes for peace, love and individuality eventually being consumed and eradicated by the culture they rail against. When one views BODY SNATCHERS '78 from this angle, it becomes the boldest of the films thematically: a terrifying lament about the inevitable defeat-by-absorption of rebellion, change and progress by the overwhelming, conservative status quo.

In addition to its thematic superiority, BODY SNATCHERS '78 also boasts one of the strongest ensemble casts out there: Donald Sutherland at his peak, Veronica Cartwright at her pre-ALIEN shrieking best, Leonard Nimoy putting a dark twist to his usual "logical" approach, and Jeff Goldblum playing vintage Jeff Goldblum (before he started beefing up at the gym), while Brooke Adams makes for a sympathetic protagonist and love interest. The avant-jazz score by Danny Zeitlen is unique and effective (the best of the four films), the cinematography dark, claustrophobic and brilliant, and the sound design is one of the best in cinema--the horrifying sounds for the transformations are wonderfully unnerving, the unsettling use of ambient crowd noise is textbook-worthy, and of course there is the unforgettable pod people shriek...

The legendary ending is one of those rare examples of a classic shocker twist that actually holds up decades later, due to its uncompromised bleakness. Of the four films, its the one that dares to commit to its own horror, and while many films have tried to copy it, with cheap results, it still haunts like no other.