a surrealist masterpiece (?) : Plan 9 From Outer Space (1959)

 

   Plan 9 from outer space. [videorecording (DVD)]. Chatsworth, CA: Image Entertainment, 2000. Producer, director, writer, Edward D. Wood, Jr. Originally released as a motion picture in 1959. Director of photography, William C. Thompson; editor, Edward D. Wood., Jr.; music supervisor, Gordon Zahler. With: documentary, Flying saucers over Hollywood: the Plan 9 companion.
   Performers: Bela Lugosi, Gregory Walcott, Vampira, Tor Johnson, Conrad Brooks, Paul Marco, Norma McCarty Wood, Dudley Manlove, Bunny Breckenridge, Criswell, Lyle Talbot. Summary: Plan 9 follows the alien-led zombie invasion as the aliens attempt, for the 9th time, to take over Earth.

"Greetings, my friend. We are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives. And remember, my friend, future events such as these will affect you in the future."

 Can you prove it didn’t happen?

     

     Plan 9 From Outer Space may or may not be the worst movie of all time, but the case might  be made that its enduring classic status is due in part because so many things are right with it: atmosphere, colorful characters, good casting, humor. Say what you will about Plan 9, it's seldom dull, and not conspicuously inferior to comparable low budget fare of the era. Mostly, and for all its technical flaws, it's just a wonderfully entertaining movie and a showcase for some headliners of the day. Moreover, it's a revealing window into 1950s sensibilities.

    Plan 9’s production history and subsequent evolution from little known curiosity to its anointing as the worst film ever has been much discussed online and elsewhere, thus I’ll skip over these aspects and get right to it: is Plan 9 a masterpiece? Well, perhaps. I’m tempted to say one of the reasons Plan 9 is held in such affection is not because it’s so bad but because it’s so good. At the very least, I agree with the sentiment these days that Plan 9 is anything but the worst movie ever made. Even its bad qualities have a certain method to the madness.

     I am not an expert on surreal films, so I can’t speak with any authority, academic or otherwise. However – the jarring cuts, jumps from day to night and back again, stock footage, and not-so-special special effects, to say nothing of the creepy graveyard scenes, can only be described as surrealistic [1]. Indeed, Plan 9 has such a bizarre incongruity we have to wonder what kind of intelligence created it.

     Moreover, there’s Plan 9’s (unintentional?) subversive elements, thus the connection to surrealism and its related movements – dada, pop, beat, expressionistic, absurdist, underground, lowbrow. These are almost by definition questioning, contrarian, shocking, anti-establishment, outrageous, bizarre, and Plan 9 ticks all the boxes.


Albuquerque's a nine o'clock town

     The great irony is that Ed Wood probably never heard of surrealism in films and was totally serious in the art-for-art’s sake earnestness he brought to his work. That doesn't lessen our enjoyment of the film; it adds to it. The very appeal of a camp classic is that it doesn’t set out to be, well, campy. As has been pointed out by devotees more devoted and better informed than I, had Wood intended to make a parody or comedy, or worse, possessed the financial resources for a bloated extravaganza, Plan 9 wouldn’t have anything close to the same magic. It’s the sheer nobility and good intentions of Wood and his collaborators, not the slipshod, dodgy content of the product, that make Plan 9 and his other films so compelling.

     And though it’s not been written up so much in the literature, one of the plot threads – aliens resurrect dead humans to scare the bejeezus out of stupid earthlings – obviously anticipates the contestably surreal and much more highly regarded Night of the Living Dead of a decade later. There are even hints of Plan 9 in the cult horror classic Carnival of Souls, a film with its own surreal elements. Lest we give Plan 9 too much credit, it works both ways: there are definite antecedents in films like The Day the Earth Stood Still and Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

One of the great existential injustices is that Wood never profited from Plan 9; he sold the rights to his landlord to pay for back rent he owed. The ultimate insult was Wood’s untimely death in 1978 at the age of 54, so he couldn’t even enjoy the classic status the film would attain only a couple of years later.

     But perhaps there is some divine justice, albeit ironic and long overdue, in this universe of ours, and it seems Ed Wood, schlockmeister supreme, the worst director of all time, has gotten in the last word, appropriately enough, from beyond the grave. Much beloved by fans and even some critics, Wood is today guaranteed cinema immortality, and thus, the reputation of Plan 9 only continues to … increase over time.

     As the most unlikely of auteurs, Ed Wood serves as an inspiration for us lesser lights and would-be auteurs, regardless of artistic medium, who have the drive to create something beautiful but lack the necessary talent to do so, at least in a conventional way. But then again, whatever Ed Wood may have been, it certainly wasn’t conventional.

    For Ed Wood was, yes, a genius, even if his genius was the kind that limited itself to the B picture, exploitation film, and surrealist fantasy. Wood's sui generis talent was born out of, and thrived, if that is the word, in the peculiar environment that was 1950s America. Such was the unique alchemy of Wood's vision that it couldn't transfer to different eras and contexts, though others have tried. 

    Even if the manifestation of his genius wasn't in the elegance of the final product but rather the creative ebullience and energy that allowed him near miracles of efficiency, i.e. to produce something of value from (practically) nothing, it does not diminish its accomplishment. In a word, there will never be another Ed Wood.

    [1] I’ve not seen Wood’s other opus maximus, Glen or Glenda, only snippets of it, but I understand it has its share of surreal touches as well. And recently I had the good fortune to catch Jail Bait, Wood's only venture into film noir. It's actually pretty good, in a Woodian sort of way.