The Evolution of (Gill)Man

By WALLACE McBRIDE

At the start of THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON we see a team of geologists unearth the fossil of a webbed, skeletal hand at an excavation somewhere in the Amazon. While we never really learn exactly where this excavation is taking place, an even more interesting bit of trivia is revealed: The fossil dates back to the Devonian Period. It was probably a WOW! moment for all of the paleontologists in the house, but was essentially meaningless to those of us in gen pop.

Universal Monsters movies aren't the best place to learn about any science other than the “mad” variety. All you're supposed to infer from the use of the word Devonian is that the fossil was old (something also implied by the word "fossil"). But the Creature from the Black Lagoon’s ancestor was a lot older — and tougher — than you might think.

The Earth was a very different place at the start of the Devonian Period, which began about 416 million years ago. Citing “creative differences,” the original supercontinent of Pangaea had divided into two supercontinents. One of them, named Gondwana, would continue to fragment, eventually creating South America and Africa.

The Devonian period was part of the Paleozoic era, sometimes referred to as the Age of Fishes. In this case, “Fishes” means “Bio-mechanical Nightmares,” because many of the sea creatures swimming around Earth’s oceans during this period were not to be fucked with. National Geographic describes a variety of armored placoderms that patrolled the waterways that had “powerful jaws lined with bladelike plates that acted as teeth.” After spending some quality time with evolution, these monsters grew as large as 33 feet in length.

If Devonian life wasn't shitty enough, the period ended on an extremely dour note: The Earth endured one of its five major extinction events during its final act. And it didn't happen all at once, either. Depending on who you ask, the gods went all George RR Martin on this planet for anywhere between 500,000 and 25 million years. The words “mass” and “extinction” are used frequently when discussing the Devonian period. Approximately 70 percent of all invertebrate life on Earth died during this time.

When the apocalyptic dust settled, though, our fictional Gillman (and his kin) must have spent the next few million of years on vacation. As the neighborhood Apex Predator, the Creature from the Black Lagoon appears to have had only two genuine threats: Man and himself. If the Black Lagoon’s modest “creature” population is evidence of anything, it’s that they either died off from boredom, depleted their food sources or had a Panda-esque aversion to reproduction.

The Gillman's fascination with Julie Adams suggests otherwise, though.

Had our intrepid archaeologists ventured further into the Amazon, they might have found a thriving community of Gillmen and Gillwomen. It’s even possible that the one we meet in this movie was kicked out of the tribe like so much Jar Jar Binks, and there are hundreds more living the Life of Riley somewhere deeper in the Amazon. But: These were tough, dangerous creatures that managed to survive millions of years against the meanest and nastiest lifeforms to ever roam the Earth. Because these creatures aren't popping up on beaches all over the world, we can assume there aren't many left by the time Julie Adams took her first dip in the Black Lagoon. When the Gillman is seen walking into the water at the end of 1956's THE CREATURE WALKS AMONG US, it almost certainly marks the extinction of this rugged and unlikely life form.

Monster Serial: CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON, 1954

Hello, boils and ghouls! October is upon us and that means one thing: HALLOWEEN! While most holidays get a measly day or two of formal recognition, orthodox Monster Kids prefer to celebrate it in the tradition of our people: By watching tons of horror movies. This month at THE COLLINSPORT HISTORICAL SOCIETY, we're going to be discussing some of our favorites every day until Halloween. So, put on your 3-D spex, pop some popcorn and turn out the lights .... because we're going to the movies!

By HERB GILLMAN,
guest commentary

Hi, my name is Herb, and I'd like to clear some things up about the 1954 documentary about me, CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON. When I signed the release form and agreed to appear in the picture, it was my understanding that it was going to be an IMAX-type film dealing with the natural splendor of my blissful existence... an existence balanced by the downer truth that I am the last of my kind.  Well, except for Carol Channing, with whom I was not on speaking terms at the time. The 3D was going to be beautiful, and I'll confess that on Blu-ray, it is. This is especially true because the newer technology allows the crisp, 3D photography to be enjoyed along with the truly gorgeous black and white cinematography.   

Beyond that, it's lies, lies, lies. I guess the humans are portrayed accurately, even if the names are all looped to be different.  (Whit Bissell, you Indiana Jones-style adventurer, I'm looking at you.) Their savage attitude toward the environment and endangered species is embarrassing, and I can't blame future GILLIGAN'S ISLAND auteur, Jack Arnold, who told me he was going for a Michael Moore-type expose of such callous concerns. 

Yes, they think I'm a missing link. Yes, an expedition goes out to find me in what was recut to be one of the most lush horror films of the 1950's. Yes, I was made out to be the last, great "original" Universal Monster.  (Although the Westmore Dynasty took make-up credit for the look granted to me by, I don't know. Oh yeah, my parents and millions of years of evolution.) But it's time I told the truth.

Was I interested in the gorgeous Julie Adams, the "girl on the expedition," whose aquatic ballet in the revealing swimsuit was an erotic highlight of Fifties cinema? Yes ... as a friend!  (We'd met at Musso and Frank's a year or so earlier when I returned some gloves she'd dropped.) I was a better swimmer, and as Arnold and company kept exploiting her, I would look on with avuncular concern, ready to keep her from drowning. (Someone had to.) Of course, this was recut to make me look like some sort of lustful reprobate in a beauty-and-the-beast riff. Really? Really? What is it with humans?  I'm as interested in a woman without scales as you are with a guy covered in them.

The rest of the film is just half-truths and material that I thought was gag footage for the wrap party. Or it's just stuff taken totally out-of-context. Arnold stacks the deck against me at the start when I try to speak to some beatniks who were squatting on my land. I enter the tent, some guy with a Beatle haircut throws a FLAMING LAMP at me, I stagger around for balance and grab the guy's head instead of his shoulder, he screams like a girl scout, then some other guy starts attacking me with a knife, I try to push him aside just to get to some water, and it's all made to look like I'm killing them.

Well played, Arnold.  This gives anybody in the movie license to beat the crap out of me with the audience rooting them on. They did the same thing to Frankenstein's monster and King Kong. James Whale and Merion C. Cooper were studied well. 

As the documentary went on, all I did was try to negotiate with these harpoon-weilding nabobs.  I'd show up with my hands up, trying to demonstrate that I'd left my .38 back in the cave.  They attack me.  They poison my water. They aim guns at me.  At one point, some drunken investors show up, Julie Adams hides behind a tree, I try to carry her away, and as I calm her down and let her rest, they chase me off.  This was just the beginning! They cage me, drug me, set me on fire AGAIN.  I even take the rap for a bunch of fallen trees.  Yes, trees. Then they drug me some more, like giving a dog robitussin.  And me?  I keep trying to negotiate.  Their answer? They actually start shooting at me. What the Hell?  Classic Hollywood.  Drugs and guns.  Drugs and guns.  Having NO idea what they'll do with the rifles and tranquilizers, I get Julie away from those reprobates and hide her in the cave, but they show up like Charlton Heston at a Time Warner board meeting, start blasting away, and I just walk off the project. Turns out, Julie was in on it and I'd been played like Zamfir's flute.  I used to like Zamfir.

Why did Arnold do this to me?  I don't know. Why did they dub in my sister Carol's distinctive growl over my own, lubricious voice? Beats me. YOU get accompanied by the most distinctive, three-note bray of music in all of horror films? Again, lost. But there's no way a fella can appear with that music and NOT be considered pure evil. 

 

Look, I'm just a guy.  Hell, a vegan. I pay my taxes.  I work with kids.  It's not like I choreographed Miley's VMA thing (although it was kinda hot). 

Ultimately, it's all about the dollars.  A nature documentary won't sell.  A gripping horror film, beautifully filmed, drenched with pathos and intrepid heroes will. 

Just remember: I'm the hero.

Best,

Herb Gillman, DDS

PATRICK McCRAY is a well known comic book author who resides in Knoxville, Tenn., where he's been a drama coach and general nuisance since 1997. He has a MFA in Directing and worked at Revolutionary Comics and on the early days of BABYLON 5, and is a frequent contributor to The Collinsport Historical Society. You can find him at The Collins Foundation.