Reptilicus (1961) – Review

Oh, Reptilicus, where do we even begin? Imagine if someone took a Godzilla movie, stripped away any semblance of quality, and then sprinkled it with just enough 1960s charm to make it hilariously bad. This is the movie that dares to ask the question, “What if a giant rubber dragon, fresh from a 50% off sale at the local toy store, terrorized Copenhagen with all the ferocity of a slightly agitated cat?”

Our tale begins when some hapless Danish miner (Bent Mejding) stumbles upon a frozen chunk of flesh while drilling for copper deep in the earth. And while you’d think they’d just leave well enough alone and continue looking for copper and forget the bloody discovery, but no—because who doesn’t want to thaw out this discovery and see what happens? Spoiler alert: Nothing good. A section of its tail is flown to Denmark’s Aquarium in Copenhagen, where it is to be kept frozen and preserved in a cold room for scientific study. Stupidly, they left Mr. Petersen (Dirch Passer), a discount Lenny from “Of Mice and Men,” to keep watch. But while he was off doing “Lenny” things, Professor Peter Dalby (Povl Wøldike) nods off at his desk, with the door to the freezer left open and this results in the specimen accidentally being thawed out. Unfortunately, instead of being spoiled, the sample seems to be regenerating.

“This completely ruins my plans for a prehistoric barbeque!”

Professor Otto Martens (Asbjørn Andersen), who is in charge of the aquarium, dubs the reptilian species “Reptilicus,” and he compares the creature’s regeneration abilities to those of other animals like flatworms and starfish. Along with him is his team of questionable character tropes, we have the aforementioned Professor Dalby, whose nodding off started this mess, and then there is Otto’s attractive daughter Lise Martens (Ann Smyrner), who provides some nice Danish eye candy but not much else. Next is reporter/scientist Connie Miller (Marlies Behrens in the American version and Bodil Miller in the Danish one) who is around for exposition purposes and to provide a possible love interest – not that we have much time for that – and finally there is Brigadier General Mark Grayson (Carl Ottosen) who hasn’t a clue as to why he had been summoned to Denmark in the first place. Maybe the Danish government have a precog on hand as the need for military advice is soon required.

“Can we feed this idiot to the monster?”

During an electrical storm, which knocks out the power and phone lines, Reptilicus has a major growth spurt, and it breaks free of the lab so that it can get a jump on its rampaging. While this is going on, Petersen is off alerting the authorities only to later discover that Reptilicus has killed/swallowed poor Professor Dalby and thus our intrepid group of scientists are down a man and up one giant monster. With help from local military liaison Captain Brandt (Ole Wisborg), it falls to our remaining heroes to come up with a way to halt this prehistoric menace before Denmark becomes the next favourite stomping ground for wandering kaiju, one that looks like it’s two parts dinosaur to one part dragon.

Prehistoric or mythological, you be the judge.

The monster — which is capable of spitting a green acidic substance if you are watching the American version — attacks villages, destroys buildings, and devours livestock. The military tries everything from tanks to flamethrowers to stop the beast, but Reptilicus is virtually indestructible. As the monster moves closer to Copenhagen, the situation grows dire, the city’s residents are evacuated, and the military is put on high alert. Dr. Martens and his team work frantically to find a way to stop the creature once and for all. When the creature flees into the depths of the ocean, General Grayson orders depth charges to be used, but Connie quickly points out that using such explosive weaponry would only exacerbate the problem by creating more regenerating monsters.

“Have you even been paying attention to the plot?”

As Reptilicus slithers its way across Denmark, wreaking havoc at the speed of a leisurely stroll, the Danish military springs into action, armed with the world’s least effective anti-monster strategy: shooting at it repeatedly while the creature gently nibbles on model buildings. The special effects are the kind that would make even the most devoted Ed Wood fan cringe as we watch in amazement as Reptilicus lumbers across the screen like a drunk uncle after five hours at an open bar – but the real “achievement” was in seeing the blend of stock footage and a surprising amount of rented out Danish military used to depict the titanic struggle. As with any self-respecting giant monster movie, we will be treated to some citywide destruction, and Reptilicus does the best it can do on its meagre budget.

“Excuse me, could someone point out any national monuments I could destroy?”

The film concludes in a typical fashion, with the army unable to halt the dragon and General Grayson deciding that bombing it is their only option, that is until Connie once again points out this will only cause the creature to be blown to bits and then those bits in turn becoming thousands of more rampaging dragons. How did Grayson forget this bit of information? Was he hit on the head by the giant sock puppet? Anyway, an offhand remark about drugging the beast is jumped upon, and soon our heroes are concocting a cocktail to launch into the mouth of Reptilicus so that they can put it to sleep and then safely destroy the beast. But as with any decent monster movie, the film ends on a suspenseful note, with the scientists and military officials breathing a sigh of relief, a final shot reveals a small piece of Reptilicus sitting on the ocean floor and growing, hinting that the monster might return.

We’re still waiting for the sequel.

Stray Observations:

• The film begins in the frozen mountains of Lapland, high above the Arctic Circle. However, we see no snow in the first scene, in fact, the miners appear to be in a tropical jungle instead.
• Upon finding bloody flesh on the drill bit, the miner declares that is “fossil bone” as well, which is odd as you can’t have bloody meat and skin surrounding fossilized bone.
• Why is there a paleontologist working at a Danish aquarium? Doesn’t Denmark have museums or universities for this guy to get a job at?
• If the film The Thing from Another World taught us anything, it’s that a frozen creature is never going to stay frozen for long.
• At the twenty-seven-minute mark, the plot stops cold so we can have a Denmark travelogue segment, with Connie showing General Grayson all the famous tourist attractions.
• For some reason Svend Viltorft rejoins the plot when Reptilicus begins his rampage, having been absent since dropping off the sample at the aquarium, and I’m not sure why he’s back helping the army track the monster. Are Danish miners known for their monster-hunting skills?
• A few scenes in the Danish version where Reptilicus was shown flying were cut from the U.S. version because the producers thought that they looked “unconvincing.” This leaves me to ask, “Did they think everything else looked convincing?”

And they considered this realistic?

This film had a rather weird production as it was actually two pictures shot simultaneously, one directed by Danish director Poul Bang and filmed in the Danish language, the other directed by American producer-director Sidney Pink and filmed in the English language with an almost identical cast. Pink and Bang would take turns throughout each shooting day with Pink directing and filming a shot in English, after which Bang would direct and film the same shot in Danish. Unfortunately, American International Pictures deemed Pink’s as virtually unreleasable and it had to be extensively reworked by the film’s Danish-American screenwriter, Ib Melchior – this is when footage showing Reptilicus vomiting acid saliva was added – and while this angered Pink to such a degree that he filed a lawsuit against AIP it was eventually dropped and Reptilicus was released upon an unsuspecting America in 1962.

Monster of Party Beach.

Of course, Reptilicus itself is the true star of this disaster, with the creature’s movements being gloriously awkward and with all the grace of a wind-up toy after too many drinks. And then there’s the infamous scene where Reptilicus spits green goo, which looks more like someone squeezed a bottle of dish soap across the screen. This was supposed to be terrifying, but instead, it’s more like the monster is having a bad case of indigestion. You’ll be left wondering if the filmmakers were trying to make a horror movie or were just trolling the audience. That two versions exist and yet both are equally terrible is not surprising considering they didn’t bother to hammer out a proper script before going into production, that the end result was something closer to what you’d find a port-o-potty than a good movie was almost a foregone conclusion.

“Son, do you smell something?”

As for the cast of humans, things aren’t much better. The cast delivers their lines with all the enthusiasm of someone reading a grocery list, which is probably a blessing considering the dialogue found in this script would give any seasoned actor trouble as it was filled with pseudo-scientific mumbo jumbo that’s about as convincing as the monster itself, but as this film was populated by what I assume were outcasts from dinner theatre we weren’t going to find any great moments of thespian brilliance no matter how good or bad the script was. Worse was the attempt to bring comedy to the proceedings in the form of Petersen’s character, who comes across as a low-rent Lou Costello and not remotely funny; the fact that he isn’t devoured by Reptilicus is only one of many failings this film has to offer.

“Hey Abbott, this script sucks!”

But let’s be honest, even with all the bad acting and failed comedy on display, Reptilicus has one thing going for it, it’s still one of those movies that’s so bad it’s…well, still pretty bad, but also a lot of fun if you’re in the right mindset. It’s a relic from a time when giant monster movies were churned out like hotcakes, and it stands as a prime example of what happens when budget constraints meet creative ambition head-on—and lose. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a cheesy, oversized souvenir you buy on vacation—totally unnecessary, but impossible to resist. If you can’t love a movie with a wonky puppet waving its head around while hordes of extras run in terror – or laughter if you look at the crowd shots more carefully – then this isn’t your kind of movie, but goofy monsters are your jam. there is much enjoyment to be found here.

“Oh, the humanity!”

In conclusion, Reptilicus is a delightful disaster —a movie so bad that it loops back around to become a kind of kitschy masterpiece. If you’re in the mood for some unintentional comedy, terrible special effects, and a plot that makes less sense than a Danish pastry recipe written in Latin, then this is the movie for you. Denmark, you deserved better, but at least you gave us a monster that we’ll never forget—no matter how hard we try.