Nightmare Fuel 2019, Day 6 – Sssssss

What better way to follow up an attempt by the devil to influence society than to delve into the machinations of mad science and the pull of the human heart? I mean, it makes perfect sense to me, dunno ‘bout yinz. Today we’re looking at a film with a title that’s probably more fun to say than the move is to actually watch (but more on that latter subject in a moment), Sssssss.

Now, based on that wondrous title, you might think the film concerns the dangers of a gas leak or a constantly-deflating tire. Nah, son, we’re dealing with the characteristic hiss of snakes, particularly the dangerous and regal king cobra. Aw yeah. The story centers on scientist Carl Stoner, who works on apparently mysterious projects with snake venom. Young David, a not-altogether-outstanding college student, is recruited to be the good doctor’s new assistant. He’s taken into the combination house/laboratory and subjected to daily injections of snake venom, ostensibly to build within him an immunity to the stuff – a helpful preventative measure for someone regularly handling dangerous serpents all day. He also begins to fall in with the scientist’s young daughter. Things take a turn for the maniacal, though, when it becomes clear that those aforementioned injections aren’t a precaution after all, but rather a means to try to transform David into a sort of snake/human hybrid. You can imagine the fun that could arise from that, right?

On the surface, this sounds like at least a mildly ludicrous film, one that trades in the goofy notion of transhumanism (a form of it, anyway) apparently for the damn sake of it, but it’s actually not quite as absurd as you might think. For such a wild concept, the film is mostly pretty grounded, with collegiate politics and matters of the heart taking center stage, the scientist’s work in herpetology merely a conduit for the narrative to take advantage of. Much of it is surprisingly dry, and even once we begin to understand the good doctor’s plans and see some past effects of his experimentation – complete with some occasionally dodgy makeup effects – the idea is properly dark enough to keep the hokeyness to a fair minimum. Admittedly, the fact that such films being made in the early ‘70s suffer from some contextual issues (even aside from the modest budget) does weigh things down a bit, but the ramifications aren’t enough to drown the picture. Indeed, the use of real snakes (including king cobras and black mambas) grants a level of concrete genuineness to the proceedings, helping gird the film against its own weaknesses.

The acting is mostly solid, if slightly held back by a decidedly ‘70s-style script that focuses on the mad scientist portion of the story a tad too much at times. The film is one of the first on-screen appearances of future Captain America and Roll Fizzlebeef Reb Brown, who does what’s expected of him as a muscle-bound jock who meddles with the herpetological madness; and Heather Menzies avails herself rather well as the scientist’s daughter and David’s love interest. Indeed, her panic and worry at the very end (the final goddamn shot, in fact) border on the absolutely believable, even if the circumstances aren’t exactly commensurate, if you catch my drift. Strother Martin’s turn as the scientist is nicely understated and dry for the most part, his mania manifest in his actions as the film progresses, a crescendo of insanity. The production design is barely existent, but the low-fi aesthetic works for the narrative, providing some grit to the weirdness, even if the makeup doesn’t quite hold the volumes of water the filmmakers likely thought it did.

Nonetheless, the film is some surprisingly entertaining fare, well worth a go if the oddity of it all sounds in any way appetizing. Plus, you get to have fun with the title, possibly the high point of everything, call me crazy.