There comes a moment in every film lover’s life when they put away the prestige work and stop pretending that the only true cinematic giants were those consolidated into the mainstream through high-quality filmmaking, and instead start to realise that the industry is as much built on these works of artistic integrity as it is on B-movies, the forgotten realms of science fiction and horror, a few of which have become classics, but where the vast majority have faded into obscurity. Mercifully, there has been a concerted effort to preserve and restore as many of these films as possible, keeping them for posterity and allowing future generations to sample from their off-kilter madness and unquestionable brilliance. The Fly is not entirely obscure, but it is also not as well-regarded as some other films produced during this era, occupying a middle-ground that allows it to be enough substantive attention to be recognised as one of the better B-movies of its era, but not in the way that it is as cherished as other films. Written by the legendary and oddly prolific James Clavell (doing slightly against-type work in writing this film), based on the short story of the same title by George Langelaan, and helmed by Kurt Neumann, a journeyman director who did solid work throughout his career without receiving much credit for some of his exceptional productions, since they were not always as consistent as one would hope, The Fly is a fascinating piece of filmmaking, a daring and provocative bundle of ambitious ideas, held together by the intricate art of genre filmmaking, which is not nearly as easy a process as it may seem in theory. It doesn’t take a lot to satisfy the boundaries set by a film such as this, and it isn’t even a matter of attempting to do something different, but rather delivering an engaging and spirited adaptation of an already bizarre story, which makes for one of the more endearing horror films of this era.

In a recent discussion with a friend, where I mentioned my sincere appreciation for The Fly (and much to his shock – and I imagine yours – that this is superior to the David Cronenberg classic, but that’s another conversation), he described this film as “Sirk meets horror”, which is as appropriate a way to look at this film as any, especially since it is very much as indebted to melodrama as it is science fiction and horror, which is quite an unexpected turn of events. However, it is not unprecedented that the director would infuse the film with more than perhaps was necessary – there was a level of freeform liberation that came with directing B-movies, since they were usually made by those who were seen as being too experimental or proposing works far too unwieldy for mainstream fare, and thus there were often subversive filmmakers that approached their stories with a gonzo sensibility, daring to provoke and reconfigure the standards of the genre with extraordinary detail and a lot of off-the-wall concepts that would never fit into the stifling boxes imposed by the mainstream. Every moment of The Fly is filled with some strange or disconcerting choice, many of which may not have been particularly intentional. Through the knowledge we gain from the film’s production, as well as conversations with the cast after the fact, it is clear that this film was intended to be extremely serious, but yet nothing with this premise could be nearly as sombre as the director and writer were aiming to achieve, which only increases the joy we get from watching these gifted individuals work with a deeply absurd but oddly compelling narrative that never abates from the wall-to-wall madness, which is only made more eccentric by the addition of a melodramatic sub-plot that creates quite an inconsistent tone, albeit one that makes perfect sense if we look at the film holistically and understand precisely what it was that drove us to find some much perverse pleasure in this film.

Films that exist at the calibre of The Fly are not usually known to have the strongest performances, but they also tend to avoid casting entirely unknown or non-professional actors, since there was an expectation that these films would commonly contain acting that was questionable, to say the least, something that some producers were hoping to circumvent, while others openly embraced it. In this case, we have a solid cast, very few of which are unknown outside of this era of genre filmmaking, since many were not able to break through into the wider industry, which is understandable when we look at their performances, which are solid but sometimes veer on going too far. David Hedison and Patricia Owens are the de facto leads, the film is divided roughly equally between them in terms of the focus – Owens is the central figure for the first half, which is set in the aftermath of the events that kickstart the film, while Hedison takes over when the film jumps back in time to show how everything unfolded. Neither are particularly skilled or even that good, but they do convincingly play these roles, which are as much about exploring the inner turmoil these characters are experiencing as it is about creating an off-the-wall, strange experience, the likes of which it is quite difficult to escape from, which is part of the charm of seeing these performances. Had these roles been given to more skilled actors, they may have been more technically impressive, but lack the rugged charm of seeing less talented actors stretch themselves to the very borderline of their insanity, which is not something that professionals may have been able to achieve. The more nuanced acting comes on behalf of Herbert Marshall and Vincent Price, the latter seemingly wanting to take a break from playing sinister roles, instead relishing the opportunity to portray someone genuinely good, even if he does still play the role with the smirking charisma he always brought to every part. As a whole, the combination of established names and newer stars allows The Fly to flourish in many ways, which helps create a genuinely compelling and always very interesting set of ideas that propel the film.

Understanding the charm of B-movies is not something that immediately becomes clear when voyaging into this world. The mainstream has often portrayed the feeling that these low-budget horror and science fiction films were hastily-made, poor-quality attempts to bank on the popularity of the more official entries into various genres. What they tend to conveniently overlook is the fact that the vast majority of major works in both genres were more inspired by these films than they ever were with the more established creations that were put out by the studios – without films like The Fly, Hollywood would not have had many of its most original and creative voices, since even with a limited budget and apparent lack of resources, they managed to be more unique and enticing than anything being made by the big studios, who also tended to view genre films as secondary, whereas, for B-movie filmmakers and enthusiasts, these were the primary focus, the search to perfect them being perpetual and motivating for anyone who has ever wanted to become a filmmaker. The Fly contains many of the greatest qualities associated with the B-movie – the story is simple but engaging, and has innumerable twists and turns, even if we can tell where the narrative is heading from the start. The effects may seem paltry by contemporary standards but yet have far more originality than anything being produced with more financial means, which is once again based on the fact that the people working in these roles (such as makeup artists and production designers) were working to prove themselves, seeing this as a genuine act of artistic expression rather than just another job as a cog in the proverbial machinery of a mainstream film. The reveal of the creature in The Fly may incite some laughter, and it is indeed ridiculous, but it is also somehow far more terrifying on an uncanny level than even Cronenberg’s version, which is deeply disturbing but not to the point where we feel terrified, his version centring more on disgust. Many details in this film prove the merit of looking at low-budget filmmaking less as the more impoverished version of better films, but rather as the alternative to the mainstream – and unsurprisingly, its films like The Fly that we remember far more than the works being made by the major studios.

Captivating and thrilling in that perversely funny, borderline camp way that many B-movies tended to be during this, which is perhaps their peak, The Fly is quite an entertaining film, albeit not one that will convert the cynical or those who are not entirely on board with his style of filmmaking, which is often the case, since very few of us are christened into this side of the industry, and only encounter it much later in our journey (or through a parent or mentor who does their best to introduce us to it as soon as we can comprehend the scope of their genius), which opens up an entirely new world when it comes to seeing how the industry was formed. However, despite some of its inconsistencies and tendency to sometimes go a bit too far with trying to shoehorn additional genres into a story that didn’t require it, The Fly is still a terrific film, a subversive and bizarre jumble of ideas and visual cues that would not ever make sense in a more polished film, and instead where the actively engaging, entertaining nature of the narrative becomes the film’s greatest strength, even when it is at its most absurd. Solid performances from the cast, a story that is deeply bizarre but still very entertaining, and unique visual effects create a truly impressive, immersive experience, the likes of which we don’t often see in a contemporary landscape, which is one of the many reasons we can celebrate the unique brilliance of this film and everything that it represents as one of the more compelling entries into the science fiction genre, which benefits having such original works embedded in its past since we can still see many films made today paying tribute to the groundwork laid by this film and many others that exist on the same level of deranged but heartfelt brilliance.