Franchises: The Fly. The Fly (1958)

Like a lot of classic science fiction and horror films, The Fly is a movie I heard about over the years from books on the subject that I would find at my school's library. The first time I really became aware of its story was in a Crestwood House monster book on "Mad Scientists," which detailed movies about science experiments gone on awry. I must say, I don't remember being too enthusiastic about the plot when I heard that the scientist and the fly basically switch heads, which, even at that young age, I felt was kind of lame. Being a fan of big monster movies, I was hoping for a man-sized fly or something of that nature, too young to understand how stupid that was in and of itself. One part of the film's description that did get my attention, though, was mention of something to do with a spider-web, although my young mind scrambled it up with the detail about the hydraulic press, as I thought he stuck his head up into some space where a big spider crawled down a web and got him. After that, it would be quite a while before I learned a lot more about the film, which would be thanks to a book I bought in 1999 called Monster Madness, which talked about various famous movie monsters. By this point, I was mature enough to where I was able to see how the concept was quite interesting, even though the book itself was rather tongue-in-cheek in describing the film's plot and, as many books that tackle the film tend to do, neglected to mention its structure and how the main story is told in flashback (although it did mention its murder-mystery aspect). I finally saw the movie in October of 2000 when my mom and I both caught it on AMC's annual MonsterFest marathon. We actually came in a few minutes late, missing the opening, and, since I was unaware of the story's structure and also because I always thought it was in black-and-white, I wondered at first if what we were watching was The Fly, despite what the cable listings said. As it unfolded, however, it became clear that we did have the right movie, and I became quite transfixed by it, finding it to be both cool and more than a little disturbing at points, especially the ending. Mom was also creeped out by aspects of it but enjoyed it nonetheless. Like all of the movies that I saw back then that I liked, I immediately wanted to own it, especially after I saw the entire movie some time later (again on AMC), and sure enough, I picked up the VHS the following spring, along with a bunch of other old monster flicks. To this day, I still enjoy this film (I put it close to the top of my favorite horror films list) and consider it to be a true classic. I think so highly of it, in fact, that, not only is this review going to be about praising the film but also defending it since, nowadays, it often gets laughed at and referred to as campy and silly, especially when compared to David Cronenberg's remake (which I love and whose ass I will unabashedly kiss when I get to it). I won't deny that some aspects of it are unavoidably dated and whatnot but, for me, this is a slick, sophisticated, well-made film that has something to it that most 50's monster movies don't.

While making his rounds at the Delambre Freres Electronics plant in Montreal, a night watchman, hearing the sounds of a hydraulic press running nearby, investigates and surprises a woman who immediately runs away. He then makes the grisly discovery of the body of a man whose head and left arm are crushed under the press he saw her standing by. Later that evening, Francois Delambre receives a phone call from his sister-in-law, Helene, who tells him that she's murdered his brother and business partner, Andre. After receiving a call from the watchman about the body and that he saw a woman whom he feels was Helene fleeing the scene, Francois calls Inspector Charas and tells him what's happened. Upon visiting the crime scene with the police and positively identifying the body as that of Andre, Francois is utterly baffled, unable to come up with a reason as to why Helene would do this to her beloved husband. When they visit Helene herself, she calmly admits to killing Andre but constantly refuses to give a motive, and when Francois shows Charas Andre's laboratory down in the house's basement, he's shocked to discover that not is it completely different from when he last saw it but that its over $200,000 worth of special equipment has been destroyed. As time passes, while she's under surveillance with a police nurse staying with her, Helene continues to come across as insane, acting as if her and Andre's son, Philippe, is actually Francois' and displaying a bizarre fixation and apparent fear of common houseflies. As Charas prepares to charge Helene with murder, feeling that her "madness" is nothing more than an act, Francois learns from Philippe, who's staying with him and is unaware of his father's death, that he saw a fly that his mother was looking for before, one with a white head and white leg. Upon hearing this, and learning that Philippe first saw the fly the day his father "went away," Francois visits Helene and tells her that he's found this particular fly. He tells her that he's going to give it to Charas if she doesn't tell him the truth and is able to convince her to do so, albeit with Charas present as well since she can't tell it twice. She recounts a story about how, several months before, Andre revealed to her that he'd invented the "Disintegrator-Integrator," a device that could transport matter from space to another, one destined to change the world. After working tirelessly to perfect it enough to where it could also teleport living things as well, Andre became ambitious enough to try to transport himself, which worked. However, when he attempted it a second time, a fly got into the device with him and when they were reintegrated, their atoms were mixed up. His only hope was for Helene to find the fly with his human head so that they could go through again and "untangle" their atoms, but when Helene failed to do so, Andre was forced to kill himself with her help, as his mind was beginning to become as violent and unpredictable as that of a fly. After hearing the story, Charas is now convinced that Helene is insane and plans to arrest her and have her committed. Francois, not knowing what to think, is told by Charas that there's only one way he'd be convinced that her story is true: "Show me the fly."

The Fly is by far the most well-known and most successful film by Kurt Neumann, a German-born director who'd been working steadily in Hollywood since the early 30's. He started out directing German-language versions of popular Hollywood movies and, after he mastered English himself, he became a director of small B-movies known as programmers and, in the early 40's, directed a number of 45-minute comedies meant to fill out very small double-bills. He became the main director of the Tarzan movies starring Johnny Weissmuller in the mid-to-late 40's and it was in the 50's when he became associated with science fiction and horror, directing films like Rocketship X-M (which is best known for having a cameo by Moe Howard from the Three Stooges), She-Devil (the film he did right before The Fly), and Kronos. I must admit I've never seen any of Neumann's other movies, although since he was principally a journeyman director who was employed to make movies simply so the studios could have something to show rather than due to any filmmaking craft on his part, I'm willing to bet that they're mostly forgettable. That said, though, he did show quite a bit of talent with this movie and an ability to give a film a slick, polished look. Unfortunately, even though this proved to be his most successful movie, he didn't live to see it as he died at the age of 50 right before its premiere. Although, it wasn't the last film of his that was ever released, as Machete, Watusi, and Counterplot were released later in 1958 and 1959.

Admittedly, this story about a scientist who ends up with the head and arm of a fly could have easily come across as very silly and stupid but one of the things that helps this film rise above that is the cast, who take it very seriously and play it straight, while, at the same time, giving the movie a touch of class. David Hedison (whose real first name is Albert and is billed as "Al" here) is often criticized as being a typical bland leading man who was only put into the role because of his good looks but I disagree with that. I think Hedison did a pretty good job in his performance as Andre Delambre and after I saw this film, he became an actor I always enjoyed seeing, particularly in his two appearances in the James Bond franchise. Francois describes Andre early on as a man who loved his family and his work and Hedison manages to bring that across very well. Andre is very dedicated to his work, to the point where he can be absent-minded and neglectful, locking himself down in his laboratory for days and even weeks on end, working away, but when you see him interacting with his family, it's obvious that he's just as devoted to them, especially Helene, whom he loves very much. Not only is he obviously brilliant but he's also a very curious person, telling Helene that he's filled with a wonder of scientific and technological process, seeing it as the natural result of man's God-given knowledge to learn the secrets of life, whereas Helene is frightened by it. He's also quite humble despite his brilliance, telling Helene, "The more I know, the more I'm sure I know so little. The eternal paradox," admitting that he doesn't even know why parts of the Disintegrator-Integrator work the way they do, and feels that his stumbling across such a discovery is luck more than anything else. Unfortunately for Andre, he's prone to recklessness in his work that first results in him reducing the family cat, Dandelo, to a stream of wailing atoms when he uses her in the first live experiment and, ultimately, proves to be his downfall when he fails to notice the housefly that ends up in the disintegrator with him when he tries the experiment out on himself.

One thing that surprised me when I first saw the film is that you don't see the experiment that turns Andre into the fly creature. Instead, it happens off-camera after the conversation between Andre and Helene out in the garden, with both her and the audience only gradually learning of the disaster that's occurred. I always thought the image of Andre with that black cloak over his head was quite ominous, creating a mystery of what he's hiding beneath it and delaying the full reveal of what's happened to him even further (despite my and most audiences knowing ahead of time). I also remember being quite unnerved by the sound of him sucking up the food and drinks that Helene brings to him through his proboscis, which my mom also thought was really horrible. Amazingly, Hedison is able to convey a performance even with that thing over his head, getting across that, for the time being, it is still Andre under there, who's frustrated, scared, and ultimately hopeless about what's happened to him. One of the criticisms leveled at the film, especially from David Cronenberg and Charles Edward Pogue, the original writer of the 80's remake, is how Andre has now lost his voice and is unable to convey his thoughts about what's happening to him except by writing on a chalkboard and on a typewriter, as well as knocking in order to communicate with Helene, but I think this is just as effective as Seth Brundle's ability to articulate himself in the remake, albeit in a different way. For me, it's quite striking to see how this charismatic, brilliant scientist and loving family man has already lost so much of his humanity in an instant of overzealousness and has been reduced to this. This only adds to the power of the notion that he's slowly but surely losing his will to the dangerous, savage instincts of the fly and, if Helene doesn't find the human-headed fly so he can reverse the transformation, he'll have to kill himself before he can become a threat to his family. Seeing him struggling with his fly claw, especially when he's trying to rub his beloved wife's face after she's fainted upon seeing his head, is very sobering, and I've always found the scene that leads into, where he destroys the equipment and research that's ruined his life in a rage, as well as to make sure that no one else will learn what he's discovered, to be both tragic and disturbing at the same time. He then tells Helene to help him kill himself, as well as to find and kill the human-headed fly, and, after scribbling, LOVE YOU, on the chalkboard as he really begins to lose control of himself, he has her crush his head and arm in the hydraulic press in the nearby factory.

Just as, and perhaps even more, horrifying as the fly-headed human is the other creature that Andre is split up into as a result of the experiment: the little fly with the head and arm of a man. It's only featured near the end in the movie's most iconic scene but it leaves an impact, regardless. I've heard so many people say that they were unable to take this seriously and find it unintentionally funny (even Vincent Price and Herbert Marshall felt this way, as they blew a number of takes because they couldn't stop laughing) but I've never felt it was funny in the slightest. Maybe I'm just overly sensitive to this kind of stuff but hearing that little thing scream bloody-murder, begging for someone to help it, as the spider closes in for the kill has always really disturbed me. It's even more effecting in that you see can see the little face of Andre, with a very frightened expression, as he helplessly watches the spider approach and, like the main fly-creature, it's horrifying and sad to see what his life's work has ultimately done to him.

Even though she's second-billed after Hedison, as a result of the film's structure, its real main character is Patricia Owens as Andre's wife, Helene. She goes through an interesting arc throughout the story, coming across as a dangerous madwoman when you first meet her, coldly telling Francois and Inspector Charas how she killed her husband but refusing to tell them why, even though she says that they were both very happy in their marriage. She even acts as if her and Andre's son, Philippe, is actually Francois' son, and she has some type of fixation with flies, often stopping dead in her tracks and attempting to get a close look at one whenever it appears, becoming hysterical when the police nurse left to care for her kills one in her bedroom after she pleads with her not to hurt it. Charas believes her erratic behavior is nothing more than an act and it turns out that he's right: when Francois confronts Helene about the white-headed fly and claims to have it locked in his desk, she admits that she was pretending to be insane for Philippe's sake, feeling that it would better than for him to go through life with the stigma of being the son of a woman who was executed for murder (I don't see how being the son of a woman declared insane is any better but whatever). As Helene recounts her story of why she killed Andre, you see that they were a very happy couple and that she supported him implicitly in his work, even though she didn't care for how overly preoccupied with it he often became and that she also felt what he'd discovered was a little frightening, especially when she learns what happened to Dandelo. She soon learns that she has a reason to be frightened of it when she sees what's happened to her beloved Andre and she also feels some guilt when she realizes that she's screwed him over by forcing Philippe to release the white-headed fly he said he caught. Horrified when she learns the details of Andre's predicament, Helene does everything she can to find the white-headed fly and almost does catch it but when it escapes out into the garden, she ends up crying in hopelessness. Speaking of which, Helene does a lot of crying and screaming in the film and I've heard some refer to it as melodramatic, especially with her hand gestures (which I do cringe at), but I think it works just fine for the most part, as I can see her crying when she sees that the fly the nurse killed wasn't the right one being over the nightmare her life has disintegrated into, forever searching for that white-headed fly per her husband's last request, and her crying over seeing Andre's fly arm simply because it was the last thing she expected. The most powerful scream she does, though, is when she finally sees the enormous fly-head underneath Andre's cloth, which comes right after a vain attempt to reverse the process by sending him through the teleporter. It's effective both just due to the sheer terror that she's going through upon seeing that and also because she now realizes how hopeless the situation is. Once she sees the fly-head, she becomes very distant and emotionless towards Andre, coldly activating the hydraulic press to crush his head and only trying at the last minute to keep him from dying. This detachment comes from her no longer considering that creature to be her husband, as she tells Charas after finishing her story. As far as she's concerned, Andre died as soon as he went through the teleporter a second time, and she's glad the horrible monster he became is dead. She also feels the same way about the human-headed fly, which she wanted destroyed as well. While she's still almost put away and is naturally horrified at the idea of being locked up, Helene is ultimately able to go on with her life with Philippe, with Francois and Charas having Andre's death declared a suicide after they both learn that her story was the truth.

Another criticism I've sometimes heard leveled at this film is the idea that Vincent Price is miscast in the role of Andre's brother, Francois, and that he comes across as awkward playing such a nice guy when he usually played a sinister villain. I don't know what movie they saw because I always thought Price was superlative in this film, as he was in every movie he was in. I guess it helps that this was one of the first movies with him that I ever saw, with the only one before this having been House of Wax, and so I had not yet become used to him always playing a heavy. Plus, you also have to remember that, while he was a name at this time, this was a year or so before Price would become the icon of horror that everyone would remember him as and so, it wasn't uncommon to see him in such a role. In any case, as much as I love the performances he's best known for, I think it's refreshing to see Price in a role where he's not being over-the-top, campy, or villainous, but rather as just an everyday businessman whose life is completely shattered one night when his brother and business partner is unexpectedly killed by his sister-in-law. He's completely baffled, not only at the idea of Helene killing Andre when he knows how happy they were together, but also at the brutality of the crime and the state of Andre's laboratory when he shows it to Inspector Charas. Despite this, though, he staunchly stands by Helene, believing her actions to be the result of insanity rather than sheer malice, as Charas believes. This comes from his having always loved her himself, which he admits to Charas, although he never tried to interfere and respected that she loved Andre. However, as nice of a guy as he is, Francois does end up unintentionally screwing over Helene when he lies to her about having caught the white-headed fly she was looking for, not yet knowing its significance, and uses it to make her tell the truth about what happened to him and Charas, which leads to the inspector deciding that she's insane and attempting to arrest and commit her. Speaking of which, while Charas doesn't believe Helene's story for a second, Francois is not as quick to disbelieve her, feeling that it explains all the facts, but that could be because he's still desperate not to believe that she could have killed Andre without any real reason. However, seeds of doubt are planted in his mind thereafter when the Delambres' housemaid, Emma, says that the fly in question didn't look that unique to her. In any case, Francois clearly feels guilty about dooming Helene like this and tries to stop them from taking her away but is ultimately only able to keep Philippe from seeing her committed... that is, until Philippe tells him that the white-headed fly is in a spider's web in the garden. Seeing one last chance to save Helene, he takes Charas down into the garden, where they both see the fly and realize that it is true, prompting them to come up with a way of having Andre's death ruled a suicide since they know no one would believe them. The film ends with Francois telling Philippe that his father died because he was in a search for the truth and he was careless for one instant, inspiring the boy to be like his father (which eventually leads to the events of Return of the Fly, but let's not get ahead of ourselves).

As Inspector Charas, Herbert Marshall comes across as sympathetic but, at the same time, practical. While he can certainly sympathize with the plight of the Delambres, especially Francois and his feelings towards Helene, at the same time, a woman has apparently murdered her husband for no apparent reason and he has to follow the usual police procedure in dealing with this situation. He's smart and sympathetic enough to find out for sure that Francois himself wasn't behind everything in order to get both Helene and control of Delambre Freres Electronics (he admits that he hates having to pry into others' personal matters as part of his job), as well as to delay the warrant for her arrest in order to give Francois time to find out what Andre was working on, but he ultimately has to admit that he thinks Helene is a cold-blooded killer who's simply acting as if she's insane and very sadly tells Francois that, "I cannot conceive of any verdict except guilty... or guilty but insane." When he listens to Helene's bizarre story about why she killed Andre, he doesn't believe it at all but, at the same time, feels that it proves she is insane and that it will at least save her from being hanged. He tells Francois that the only way he'd believe the story is if he sees the human-headed fly... which he does just as Helene is about to be taken away. At first reluctant to come with Francois, seeing it as one last desperate attempt to save Helene, Charas finally goes with him into the garden and, along with Francois, is horrified to see that Helene's story was true all along. When he crushes the fly with a rock, along with the spider, Charas must come to terms with the notion that he committed murder just as much as Helene, and since they know no one will believe them, he and Francois come up with scenario to exonerate Helene by ruling Andre's death a suicide (which it really was, in the first place).

An interesting thing about this film is that its cast is pretty tight, with four main characters and not too many supporting characters of note (in fact, two of the supporting actors, Torben Meyer who plays Gaston, the night watchman who discovers Andre's body, and Eugene Borden as Dr. Ejoute, the Delambre family doctor, aren't even credited). Emma (Kathleen Freeman), the Delambre housemaid, is the closest the film comes to a comic relief character, looking absolutely perplexed at Helene's bizarre request to catch flies rather than kill them, at one point saying to herself, "I don't what's gotten into this house!", although she does go along with it. I also smirk at this irritated, "Aah!" she makes when she cleans up a mess that Helene accidentally made in the kitchen when she was fetching Andre a bowl of milk laced with rum. One significant thing about her is that, like Francois, she unintentionally almost dooms Helene when she tells Francois that the fly she and Philippe were obsessed with catching didn't look any different to her, making him wonder if maybe Helene's story was nothing more than the creation of a disturbed mind. As for Andre and Helene's young son, Philippe (Charles Herbert), he's mostly just an oblivious child, although he has some significance to the story in that he's the one who brings the white-headed fly to his mother's attention and, even though he doesn't know why it's important, he also does his best to help her catch it later on, going so far as to comfort her when she cries over its getting away. He's also the one who makes Francois aware of the fly but, most importantly, he unknowingly saves his mother from being put away when he tells his uncle that the fly is caught in a spider-web in the garden, enabling him to show it to Charas. By the end of the film, he knows that his father, whom he was seemingly close to and who he originally thought was simply away from home, often asking when he was coming back, is dead but he doesn't know the details and when Francois tells him that his father died because he embarked on the important but dangerous search for the truth, he decides right then that he wants to follow in his footsteps.

Most 1950's monster flicks are very cheap affairs, either funded by independent producers or by fairly big studios who looked down on them and didn't want to waste too much money; The Fly, however, is a different matter, as it's a movie that has the look and feel of a major production. 20th Century Fox gave the film a pretty healthy budget for the time, somewhere between $300,000 and $500,000 and the proof is in the putting, not only in the presence of respected actors like Vincent Price and Herbert Marshall but also with the gorgeous Technicolor and the use of CinemaScope widescreen. The sets aren't too shabby either, especially Andre's laboratory, which cost $28,000 in and of itself. I don't if I'd say that it's realistic or anything like that but I'm sure, for the time, it did come across like a laboratory that a fairly rich man like Andre would have built in his basement, and there is a haphazard crudeness to the apparatuses and computers that make the machine work that make it feel like something that hasn't been refined yet, despite its functionality. You also have to love the details like the clicking sound of the computers when he starts the teleportation process, the machines powering up as the countdown to teleportation reaches zero, the blue and green wires and tubes that light up beautifully right before it happens, and the sound of the machines powering down once the process is completed. Another memorable set is the interior of the Delambre Freres Electronics plant, which has a harsh, drab, industrial feel to it that contrasts nicely with the film's much more elegant and lush sets (especially Helene's bedroom), including Andre's laboratory, and it's a type of set I can't recall seeing that often in films made around that time. And that hydraulic press that Andre uses to kill himself is quite unnerving for me as you can tell how heavy it is and the thought of someone's head being slowly crushed by that thing really gives me the chills.

Something else that's striking about the film is its tone. As I said earlier, the actors all play the film very dead-serious and there's very little in the way of the comic relief, which gives it an atmosphere of mystery, tension, and dread, especially during the beginning when it's unclear why Helene killed her husband in such a gruesome manner and why she has such a fixation with flies. Speaking of which, you wouldn't think it would be possible to make the sound of a fly buzzing ominous but this film manages to pull that off well. Not only do you have the scenes where the sound causes Helene to stop dead in her tracks but there are also instances where you can faintly hear it in the distance, like when Francois and Charas enter Andre's destroyed laboratory and when Francois goes into his study after Philippe tells him about the white-headed fly that Helene had been obsessed with finding before. The characters don't acknowledge it in those latter scenes but, regardless, the fact that it's the only sound in those scenes apart from some occasional dialogue is surprisingly creepy, and it's even more so on repeated viewings when you know at the outset that there's a fly with a human head somewhere. You can then find yourself wondering if, in those instances where you hear a fly but don't see it, if that's it flying around, with the characters completely oblivious to it. It's particularly unnerving in the scene in Francois' study because Philippe said that's where he saw it earlier that day. Who knows? Francois may have been in the very same room with one of the two creatures his brother got split into and never knew it!

Effects-wise, The Fly is predictably dated in some spots but, that said, one aspect that often gets mocked nowadays that I don't think deserves it is the fly-mask that David Hedison wears during the film's second half. Yeah, it's a pretty old-fashioned way of getting across the mutation that Andre has gone through and isn't as graphically realistic as the makeup Jeff Goldblum would have in the Cronenberg film but, for the time, it was quite effective and I think it still looks pretty cool today, especially the constantly twitching feelers around the proboscis, the big, rainbow-colored, multi-lensed eyes, and the overall blue-black color to the head. It's not nearly as cumbersome and silly as the over-sized head that would be featured in the sequel. And I still find the scene where Helene pulls the cloth off his head to reveal it to be quite shocking because of the effective build-up to it. Speaking of which, even though I've heard that it's not scientifically accurate (I don't know how anybody would know how a fly actually sees, though), the mosaic of Helene's screaming face from Andre's point of view is a pretty striking and memorable image, made all the more effective by the echo effect applied to her scream. As for the claw that Hedison wears over his left hand, it looks fine to me, even in really tight close-ups, and the awkward, impractical nature of it when it tries to grab onto something against Andre's will I think helps with the notion that he's losing what humanity he still has left. Optical-wise, while the teleportation effects, with the blue light that grows blinding white as it engulfs the subject, are passable, the ones that are kind of dicey are the overhead shots of the human-headed fly trapped in the spider's web. It's onscreen for only a few seconds at a time but the matting effects of Hedison's head and arm superimposed atop the cocooned fly are a bit suspect, as you can see in the image. One effect that's surprisingly gruesome for the time is the shot at the beginning where you actually see Andre's head and arm crushed underneath the press, with blood splattered all over the side of it. I remember being quite shocked when I first saw that, as the only comparable thing around at that same time that I knew of was what Hammer Films were doing over in England, and it would be another decade before mainstream American films in general would get that ballsy. I'm still quite surprised that they let that pass in 1958.

Another common complaint I often hear hurled at the film is that the science doesn't make sense, that the fly head and claw inexplicably grow to the size of human limbs, while Andre's head and arm shrink down to the size of a fly. They also mention how both of the creatures seem to gain a human mind and the fly's seems to disappear into thin air. When it comes to these kind of movies, I find it best not to ask questions about logic because, one, if you do, you won't be able to enjoy the film, and two, when you think about it, how exactly does any of this stuff work? However, some are just unable to do that and so, to placate them, I will give my two cents on this perceived flawed science. When it comes to the sizes of the switched limbs, the only real answer is plot-convenience, because it would have looked really stupid for Andre to get a normal-sized fly-head and arm and for the fly to be saddled with a normal-sized human head and arm. As for where the fly's brain went, I think both it and Andre's brain got mixed up along with all the other atoms and each creature came out with sizable sections of both, with the one that was most dominant gradually overruling the other. The fly-headed human started out with Andre's brain still mostly intact but, as time went on, the fly part of the mind began to take over, which forced him to kill himself before he could become a danger to anyone else, especially his family. I think the opposite situation happened to the human-headed fly: it started out with the consciousness of an insect, which is why it acted like a typical housefly at first, but as time went on, part of Andre's brain began to creep in, which is why the fly cried for help when it became trapped in the spider-web. In fact, I don't think the human side of that creature was even fully-formed yet at that point. Just as the mind of the fly would have eventually dominated the fly-headed human, I think that Andre's consciousness could have taken over the fly completely had it lived a little longer, and that what we saw was only the very beginning of it.

Another aspect of the film that gives it a real feeling of menace is the excellent music score by Paul Sawtell. Except for the romantic love theme for Andre and Helene, which highlights not only their happy marriage but also the tragedy of what's happened to their life together once Andre becomes a hideous fly creature, the music at the ballet that the two of them attend, and the piece plays at the very end, this music score is all about creating fear and dread. After the 20th Century Fox theme at the beginning, you're immediately hit with a loud, bombastic, threatening theme that quickly descends into a much quieter but still ominous piece and, after the first instance of the love theme, the opening is repeated as Kurt Neumann's directing credit comes up (you can also hear the distant sound of a fly buzzing a couple of times during the credits). That bombastic main theme is reiterated various times throughout the films in different variations, be it a sudden, hard-hitting piece that highlights the horror of Gaston's discovering Andre's bloody corpse or a quicker version when Andre accidentally reveals his insect claw to Helene. One piece that I always remember is this loud, shrieking bit of music that plays when Helene reveals Andre's fly head, which leads into another recap of the main theme, a sadder version of their love theme when he places her on a couch after she's fainted and tries to comfort her, and a simultaneously nightmarish and tragic string piece that plays when he destroys his laboratory in a fit of hopeless rage. And finally, there's a theme for the spider-web scene that just builds and builds as they watch the spider close in for the kill on the screaming little fly, climaxing with a discordant crash after Charas crushes both of them with a rock. As effective as the music is, though, the film also knows when to back off from it, as there are long stretches of it that aren't scored at all and those add to the atmosphere of unease that is present throughout just as much as the music, so it makes for a great balance.

As far as I'm concerned, The Fly is and always will be a classic of the genre. Some may consider it campy and silly but, in reality, it's a slick, well-made, sophisticated film, with a cast that gives good performances all-around and give it a touch of class that most 50's monster movies don't have, high production values, gorgeous Technicolor and well-used CinemaScope, a very serious and ominous atmosphere throughout, some pretty disturbing scenes, images, and ideas, various effects that, while a bit dated, were effective for the time and still look cool to this day for the most part, and a memorable, creepy music score. The science is questionable in some regards, the concept of the mixing of atoms can be a little dicey in its execution, and, as I said, some of the technical aspects are unavoidably dated, but, as far as 50's sci-fi/horror flicks, this is pretty near the top of the list. If you think it's campy, I'd recommend giving it another shot because you might be surprised and find it to be much more well-made than you remember.