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Review

One of the earliest and best remembered entries in the “nature bites back” cycle of horror filmmaking that would eventually explode into a frenzy later in the seventies following the runaway box-office success of Jaws (1975). Frogs, released by AIP, is perhaps best described as an amphibious revision of Alfred Hitchcock’s classic The Birds (1963) with an added dose of semi-moralising ecological awareness marking it out as a film of its era. In actual fact the title Frogs really sells the film short as Frogs sees its wealthy, immensely dislikeable protagonists meeting rather nasty ends not only at the webbed hands of the title creatures but also via the tooth and claw of just about every slithering swampland inhabitant one could care to think of.

Sam Elloit stars as environmentalist Pickett Smith who treks out in his boat into a secluded region of the Florida swamplands in order to shoot a magazine photo spread on the pollution problem in the area. After he gets involved in a boating accident Smith is escorted to the luxurious private island of the Crockett family located slap bang in the centre of the swamps. Ruled over with an iron fist by their gruff, wheelchair-bound patriarch Jason Crockett (Milland), the Crockett’s are confirmed animal haters who have systematically decimated the local wildlife by spraying the surrounding areas with various poisons and insecticides.

As Jason’s birthday approaches and the congregated Crockett family prepare to celebrate, they are completely unaware that nature has a terrible revenge in store for them. The many varying animals occupying the surrounding swamps stage a unified assault of the Crockett household orchestrated by the resident frog population. Soon nature enjoys its ultimate revenge as the Crockett’s are killed off one by one by the very animals they had strove to eradicate.

Despite its inescapably ridiculous premise Frogs works due to its makers steadfast insistence on playing the narrative as a straight, deadly serious horror film, wisely avoiding the typically tongue-in-cheek hokiness that tends to relegate such films to B-Movie status. Resultantly Frogs, while by no means a classic, emerges as a modestly effective shocker that serves up more than the odd disarmingly chilling moment. With rubbish like the totally worthless sci-fi anti-extravaganza The Shape Of Things To Come (1979) and a whole hoist on nondescript television work to his credit, it is a pleasant surprise that George McCowan directs Frogs with a proficient, steady hand. To his credit McCowan does a fine job of generating a taut sense of crawling, slithering menace which culminates in a number of largely bloodless but powerfully macabre set-piece deaths. Unsympathetic characters find themselves on the receiving end of a rather sticky comeuppance as they are fatally bitten by venomous snakes and spiders or gobbled up by peckish alligators.

These scenes are lent an air of dread by the omnipresent, overseeing presence of the frogs. While few would ever seriously classify frogs as “scary” animals, McCowan makes fine use of close-up shots of the creatures – their cold, lifeless eyes seemingly contemplating with a chilling satisfaction the murderous antics of their slithery cohorts. This is accentuated by masterful use of soundtrack, which blends the low-key tunings of regular AIP composer Les Baxter seamlessly with the unrelenting croaks, calls and rustling of the swamps inhabitants to create an inescapable sense of a slimy, green menace lurking just outside of camera shot.

In a funny aside it should be mentioned that utilising the services of so many genuine mini-beasts bought with it a couple of rather unique production problems. Firstly problems arose when the Florida Holiday Inn where the films crew were staying got into a right flap over the thought of venomous snakes and spiders finding their way into the hotel. Greater problems arose however, when many of the huge number of frogs and giant South American toads bought in for filming decided the showbiz lifestyle was not for them and promptly escaped back into the wild.

Frogs also benefits from some more elaborate than usual characterisation for a film of its ilk. Indeed the Crockett family are entangled in a veritable spiders web of simmering, barely concealed resentment that is as much to blame for their eventual demise as the beasties by whose teeth and claws they meet it. This is enhanced by generally solid performances who could perhaps sense that McCowan and company were setting out with the intention of making more than just silly trash. The undoubted star of the show is Ray Milland – something else as the Crockett’s dictating, crippled patriarch Jason. More a desperately insecure, domineering and unwaveringly stubborn old fool than a stereotypically cantankerous family head, Milland commands his every scene, Jason’s bellow proving enough the crumble the resolve of his snivelling family. It is his stubborn insistence to remain alone on the island that proves his undoing. The finale in which Jason is finally overcome by the frog horde is memorably flesh-crawling, making expert use of rapidly edited montage shorts set to a hellish cacophony of croaking. The look on Milland’s face as Jason realises he’s about to meet his amphibious makers is truly priceless. Elsewhere performances while hardly representing a thespian master class are universally decent with Adam Rourke especially good as Jason’s grown up grandson Clint who is rapidly descending into alcoholic, self pitying oblivion. Despite his star billing Sam Elliot really has little to do but manages to look and sound appropriately rugged whilst doing it and both Joan Van Ark (of Knots Landing fame) and ravishing ebony actress Judy Pace both perform well and make for decent eye candy.

Although Frogs for the most part holds up pretty well it is marked out as a product of its times by its forthright (and very seventies) ecological message. While never reaching the preachy depths of John Frankenheimer’s often mocked mutant bear flick Prophecy (1979), the message certainly isn’t subtle in the way that it is rammed home through endless shots of dead, withered animals and empty poison canisters. Attempts to glue moralising ecology to a conventional horror narrative have never proved successful and although Frogs never joins the regiment of wagging environmentalist’s fingers; this particular aspect of the film has not aged particularly well. The same could also be said of one particular scene around an hour into the film in which a group argument about leaving the island takes on an unexpected and unpleasant white versus black divide. Although there is a chance this was an unintentional err on the scriptwriter’s behalf, the taste it leaves – intentional or otherwise – is not a nice one.

For all its flaws Frogs all in all winds up a far more effective and entertaining little shocker than it really has any right to be. Thanks to some effectively staged shocks, good performances and skilfully upheld atmosphere of unrelenting, slimy menace Frogs succeeds in transcending the inherent silliness of its premise. There inevitably will be some viewers who will find the notion of frogs using some sort of psychic link with other animals to impel them to kill human beings a bit much to swallow but really that is all just part of the entertainment value. While perhaps not the stuff of nightmares Frogs is certainly periodically chilling and infinitely superior to most of the “animals on the rampage” shockers that would flood the horror genre later in the decade post-Jaws. Yes, for all the leaden-faced seriousness with which it approaches its subject matter Frogs is really just woolly, improbable hokum at heart, but it sure is fine, creepy fun all the same.

Also Try... Jaws / The Birds / Rattlers / Squirm / Grizzly / Day Of The Animals / Prophecy (1979).

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