It’s been almost 70 years since the first of four film adaptations of Jack Finney’s 1954 novel The Body Snatchers was released and in that time we’ve yet to meet a single one of these so-called “snatchers.” I suppose that’s the point, since if they have to snatch a body, they don’t have bodies. This plays directly into the way the story, in its various adaptations, serves as a metaphorical horse to be hitched to any topical cart, the non-corporeal snatchers (presumably extra-terrestrial) view us as all-purpose vehicles for their…what? Bodies, minds, or souls? Don Siegel’s 1956 film, still considered to be the quintessential version of the story (though Philip Kaufman and Abel Ferrara’s remakes aren’t exactly chopped liver), actually conceals the answer behind budget compromises and plot holes: They are us, or we could be, if we don’t watch out.
Through the magic of Poverty Row makeup effects—which are suitably creepy in their viscous, analog solidity—we see clear evidence that the visitors grow and distribute vegetable-like pods, each of which eventually gives birth to a vaguely person-shaped homunculus. We know that, after a time, these clay-like figures take on our features, to the last detail. We presume that these fakes are taking the place of the townspeople of fictional Santa Mira, but while the remakes are far more explicit in terms of depicting the pseudo-biological processes, in a way that allows us to make sense of the whole operation, such things don’t quite bear close scrutiny in Siegel’s film. If the pod-figures become us, how is it possible that heroine Becky Driscoll (Dana Wynter) turns into “one of them,” in plain sight of hero Dr. Bennell (Kevin McCarthy)?
It’s precisely this inconsistency that makes the film’s metaphorical layer possible—a layer that’s weakened as each subsequent remake takes the bio stuff more and more literally (in the 2007 debacle, we’re even treated to CGI depictions of alien microbes taking over and doing their thing on a microscopic scale), in a bid to eliminate narrative ambiguity. The logical lapses in Daniel Mainwaring’s script for the Siegel version indicate a film without an absolutely airtight sci-fi conceit, but they also generate a narrative fog that can accommodate, as might occur in an evocative Val Lewton movie such as Isle of the Dead or I Walked with a Zombie (or, indeed, The Body Snatcher), sensations that are all the more vexing for their intangible qualities—a half-movie that takes up residence just beyond the periphery of our conscious awareness.
Under the flimsy, prosaic surface of this low-budget chiller there’s the plain, delicate insinuation that the people of Santa Mira go over to the other side not because they are replaced by whole-cloth dupes, but because they changed their minds, they bought in, the pods really did make their lives better, and now they want to share their revelations with you. This is the most disturbing spin on the “invasion” premise, because it still permits the simple, classical predator/parasite interpretation, but, at the same time, makes the infiltration total, because the snatchers don’t just take your body, your memories, your brains—they take you. All of you.
Image/Sound
Kino’s release is sourced from a new 4K scan of “the best 35mm elements available.” As such, there’s a slight difference in image quality between certain scenes, but the results still amount to the best presentation of the film to date. There’s a slight softness to the image throughout, but it’s rich in detail, particularly in close-ups of faces and the oozing pods. Grain distribution is tight and even and the high contrast ratio makes for inky blacks and increased visibility in the many shadow-laden sequences. The film is presented in both the 2.00:1 Superscope and 1.85:1 aspect ratios, with no difference in picture quality. On the audio front, the sound remains somewhat limited by the original budget constraints, but there’s a resounding depth to Carmen Dragon’s score and the dialogue and audio effects come through loud and clear.
Extras
Kino typically beefs up its supplements for more important releases, and the whopping four audio commentaries included here leave no doubt about their feelings toward Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The first two are archival tracks, including one with director Joe Dante and actors Kevin McCarthy and Dana Wynter, which is as jovial as the film is unnerving, and provides plenty of the behind-the-scenes anecdotes and production details as one could want. The second is with film historian Richard Harland Smith, who goes into the backgrounds of most of the filmmakers and actors who worked on Don Siegel’s film.
Of the two new commentaries, the one by film historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson is the more entertaining listen, with the two men, who’ve recorded dozens of tracks together, discussing their relationship to Invasion of the Body Snatchers and offering thoughts on its political dimensions and the various remakes and imitators the film spawned. The final audio commentary, with film scholar Jason A. Ney, is a shade drier and more academic, though still very informative, especially in his detailing of the differences between the film and Jack Finney’s source novel as well as his discussion of the visual effects and screenplay’s structure.
Along with trailers for this film and the 1978 remake, the disc is rounded out with a trio of featurettes: one on the career of producer Walter Wanger, another on the genesis of Siegel’s film, and the last with several directors reminiscing about the film.
Overall
Kino’s stellar new 4K is the only release of Don Siegel’s sci-fi classic that’s truly the real deal.
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