Island of Terror (1966) - Movie Review

"As far as I can tell, the body doesn't have any bones."

We went to the Galapagos Islands this year, which scratched another destination off of our world travel bucket list. While on the island of Santa Cruz we visited the El Chato Giant Tortoise Reserve, where we got to walk amongst a whole lot of giant tortoises.

A handful of the giant tortoises we saw.

And there were a lot of giant tortoises there. I mean it. Those things were everywhere. A sight that got me perseverating about 1966's Island of Terror, of course. What else would an aging horror geek like myself think about while standing in a wooded area filled with giant tortoises?

Which meant that, after returning home, I had the compulsion to pluck my Scream Factory blu-ray off the shelf and give it yet another watch.

Because Island of Terror holds a special place in both my monster loving heart and my childhood memories.

My heart adores it because, first, the silicates are really effective monsters, albeit ones that a contemporary audience might dismiss as a tad too goofy looking. But one does that at their own peril. Second, there is Peter Cushing's energetic and delightful turn as an avuncular bone specialist. Third, and perhaps most important of all, is the energetic and economical direction from genre stalwart Terence Fisher.

Observations that allow me a pitch perfect segue to my childhood memory of Island of Terror, because Scream Factory was kind enough to post the very scene that scared me out of both the living room and my skin.

The blessing and curse of my reality altering childhood memory embellished the moment Dr. Landers (Eddie Byrne) fell atop the silicate with an image of him wheezing "Help me" as his body deflated. But even without the embellishment that death scene is a hard one to sit and watch. Not only because Landers was a likable character, but also because of the creepy and nauseating sound effect of the voracious silicate dissolving and slurping up his bones. I hope the audio department earned a bonus for creating that potent sounding nightmare fuel.

That scene also put me off of chicken noodle soup for a short while.

What's funny about it now is that I had my younger brother finish the movie, so I could know how it ended. Which he was kind enough to do. But what I did not know was that this would be the one and only time Island of Terror would air on our local station(s).

I came to know the bitter frustration of finding and reading the synopsis in a TV Guide listing, which read, "Bizarre turtle-like creatures menace an isolated island community." Only to learn the movie was being broadcast on Channel 40, which was a Sacramento station we did not get.

So the movie eluded me until I was able to find a bootleg at a convention. By that time my only fear was that the movie would not live up to my traumatized childhood memory of it.

I was happy to find that it did live up to that memory, though. Sure, Island of Terror was nowhere near as terrifying to adult me as it had been to child me, but I could still admire the solid performances and Fisher's deft hand at creating an aura of mystery, tension, and outright menace on what had to be a tissue-thin budget.