Alternative title: The Ultimative Terror, The Terror, Mutant Monster,
Year: 1983
Director: Jackie Kong
Cast: Bill Osco (Detective Mortimer Lutz), Martin Landau (Dr. Garson Jones), José Ferrer (Lane), Dororthy Malone (Marge Smith), Ruth Buzzi (Virginia Lane)
Introduction:
I was wandering around the Unna film market, as one does, with the sole purpose of acquiring new cinematic trash. At one particular booth, I stumbled across a peculiar little oddity that had been on my radar for quite some time, but never quite enough to justify ordering it online. The film in question was Jacki Kong’s directorial debut The Being—also known under such wonderfully telling alternate titles as Mutant Monster, Ultimate Terror, or The Creature—released in 1983.
Titles like these already tell you exactly what you’re in for. I had previously seen Kong’s arguably most well-known film, Blood Diner (1987), and after briefly skimming the synopsis on the back of the DVD, this one went straight into my bag. You can hardly go wrong with an ’80s mutant monster movie—perfect material for bad-movie aficionados.
Later, I noticed the marketing quote printed on the back: “A rare find, grab some friends to watch this” — attributed to BadMovies.org. Hold on. A promotional blurb from that site? Had I somehow missed a review of this film there?
Thankfully, no. The quote apparently originated from some other site trying to ride on the reputation of the original. But either way: here comes The Being.
Plot:
Pottsville, Idaho. For a while, we’re treated to a tranquil view of the town’s main street at dusk, accompanied by a hyper-cheerful radio host who informs us that Pottsville is the potato capital of the world—and that a severe storm front is approaching. Both pieces of information are completely irrelevant to the story.
What is relevant is revealed in the very next scene via voice-over: Pottsville is really just another small town in the American Midwest—except for the fact that people have recently been disappearing without a trace.
We soon witness one of these disappearances firsthand. A young man flees across a desolate wasteland, pursued by an unseen force, and seeks refuge in a junkyard. He jumps into one of the abandoned cars and seems safe—until a slimy hand bursts through the roof. After a brief struggle, the unfortunate victim’s head is torn clean off. His body twitches a bit longer, crashes through a cardboard wall, and comes to rest against the nearest building.
The police arrive on the scene, but the killing spree has only just begun…
Review
This setup sounds like a textbook monster movie: a small town, some slimy, murderous creature, and a handful of ordinary people forced to confront it. And yes—spoiler alert—the origin of the creature turns out to be radioactive waste. Who could have guessed? This places the film squarely in the tradition of 1950s science-fiction B-movies.
Creatively speaking, Kong wasn’t exactly breaking new ground here. Even at the time of release, this premise had already been done countless times, and arguably even back in the 1950s it wouldn’t have surprised anyone. But when it comes to monster B-movies, no one expects emotionally complex narratives or shocking plot twists. As long as there’s enough slime, stupidity, blood, and trashy moments—as celebrated on sites like this one—fans of creature features are usually satisfied.
It’s also important to remember that this was Kong’s first feature film, made possible through her husband Bill Osco. Osco not only plays the lead role of police officer Mortimer Lutz, but had already been active in the film business for some time. He produced the insane parody Flesh Gordon (1974), among other projects, and his various sleaze films apparently generated enough cash to bankroll The Being.
Unsurprisingly, the budget was limited, which explains why the creature is barely visible at first, and later only shown in fragments—never in full glory. Still, at least we do get to see it eventually. Plenty of low-budget monster films don’t even manage that, merely suggesting their creatures’ existence.
Early on, the film relies heavily on POV chase scenes and glimpses of slimy claws, always accompanied by trails of green goo. Eventually, our hero Mortimer enters the picture, investigating the incidents while his racist colleague busies himself arresting a Mexican man for fishing without a license.
Everything ultimately builds toward a showdown involving the creature, Mortimer, his girlfriend Laurie, and the “renowned” chemist Garson Jones—played by Martin Landau. Yes, that Martin Landau: the actor who would later win an Oscar in 1995 for his portrayal of Bela Lugosi in Ed Wood, and who was already an established name in the 1980s. He had appeared in smaller monster films before, such as Without Warning (1980), but one still has to wonder whether he really needed this role.
He’s not the only Oscar winner in the cast, either. Dorothy Malone also appears in a small supporting role as a confused mother whose child has gone missing. She won her Academy Award in 1957 for Written on the Wind. Their salaries likely consumed a significant portion of the already thin budget, leaving less money for other production values.
Unsurprisingly, Landau and Malone are also the only performers who display anything resembling real acting chops. The rest of the cast is about as bland as the characters they portray, all of whom are strictly one-dimensional and undergo no development whatsoever. Mortimer is the hero, Jones provides “scientific” explanations, and Laurie… well, she’s just kind of there.
Laurie is played by Marianne Gordon, who had a small role in Rosemary’s Baby (1968), but later mostly worked in television. As for Bill Osco, this was his first and last leading role; afterward, he appeared only briefly in a handful of minor parts. The cast is an odd mix of seasoned professionals and complete amateurs, but given the material, the performances are perfectly adequate—very little is demanded of them.
The cinematography, on the other hand, is… uneven. At times, the camera moves dynamically and the monster’s pursuit of its victims is staged competently. But during the final confrontation, the action becomes increasingly incoherent. The camera often lingers on “something monstrous,” without making it entirely clear what the creature is actually doing. You know someone is being flung around or dragged off, but the geography of the scene is muddled.
The climax also drags on far too long and may test some viewers’ patience, especially since it doesn’t offer much in the way of spectacle. Which brings us to the effects.
As mentioned earlier, the film is stingy with its creature reveals, but it does deliver the aftermath of the attacks: severed heads, spurting blood, and torn-out hearts. The splatter effects aren’t particularly extreme, but they look decent and are competently executed.
The monster itself, however, feels like a cheap puppet. Since it’s never shown in full, its design remains frustratingly vague. Its face—featuring a single bulging eye—resembles a wobbling mound of flesh. It’s painfully obvious how often the filmmakers avoid direct interaction between the creature and the actors, instead hiding limitations behind frantic editing and tight close-ups.
There are also clear attempts to emulate Alien (1979). The creature’s saliva-covered teeth and even a subplot involving a missing cat evoke obvious comparisons.
Conclusion:
This probably all sounds more negative than the film actually deserves. Sure, the story and overall concept are pure boilerplate, a tired cliché that had already worn thin years earlier—but the film runs only about 80 minutes.
Despite the lack of surprises in its paper-thin plot, The Being remains a reasonably entertaining ride. There are a few effective splatter moments along the way, and the small-town atmosphere recalls films like The Blob (1958). It’s certainly no masterpiece, and without my personal weakness for this kind of monster trash, I’d probably rate it lower.
As it stands, though, I consider it a perfectly acceptable entry in the genre—one that doesn’t do much wrong, but also adds absolutely nothing new. Many viewers will likely disagree and judge it far more harshly.
For me, it earns a generous six beers on the rating scale. Jacki Kong could have easily made more films like this—Blood Diner was fun as well—but sadly, these two remain her only contributions to the fantastic genre.
