One of several Amicus science fiction films from the 1960s, They Came from Beyond Space is a curious minor effort that, although based on a novel (The Gods hate Kansas by Joseph Millard) seems to take most of its ideas from Quatermass II. As in that film (and the TV series it evolved from), we have an alien presence travelling to Earth in meteors and taking over the minds of scientists, quickly cutting off a village and turning it into a heavily guarded military compound where strange experiments are taking place. Only one (American) scientist – in this case Dr Curtis Temple (Robert Hutton) realises what is happening, and sets out to fight back against these alien invaders and their rather vague plans.

If this isn’t a particularly exciting film, it’s certainly not for the want to trying – a bombastic score thunders out continually as Hutton runs around looking intense, which certainly goes some way towards covering up the fact that very little actually happens. Hutton proves to be immune to alien takeover because he has a silver plate in his head, and so he teams with fellow scientist Farge (Zia Mohyeddin), who melts down his cricket trophies to make what looks like a colander, in a scene sure to reduce modern audiences to hysterics – with this helmet perched on his head, Farge looks more like a paranoid, tinfoil hat-wearing nutter than a serious scientist.

As with many Milton Subotsky screenplays, the dialogue is clunky and unconvincing, and as with many Freddie Francis films where he clearly didn’t give a damn, the direction is perfunctory, with some astonishingly stilted performances (it’s hard to see much difference between Jennifer Jayne as a normal human and a cold, mind-controlled alien). Yet despite all this, They Came from Beyond Space is never dull. It bounces along quite merrily, seemingly oblivious to its silliness, before reaching a pretty lame climax, and it may well have a degree of camp value these days.

And at least we can finally see the film as it was meant to be seen. Having somehow slipped into the grey area of public domain, for far too long the only versions of this film that could be seen were barely watchable washed-out prints. This new release is incredibly vivid – the opening titles are as loud as the soundtrack. If you’ve suffered through an inferior version in the past, this new edition will seem like a revelation. And if you are a fan of obscure British science fiction – a sub-genre of films that bear no resemblance to any other country’s sci-fi – they you owe it to yourself to check out this entertainingly disposable effort.

DAVID FLINT

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