No, your eyes do not deceive you. The title is fairly unambiguous -
this is a movie about killer frogs. And, yes, it stars a young and fresh-faced
Sam Elliott, many years before he found gruff moustachioed fame as archetypal
western or military grumps in films like Roadhouse, Tombstone and The
Hulk.
He stars here as Pickett Smith, a blue-jeans Seventies environmentalist
whose trip into the bayou to snap photos of the pollution pouring out
of a nearby factory is rudely interrupted when the boozed-up son of the
factory owner knocks him into the water with his speedboat.
Apparently unperturbed by the loss of his camera, film and worldly possessions
to the slimy depths, he accepts an invitation back to the Crockett family
estate where the idle rich offspring of patriarch Jason Crockett (Ray
Milland) sulk and strop about, indulging in minor domestic catastrophes
and occasionally complaining about the noise from the mysteriously-expanding
frog population. Could this be some subtle foreshadowing of events to
come?
Yes. Yes it is.
Pickett is swiftly hired by Crockett Sr. and asked to investigate
the abundance of amphibians on the estate – and the whereabouts of
the groundskeeper who trekked into the swamp previously and never returned.
As you can probably guess, the AWOL worker is found nose first in the
mire, a variety of slimy creatures making their home in his remains,
and the inhabitants of the swamp begin their assault on man’s
disrespectful domain in earnest.
It doesn’t take a genius to work out that the biggest hurdle Frogs
struggles to overcome is the unavoidable fact that frogs just aren’t
scary. They’re not terribly dynamic or aggressive creatures, and
are not widely known for their man-eating appetite, so much of the movie
relies on stock footage of ordinary frogs simply having a sit down, croaking
in slow motion, while the music squeals desperately in an attempt to
create some atmosphere before cutting to the hysterical reaction of whichever
cast member is next to fall to the amphibian menace. The scene in which
the sight of a few frogs half-heartedly pawing a window causes abject
horror among the female cast members is pretty much par for the course – this
is a movie hamstrung from the start by a ludicrous premise.
The film even admits that frogs alone aren’t up to the task of
sustaining a horror movie, and so ropes in some more creepy swamp
creatures – snakes
and spiders mainly – to crank up the terror. While this is
entirely understandable, it does make a mockery of the title, though
it’s
doubtful many people would have turned up for a movie called Frogs,
But Mostly Snakes, Spiders Plus Other Sundry Swamp Animals.
Elliott looks the part, though he’s so well known these days as
a grizzled tough nut that it’s actually hard to recognise him as
the clean shaven eco-hunk, but his performance – like everyone
else’s – is wooden and unconvincing. For the sheer premise
alone, Frogs is a must see. That it stars a respected character actor
best known for no-nonsense tough guy roles playing a touchy-feely
frog-fighting hippy is merely a hilarious bonus.
Need to know: For a movie so clearly driven by the emerging environmentalist
movement of the early Seventies, it’s rather ironic that many
of the hundreds of frogs and toads brought to the Florida wetlands
for the
making of the movie escaped into the wild, thus changing the local
ecosystem forever.
