Leviathan (

1989

)

It's always odd to me how incidental aspects of successful movies are copied right along with the things that are obviously responsible for their success. Case in point, Alien (1979), would have probably been a solid film if it didn't center around a group of blue-collar, unionized workers. Had it revolved around a group of scientists or adventurers, or space pirates Alien (1979) still would have been a remarkable movie thanks to its fantastic monster design, believable sets, and sense of extreme isolation. Sure, watching what amounts to a crew of space truckers gave us a novel look at the far future, one often disregarded by Hollywood sci-fi movies, but it could hardly be credited with the bulk of Alien's success. Yet, when it came time for writers Jeb Stuart and David People to make their own spin on the concept they dutifully recreated everything about Alien (1989) with the only major difference being the setting, instead of transporting goods between the stars, their unionized workers were at the bottom of the sea mining silver. This is, of course, a distinction without a difference, as the bottom of the ocean is nearly as hostile to human life as outer space. About the only way, it's any safer is the simple fact that the commute back home is at least a bit shorter, measured in hours rather than months.

We open with the deep-sea miners just about to turn in after a long day of pulling silver out of the bedrock. Just as they are making their way back to the base though, one miner, Tony 'DeJesus' Rodero, suffers a malfunction in his diving suit that very nearly ends with his suit popping like a balloon under the oceanic pressure. The station's medical officer, Doc Thompson is nowhere to be found during all of this but fortunately the station commander, Steven Beck keeps a cool head during the crisis and guides DeJesus back to the station with only minor injuries. Beck may just be a geologist brought in to increase the mine's profits, but it's obvious that the past three months have given him more than enough experience behind the comm to cope with any emergency. Barring a freak accident, he'll likely bring the team home in one piece and with their allotted quota of silver ore. Too bad this is a horror movie, and a freak accident is all but guaranteed.

Still, we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves, as Leviathan is a film with a decidedly slow burn. We're going to spend the next forty minutes or so getting to know the denizens of Mine Shack #7, their idiosyncrasies, and quirks. It's a shame that except for Doc Thompson and Commander Steven Beck none of them have two personality traits to rub together. Most annoying, and most obvious is “Six Pack” who acts like he's on lone from a college boner comedy and is mostly concerned with getting drunk and/or laid. No easy task as alcohol is officially contraband and both the women on the station regard Six Pack with a degree of disgust and loathing. The other miners, Justin Jones, Tony DeJesus” Rodero, and Bridget “Bow” Bowman get less attention and have even less in the way of personality. Elizabeth “Willie” Williams, fairs better than the rest of the crew, if only because she has aspirations and goals outside of simply staying alive from day to day in her dangerous job. She's in training to be an astronaut, and I guess she figured that being on the bottom of the sea was the best way to prepare. Still, the supporting character who steals the show is the union rep G.P. Cobb, who is instantly believable thanks to his universal knowledge of contract bylaws and his ability to jury-rig any machine to an extent that it won't break until after he's off the job. He resembles every gray-bearded union worker I've ever met with his sheer determination to avoid doing any more work than what he is contractually obligated to. Moreover, he seems to be the only person in the mining shack whose there for a reason beyond simple financial gain, as he makes it clear that he loves it at the bottom of the sea. To him, the serenity of the isolated mining shack has a charm unlike any on the surface.

The ninety-day shift is all proceeding according to plan, minus a few clashes of personality between the crew and their green commander until Six Pack and Willie stumble upon a scuttled Russian ship called The Leviathan. Oddly enough, the ship is listed as being on active duty with the Baltic Fleet, meaning its presence on the bottom of the ocean is either a clerical error or a conspiracy. Beck and Thompson are inclined to believe the former until disaster strikes. You see Six Pack smuggled some vodka from the scuttled ship and shared a drink of it with Bowman. Before long the two of them are in the infirmary with a skin rash, and not long after that, they're both dead. Clearly, something deeply unpleasant was going on board the Leviathan before it was sunk, something the Russian government is eager to keep secret.

Beck and Doc Thomspon decide to keep Six Pack's death a secret from the rest of the crew, as it could only cause a panic. Instead, they opt to wait for their scheduled evacuation (though that has been pushed back thanks to a hurricane on the surface). This decision leads to perhaps the greatest scare in the entire movie. Jones enters Six Pack's sick room and innocently begins speaking to the man, unaware that Six Pack is dead. The audience, through manipulation not unlike what Hitchcock used in Psycho (1960) to make them root for the murderous Norman Bates, is initially made to worry that Jones will discover Beck and Doc's deception. However, as Jones is about to pull back the sheet covering the dead body, it jerks suddenly beneath its blankets. Jones leaves reassured that everything with his friend is fine, but the audience is left horrified. Why is the dead man moving? 

As it turns out the Russians were experimenting on their own sailors by putting some kind of biological weapon in their vodka. It's not made clear where exactly this stuff came from, but it causes anyone who consumes it to die and then mutate into a hideous fish-like monstrosity. It doesn't stop there though if the monster gets a hold of anyone it can forcibly incorporate their biomass into itself, eventually starting to look a bit like Legion/Granfaloon from Castlevania: Symphony of the Night [1997]. The monster is also damn tough to kill, as each individual piece of it is able to act independently and eventually regenerate a full-sized monster. The Russians realized what they were dealing with pretty quickly and intentionally deep-sixed the Leviathan to keep mankind safe.

In short order, the crew of Mining Shack #7 find themselves under siege within their own station. It becomes obvious that they've been abandoned by their corporate overlords on the surface when the rescue transport keeps being delayed again and again. If they're going to survive they will have to fight off the creature themselves. The crew gears up with an assortment of nasty-looking mining gear and started to get excited for all manner of gruesome dismemberment scenes. Too bad the film fails to live up to this implicit promise, and instead has the survivors battle the monster with flamethrowers exclusively. Why even show us the nasty-looking drills and buzz-saws if you're not going to use them? The only saw that sees any use is a tiny hand-saw that I would consider inadequate for cutting a 2x4. How lame can you get?

The talent of the acting is a bit uneven. Wellers and Crenna as Beck and Doc are, of course, excellent as you would expect from genre veterans like them. The supporting cast is less impressive, but for the most part they have very little in the way of personality or screen time, so there's little damage they can do. Some, like Ernie Hudson as Jones even manage to hold their own despite the shallowness of their characters. The real weak link though is Amanda Pays as Williams. Her performance feels a bit stiff and robotic, which is ironic given the fact that the films gives her a superfluous romantic subplot with Robocop (1987). I expect she was cast more for her generous physical attributes than her charisma, though the film handles them strangely as well. Seriously, it seems the only time this girl wears a bra is when she's showering! The film is already guaranteed an R-rating thanks to the oedipal epithet Beck hurls at the monster in the climax, so why not throw in a bit of gratuitous nudity as well? I can only assume it was stipulated by the actress herself or was the product of studio meddling as director George P. Cosmatos originally came from the Italian film industry, a place hardly known for its prudishness.

Of course, the real star here is none of the human characters but instead the impressive monster that is constantly mutating and adding additional crew members to itself. Sure, such a creature would have been considerably more impressive had this movie been released before The Thing (1982), and even seven years later it can't help but feel like a cheap imitation. However, at least Leviathan has the good sense to steal its monster designs from the best. Indeed, at times the creature can invoke a bit more horror than The Thing (1982) because in that movie the monsters were merely alien copies of terrestrial lifeforms, whereas here the creature is made up of multiple human beings, humans that at times seem to be conscious of their terrible fate. The idea that your body could be subsumed by a hulking abomination while your mind remains aware of the fact adds an existential layer to the monster's obvious physical threat.

Sadly, despite its many positive attributes, Leviathan goes off the rails in the last few minutes, once Jones Williams and Beck make a break for the surface. Initially, everything is fine, with them being promptly recused by the coast guard, but then out of nowhere, they are attacked by sharks. If you want to make a movie about a group of survivors being menaced by sharks, that would be fine, but it seems absurd to tack this onto the last few minutes of a film where these characters have already evaded an inhuman abomination. After watching the grotesque monster slaughter people for the last forty minutes, simple sharks are just not very frightening. This is why superhero movies start with them foiling bank robbers before moving onto battling evil aliens or cyborg armies. Horror movies and action films are escalation narratives, so it only makes logical sense to frontload the less significant threats.

Then the monster swims to the surface and begins to attack the survivors as well. This just makes the whole aside with the sharks all the more baffling, if you were going to bring the monster to the surface why not just start with that? Moreover, I was under the impression that the monster could not survive in the deep sea, which is why the Russians scuttled the Leviathan in the first place. If the monster can just swim to the surface with impunity how is it that nobody has found out about it up till now? Is there another creature lurking somewhere in the ocean depths waiting to strike? If that's the case mankind may already be doomed, especially if the monster can adapt its diet to fee on oceanic lifeforms. We may be dealing with a Gyo style oceanic invasion in a few years. Since the ending seems to be a conventionally happy one (Beck kisses the girl and punches out the annoying corporate overlord) I'm gonna assume that the writers never stopped to consider the implications. It's a pity a few more drafts of Leviathan's script could have given it an unnerving and ambiguous ending that would have left audiences with a sense of impending dread.