Has there ever been as humorless a cheesy SF film as “The Green Slime”? One of the first things evident is the dedicated seriousness with which the cast approaches the completely dreadful script by Tom Rowe, William Finger and Charles Sinclair, (based on a story by co-producer Ivan Reiner- whose contribution cannot unfairly escape scrutiny for this offense) a dedication that is usually admirable, but after about an hour of petrifying earnestness one longs for a smirk, or a droll line reading or a wistful, knowing glimmer in the eye; anything to indicate the cast was in on the joke and not genuinely approaching the material as if it were a tragedy by the Bard. However, the yawning abyss formed by an attitudinal contrariness between the stolid solemnity of the acting and the campy dialogue everyone is forced to recite creates a disharmonious rending of tone that makes the performances seem even worse than they already are. The general premise is hardly original, with the notions of life forms entrapping a space crew and the idea that they feed off of energy already explored in “It! The Terror From Beyond Space” and “Kronos” respectively, but neither previous film was saddled with the ludicrous collection of cliches strung together that passes for dialogue, forcing leads Robert Horton and Richard Jaeckel to postpone action on possible doomsday perils while bickering like two housewives in a floor wax commercial.
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