The Call of Cthulu (2005)
- Adapted by Sean Branney
- Directed by Andrew Leman
- Distributed by the H. P. Lovecraft Historical Society
This 2005 independent film adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s 1926 horror story is remarkable in at least two important ways. First, it’s arguably the most faithful adaptation of any of Lovecraft’s works. Second, being an independent film and lacking many of the resources necessary for an ambitious adaptation, the filmmakers found an ingenious conceit which allowed them to skirt those limitations.
Attempts to adapt Lovecraft’s stories go back at least as far as Rod Serling’s 1970-1973 Night Gallery television series, but have most notably been (very loosely) adapted by director Stuart Gordon throughout the 1980’s and 1990’s as Reanimator, From Beyond, Castle Freak, and Dagon. None of which, though, really dealt all that well with the subject matter. Lovecraft wrote about extra-dimensional horrors from outside space and time who predate mankind and would one day return to enslave it – or perhaps simply eat it. Lovecraft liked to avoid explicit descriptions of these horrors, preferring to allude to humanity’s inability to comprehend them and their bizarre environments, with most humans’ attempts resulting in madness. The Gordon productions of the 80’s and 90’s very much stuck to what audiences expected from horror films at the time – lots of foam-rubber entrails, fake blood, and naked Barbara Crampton. All good, but not really Lovecraftian at all. Gordon’s best attempt was Dagon, but even that movie used the title of one Lovecraft story to deliver a very loose adaptation of another.
The Call of Cthulu, though, is the canonical work in Lovecraft’s Cthulu Mythos. It has been highly influential throughout the last eighty years, but had never before been adapted to film. The story concerns the efforts of several characters, including an artist, an archaeologist, and a police inspector to unravel the mystery around the Cult of Cthulu. Since the Old Ones predate mankind, their cult is spread across the planet and exists in virtually every human culture. According to the story, “the stars are right”, meaning that Cthulu and his horrific city of R’lyeh will soon rise from the sea. Cult activity has peaked and it’s beginning to attract attention. After a lengthy investigation, the story ends with the surviving characters’ confrontation with Cthulu, where the creature is narrowly defeated and mankind receives another brief, several-millenia reprieve.
Well, maybe. There’s a good reason why it’s known as the “Cthulu Mythos”.
Here’s where the genius comes in. Rather than trying to overcome their budgetary limitations by using cut-rate CGI, the filmmakers decided to make a movie that looked like it had been produced in the writer’s own era – the 1920’s. It’s a silent film. All of the live-action footage is shot in black and white. Its impressively-large cast of characters wears period clothing, uses period props, and the spoken dialogue is conveyed via title-cards. The visual effects are largely created using models and stop-motion animation, although some digital compositing and green-screening is used.
For example, one of the sea-going scenes features an ocean made of flowing strips of fabric, fans, and glitter. The larger sets were built using scaffolding, plywood, cardboard, and cloth and they look fantastic, especially considering what they represent – a sunken city designed by malevolent super-creatures who don’t even need Euclidian geometry. The primary digital effect is a post-production method the filmmakers refer to as “Mythoscope” — a process to create realistic, period film exposure and “age” the footage through artificial wear and tear.
The Call of Cthulu’s 47-minute running time might seem a little short, but it’s entirely appropriate given the subject matter. I can’t verify the period-realism of the film’s original score, but it was composed and arranged in a manner thought consistent with films from the mid-1920’s. Overall, the film is a remarkable achievement – not only because it does justice to the source material, but because it’s so effective at creating the illusion of vintage film. Just for fun, though, try to spot the modern props which don’t fit with the otherwise anachronistic environments. I’ll get you started – keep your eyes open for the coffee mug.
