This tends to get classified as sci-fi rather than horror, as befits what we think of '50s flicks, but the premise sounded pretty scary to me. Unlike Ant-Man or the Atom, the protagonist herein does not shrink voluntarily, nor does he regrow. And as the poster shows (although that exact moment never happens), his experience should not be watched by arachnophobes. I'm not one, but even knowing about the spider, I gasped when it appeared.
What I didn't know going in was how gradual and accidental the whole affair was. Scott just happens to be the only person exposed to a radioactive mist at sea. Neither he nor his wife Louise notices anything wrong for six months. You might call the slowness merciful -- it's not like he suddenly finds himself naked -- but it does no favor for his attitude. For the first maybe half of the movie, he is feasibly short, if infeasibly proportioned for that height (as is the alleged circus midget he meets), garnering unwelcome fame. By the time he can live in a dollhouse, he has to worry about forces of nature such as the household cat and...well, see above.
The story is not as ludicrous as I had anticipated. While modern science does not support the possibility of life as an inch-tall human, let alone one with a baritone voice (and modern doctors probably wouldn't tell someone to drink radioactive iodine for a test), writer Richard Matheson does try to keep things relatively sensible and serious. We feel sorry for both Scott and Louise.
Obviously, the special effects would not fly in modern cinema, particularly when images get superimposed. Sometimes Scott has too thick an outline; at one point, he's translucent. But errors like these continued to occur in popular fare like Ghostbusters decades later, so I give them a pass.
Even when he's tiny enough to turn from drama to adventure, things tend to move pretty slowly. This may happen in part to accommodate the first-person narration, which becomes more important on an intellectual level than you might think. (Don't ask me how Scott could talk to anyone anymore.)
I could tell up front that there were three possible endings: (a) Scott returns to normal size, (b) he dies, or (c) he makes peace with his condition. I won't tell you which, but any of them could hardly help turning out a bit awkward.
So far, the only other Jack Arnold movie I've seen is The Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954). I deem TISM far better on all emotional fronts. And offhand, it doesn't look like I'll find a match among the rest of his filmography.
Incidentally, the same DVD includes The Monolith Monsters (1957). I opted out of a double feature. The latter is apparently remembered for camp value, and TISM is good enough that you shouldn't go in expecting the same dynamic.
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