AT THE EARTH’S CORE

Following on from a montage of molten lava set to Mike Vickers’ excitable score, we meet upper-crust 19th Century English gent Abner (Peter Cushing). He’s at the centre of a jovial photo shoot, marking the maiden voyage of his newest scientific invention: the Iron Mole.

Or, to be more precise, a "high calibration digging machine". As Abner explains to a journalist, his intentions – with the help of his young American apprentice and financier David (Doug McClure) – are to bore a tunnel into the centre of the Earth … just to find out what’s there.

Without further ado, Abner and David climb into the phallic-looking Mole and start up the engines. With a TV monitor screen above their dashboard to help with their manoeuvres, they begin to drill into the nearest pile of rocks while the small crowd outside cheer.

Before long their machine has burrowed into the earth and is filled with dust. The pair pass out. When they wake, they find themselves crash-landed in a curious place where the sky is pink and plants are oversized. Surveying the area, they soon receive unwanted attention from curious bird-like creatures (read: men in rubber suits) who give chase.

Eventually David and Abner are caught by members of an alien race resembling prototype Klingons, and are thrown into a labour camp alongside a group of primitive-looking humans. David takes an immediate shine to one of its members in particular, the pretty Dia (Caroline Munro).

As events unfold, we learn that the bird-people rule over the Klingon-types and communicate their orders to them through the means of telepathy. The humans are being held as slaves, apart from Dia who has managed to flee. She’s a princess, you see, and she’s wanted by "the ugly one" – a beast with the strength of ten men – who is determined to make her his mate.

David, of course, wants to save Dia from such a terrible fate and get back home in time for his tea. But there are obstacles in his way: his captors, a fellow human known as "the sly one" who rivals him for Dia’s affections, and – worst of all – a land filled with huge, hungry monsters …

McClure, director Kevin Connor and producer John Dark were certainly busy in the mid-70s, shooting this alongside THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT and WARLORDS OF ATLANTIS under the watchful eyes of their Amicus bosses, Milton Subotsky and Max J Rosenberg.

As with LAND, this film was based on one of "Tarzan" author Edgar Rice Burroughs’ lesser-known works, translated for the screen by Subotsky. He was, of course, already proven by 1976 as being a proficient screenwriter with earlier work including TALES FROM THE CRYPT, DR WHO AND THE DALEKS and THE SKULL.

But nothing was quite as cheesy, or gleefully aimed at the Saturday matinee crowd, as his triptych of boys’ own adventures now being released onto UK DVD via Studio Canal (Freddie Francis’ 1967 flick THEY CAME FROM BEYOND SPACE is also getting a release). Fast-paced, willingly silly and clearly self-indulgent, these films were evidence of Subotsky, the seasoned pro, having fun with his craft (though note that Brian Hayles wrote the original screenplay for WARLORDS).

CORE was also to be Subotsky’s last credit as screenwriter.

True to form, it proffers just as much goofy, nostalgia-inducing fun as its counterparts. It does, however, go a couple of steps further in terms of cult appeal: the added inclusion of scream queen Munro and everyone’s favourite late British horror icon Cushing. There’s no denying that, as entertaining as McClure’s Yankee chest-beating and cigar-chomping are, the film prospers from their appearances.

Granted, Munro is a little wooden and reticent to add dimension to her nothing character. But she looks great and oozes natural charisma. Cushing, of course, brings a controlled mannerism that is as theatrical as it is effortlessly graced with gravitas. Even when laboured with such a nonsensical script (albeit, an enjoyably nonsensical one), his knowing sense of play brings a welcome measure of self-irony into the mix.

Parts of the script veer on racism, but I’ve no doubt the intentions were innocent. They’re a curious sign of the age of ignorance that the film was shot in, though.

Whereas WARLORDS and LAND were filmed on location in Malta and Tenerife respectively, CORE’s cast got the raw deal of filming exclusively on soundstages at London’s Pinewood Studios. The film doesn’t suffer aesthetically: it’s just as gaudy, cheap-looking and ill-composed by cinematographer Alan Hume. Just check out those sets and the Mole’s interiors, for example – I’ve seen better production values at my local Pantomime.

In keeping with this Z-grade look, the monster FX are anything but ‘special’. Special needs, maybe. Ian Wingrove and Charles Staffell were the gentlemen chiefly responsible for the distinctly rubbery histrionics. Bless them for their crude efforts: they help make this film the guilty pleasure that it is.

The film, as with its companion pieces, thrives on boundless energy and a high cheese quotient, insisting that its audience disengage their brains and give in to the delights of old-fashioned entertainment. Not a problem for those of us who thrilled to these films as kids in the 1970s, but modern audiences may struggle with lowering their expectations. Hopefully though, they’ll manage to smile knowingly and succumb to CORE’s rudimentary charms.

Studio Canal’s DVD presents the film uncut in its original 1.85:1 theatrical aspect ratio. It’s a 16x9 enhanced affair and looks largely clean, in good nick for its age and blessed with strong colour schemes throughout.

English mono audio graces the film and is also a solid proposition.

A basic static main menu page is at least striking for reproducing the film’s original poster artwork. From there, a static scene-selection menu allows access to the main feature via 8 chapters.

There are no bonus features on the disc.

A terrible film, or a brilliant film made in a hurry with a budget woefully incapable of realising its ambitions? Either way, AT THE EARTH’S CORE provides a level of innocent, almost awe-inspiring entertainment that your modern-day blockbuster could never emulate.

Review by Stuart Willis