‘It’d be funny if life weren’t so sacred...’
There aren’t many examples throughout cinema history of a film being totally overshadowed by a remake but The Fly is definitely one of them. While David Cronenberg’s 1986 classic adaptation is beloved by everyone, Kurt Neumann’s 1958 original has been all but forgotten. Deservedly so it has to be said…
Mad scientist André Delambre (David Hedison) accidentally turns himself into a fly, much to the consternation of his long-suffering wife, Hélène (Patricia Owens), who eventually helps him to commit suicide. André’s brother, François (Vincent Price), learns the truth about his brother’s hubris.
The problem with this iteration of The Fly is that it sticks so faithfully to George Langelaan’s original short story. I read that story for this article and it’s only 19 pages long. This means that Neumann (who sadly died just a week after the film went into general release), plus writer James Clavell, cover every word of the book across 94 yawn-inducing minutes, with the rest of the plot padded out by endless scenes of various characters searching fruitlessly for a fly with a white head. More tragic is the fact that Price, an actor who instantly elevates anything in which he appears, only features in the framing device that bookends the film. The rest of the film is told through flashback, and without Price to liven things up, there is little else of note to report. André doesn’t start turning into a fly at all until the 45-minute mark, and by that time I’d long since stopped caring.
This version of The Fly, despite being financially successful, has very little to recommend it outside the presence of Vincent Price. Even an actor of his calibre can’t polish a turd – no matter how many flies are circling it. Having said that… the final scene is a belter.
