Review: The Blob (1988)

First, may I wish a very happy Thanksgiving to all. This review is coming in on the later side thanks to a (packed) week spent with family, for whom I am infinitely grateful—but wow, I need some sleep.

This is relevant to my review because unfortunately, the only time I was able to find to watch Chuck Russell's 1988 remake of "The Blob" was this morning on my way to the airport, bouncing down the icy New Mexico roads while I squinted at my phone screen. And boy. Never have I wished so hard to have seen a film in theaters.

As it was, I found it a little hard to let myself get properly scared by the Blob, between the popup ads and the pauses to check into my flight and shuffle through airport security. And yet, somehow, I still found the movie thrilling. If I had been in a theater audience, watching the horror unfold on the big screen in '88, I can assure you I would have sh*t myself.

All the rules I've so carefully cultivated for horror films in these reviews have gone out the window. "The Blob" didn't shy away from showing its monster on camera. It didn't play psychological games on my mind. It didn't even really seem too concerned with bigger questions about the unknown. It was just gross, plain and simple.

Alright, I don't mean that. Not really—it would be unfair to "The Blob," because it really is more than that. I mean, yes. The Blob itself is disgusting and terrifying and devours its victims in some truly graphic ways. But the movie also employed some important rules of storytelling: it gave us protagonists to root for and a twist we could gasp at.

I suppose an argument could be made that "The Blob" takes a little while to get into the action, but I wouldn't call the opening of the film "slow"—simply because I thought every moment of character development was worth it. From setting up the hilarious misunderstanding between Paul and Meg's dad to introducing the creepy-a** priest who might just bring about the end of the world, the beginning did an excellent job of getting me invested in characters I wanted to see survive—or in some cases, to die. Let me tell you, I have never been more satisfied by an on-screen death than I was when Scott got devoured hand-first while reaching down his sleeping girlfriend's shirt.

I have to say, I did take the surprise twist about the Blob's origins with a small grain of salt. I won't spoil it here, but I will say that the "sinister government agency" trope is a little too well-established by now—even if I know it wasn't yet in the Eighties. If I put myself in the mindset of a 1988 audience, I can absolutely dig it.

And now, the ending. One of the most satisfying we've seen yet in this class. No cavalry coming in to save the day, no chance or luck or coincidence diverting the threat to more fertile pastures (I'm looking at you, Snow). Just pure grit and determination on the part of our protagonists—heroic enough to sacrifice their own lives, smart enough not to have to. They survive, though many, many others do not. I appreciate that "The Blob" didn't shy away from racking up quite the body count (it is a horror movie, after all—I don't expect everyone to survive), and yet I'm glad that my two favorite characters made it out alive after saving everyone else's skin and demonstrating that they really deserved to beat that thing. Whether you see the monster as an allegory, a symbol, or just a giant gelatinous beast, I always cheer harder when the protagonists learn to defeat it through skill rather than luck, proving that the audience has been backing the right horse the whole time.

Then, just when you thought you could rest easy, our crazy-a** preacher returns, Blob remnants in hand as he prophesies the end times. I knew I couldn't trust that man ever since he picked up those shards outside the walk-in freezer, but boy—I didn't know he was that crazy! May I one day learn to tie up my loose plot-ends as neatly as Russell, and with as much shuddering impact.

Now, to sleep—where the nightmares await. Happy Holidays, y'all. Go see "The Blob."


Citations: The Blob. Directed by Chuck Russell. TriStar Pictures, 1988.