Okay, fellow tapeheads, let's rewind to a time when Italian genre maestros weren't afraid to throw everything at the screen – lost civilizations, rubber monsters, nefarious scientists, and a dash of Jules Verne-esque adventure. Flickering onto our CRT screens today is Sergio Martino's 1979 oddity, Island of the Fishmen (also known by various other titles, most notoriously the heavily altered Screamers for its US re-release). Pull up a beanbag chair, maybe crack open a Tab, because this one’s a delightfully strange dive into late-70s Euro-horror/adventure waters.
I distinctly remember stumbling across this one in the aisles, probably nestled between a slasher flick and a sci-fi epic, its cover art promising aquatic horrors and exotic locales. It delivered... sort of, but in that uniquely charming, slightly unhinged way that only Italian genre cinema of the era truly could.
### Shipwrecked into Something Strange
The setup is pure pulp: Lieutenant Claude de Ross (Claudio Cassinelli, a familiar face for Martino fans from films like The Suspicious Death of a Minor) finds himself shipwrecked near a mysterious, uncharted island after escaping a prison ship in 1891. Along with a handful of other survivors, he washes ashore only to discover the place isn't exactly deserted. Far from it. Lurking beneath the waves and occasionally shambling onto land are humanoid creatures – the titular Fishmen – guarding the secrets of the island’s ruthless overseer, Edmond Rackham (Richard Johnson, bringing his usual gravitas to even the pulpiest material). Rackham, aided by the beautiful Amanda Marvin (Barbara Bach, fresh off her iconic role in The Spy Who Loved Me), is exploiting the island's resources and its... unique inhabitants... for his own nefarious, slightly confusing, potentially Atlantis-related scheme.
Sergio Martino, a director who gave us gritty gialli like Torso and stylish thrillers like The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh, shifts gears here into full-on adventure mode, albeit one filtered through a horror lens. The atmosphere is thick with humidity and dread, blending jungle peril with the constant threat emerging from the deep. It feels like a lost Boys' Own adventure story that took a wrong turn into a creature feature.
### Creatures from the Cardboard Lagoon?
Let's talk about the stars of the show: the Fishmen themselves. Okay, look, these aren't exactly Stan Winston creations. Viewed today, the creature suits have a certain… rubbery charm. They shamble, they gurgle, they occasionally brandish tridents. But here’s the thing: they’re practical. You see those webbed hands grabbing at our heroes? That's an actor in a suit, giving the threat a physical presence that CGI often lacks. Remember how real those underwater struggles felt back then, even if the masks looked a bit stiff? There’s an undeniable tactile quality to these effects, a hallmark of the era. They might look goofy now, but they represented a tangible, on-set reality that filmmakers had to wrestle with, lending a certain weight to the encounters.
Interestingly, the film faced some challenges bringing these aquatic antagonists to life. Martino had to make do with the resources available, typical of Italian genre productions of the time which often stretched budgets to their absolute limits. The underwater sequences, while sometimes murky (perhaps intentionally!), add a layer of claustrophobic tension.
### Italian Exploitation Charm
Claudio Cassinelli makes for a capable, if slightly generic, hero, navigating the dangers with rugged determination. Barbara Bach is luminous as Amanda, caught between the hero and the villain, though her character feels somewhat underwritten. But it's Richard Johnson who truly sinks his teeth into the role of Rackham, delivering his lines with a theatrical flair that elevates the proceedings. His performance anchors the film's more outlandish elements.
The plot itself meanders a bit, occasionally getting bogged down in exposition about lost continents and Rackham’s motivations. Martino keeps things moving, though, peppering the narrative with jungle chases, underwater encounters, and a fiery climax involving makeshift explosives and volcanic eruptions. It's all gloriously over-the-top. A fun piece of trivia: the film was shot largely in Italy and the Caribbean, adding an authentic exotic feel to the island setting.
The infamous US re-release as Screamers in 1981, handled by Roger Corman's New World Pictures, is a fascinating footnote. They added a prologue featuring graphic shots of bodies exploding (lifted from a completely different Italian film, The Great Alligator!) and marketed it with the outrageous tagline "Warning: We dare you to see SCREAMERS without screaming... and we're betting you can't!" This misleading campaign certainly tricked some audiences expecting a gore-fest, but the original Italian cut (L'isola degli uomini pesce) is more focused on adventure and creature feature thrills.
### The Verdict: Still Worth Hooking?
Island of the Fishmen isn't high art, nor is it particularly scary by modern standards. Its pacing can be uneven, and the plot occasionally feels cobbled together. But what it lacks in polish, it makes up for in sheer B-movie ambition and nostalgic charm. It’s a testament to a time when practical effects reigned supreme, even if those effects involved actors shuffling around in slightly unconvincing fish monster outfits. The commitment to the bizarre premise, coupled with Martino's confident direction and Johnson's commanding presence, makes it a fun watch for fans of Euro-cult cinema.
Rating: 6/10 - The score reflects its status as a genuinely entertaining piece of Italian genre filmmaking, hampered slightly by budget constraints and dated elements, but buoyed by its atmosphere, creature design (love it or laugh at it, it's memorable!), and sheer pulpy fun. It earns points for ambition and that unmistakable late-70s/early-80s video store vibe.
Final Thought: It may not be the deepest catch in the cinematic ocean, but Island of the Fishmen is a prime example of that glorious, slightly goofy, practical-effects-driven adventure that felt wonderfully exotic and dangerous beaming out of your VCR late on a Friday night. Reel it in if you find it!