In England, Simon Oates is the head of Project Startalk, a small group of scientists who are searching for radio transmissions that might come from intelligent life in space. Oates was inspired by a childhood incident in which a strange, possibly alien, black box artifact dug up by his archeologist uncle triggered a vivid dream vision of being on a barren planet with two moons. For years, their progress reports have been singularly empty and Max Adrian, the cranky bureaucrat in charge of their funding, gives them ninety days to get concrete results or lose the project. Later, Oates and his colleagues (Zena Marshall and Stanley Meadows) discover a repeating transmission coming from the asteroid belt, though Adrian says that an asteroid is very unlikely to support life. That evening, while an accountant (Charles Hawtrey) is going through their books and a tea cart lady (Patricia Hayes) is dispensing beverages, a giant spaceship appears in the sky and pulls their small building up into space and attaches it to the bottom of the ship. A spindly Dalek-like creature seems to be testing their intelligence, though the humans suspect that it may be merely an "ultrasonic hallucination." They also run across the body of a long-dead humanoid, and soon stumble (literally) onto a transporter platform that sends them to a planet that is exactly like what the young Oates saw in his vision, which serves as a warning about a fleet of advanced aliens who will likely attack Earth soon. The black box that Oates had as a child is a repository of knowledge and power, and several are given to the earthlings; can they master the boxes and beat back the coming attack?
Doctor Who meets Thunderbirds in this rather juvenile low-budget sci-fi film from Amicus, a rival of Hammer Studios in the 60s and 70s. In fact, the whole thing is so silly that I'm surprised this wasn't a pilot for a kiddie TV series. Weirdly, the script is by John Brunner, a respected SF author who won a Hugo just a couple of years later for Stand on Zanzibar, an experimental novel which is still in print, and it's based on a novel by Murray Leinster, a pulp writer whose books also remain available. The plot may have some good ideas, such as the boy's vision and the concept of the black boxes, and the theme of aliens communicating to warn us about some danger is interesting, but the cheap production values (especially the Space Invaders climax) and the strained comic relief of the accountant and the tea lady hurt the film. Charles Hawtrey was a British comic actor well known for his participation on the Carry On series of comedies from 1958 to 1972, though I know him for a shoutout he gets on the Beatles' Let It Be album ("I Dig a Pygmy by Charles Hawtrey and the Deaf-Aids"). Patricia Hayes has a small part as the dog-walking old lady in A Fish Called Wanda. They add nothing much to the narrative except as the voices of non-scientists; I didn't get too irritated by them but I could have done without them. In a different era, they might have been played by Edward Everett Horton and Una O'Connor (thanks to my husband for that insight). Simon Oates' performance doesn't get much critical love, but I thought he was a good low-key hero. The other two actors practically vanish while they're on screen, but again, they don't give offense. Posters for the film reference a "virgin sacrifice to the gods," which is a 20-second scene that leads nowhere. Favorite line: Oates says, "The laws of the universe weren't made by an accountant," and Hawtrey drily replies, "Pity." Despite the title, there isn't really a moment of terror here. [Streaming]



























