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.Cast Paul Christian (Prof.Tom Nesbitt), Paula Raymond (Lee Hunter), CecilKellaway (Prof.Elson), Kenneth Tobey (Col.Evans), Ross Elliot (GeorgeRitchie), Donald Woods (Capt.Jackson), Lee VanCleef (Corp.Stone), Steve Brodie (Sgt.Loomis), Michael Fox (The Doctor), Frank Ferguson(Dr.Morton), KingDonovan (Dr.Ingersoll).DEADLY CITY by Ivar Jorgenson filmed asTARGET EARTH(Allied Artists, 1954) You re all alone in a deserted city.You walk down an empty street, yearningfor the sight of one living face one moving figure.Then you see a man on acorner and you know your terror has only begun!So goes the original blurb in the March 1953 edition of If magazine for IvarPage 89ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlJorgenson s  Deadly City.The intriguing story of a depopulated metropolis must have suitably impressedproducer Herman Cohen, who subsequently bought the property and rushed it intotheaters less than nine months later.Cohen, who entered the camp-film Hall of Fame with his I Was a TeenageWerewolf in 1957, shot Target Earth in just seven days for the minuscule amount of $75,000. It was definitely a low-cost picture, he laughingly admits. I wish we couldhave had more money.We could only afford one robot and we made him do doubleduty most of the time.Yet even with the relatively low budget, Cohen resourcefully turned out asurprisingly compelling feature, one which adheres quite faithfully to theshort story.The tale begins as a small and diverse group of people awake one morning tofind themselves alone in a deserted city.All at once the commonplace becomesas eerie as the most haunted of houses.A vacant street, an empty restaurant,a ghostly subway platform with not a train in sight they all add up to abafFling mystery that seems insolvable. The audience had a lot of fun with the picture, recalls Cohen with pride. Even though we played it straight, they sat in their seats withtongues-firmly-in-cheek.They knew exactly what was going to happen next.The only thing I can hope to do with my audience is to let them have a goodtime and startle them now and again.When they re laughing the most, throwthem off-balance and make them scream.Cheap shocks notwithstanding, it is admittedly difficult to assess the motivebehind an exploitation film like Target Earth.Is it cheaply produced in everyway to cash in quickly on a craze, or is it the most esthetically acceptableproduct that can be done with minor resources?The answer, of course, is purely academic if the picture is entertaining.and Target Earth is definitely that.DEADLY CITYby Ivar JorgensonHE AWOKE slowly, like a man plodding knee-deep through the thick stuff ofnightmares.There was no definite line between the dream-state andwakefulness.Only a dawning knowledge that he was finally conscious and wouldhave to do something about it.He opened his eyes, but this made no difference.The blackness remained.The pain in his head brightened and he reached up and found the big lumpthey d evidently put on his head for good measure a margin of safety.They must have been prudent people, because the bang on the head had hardlybeen necessary.The spiked drink which they had given him would have felled anox.He remembered going down into the darkness after drinking it, and ofknowing what it was.He remembered the helpless feeling.It did not worry him now.He was a philosophical person, and the fact he wasstill alive cancelled out the drink and its result.He thought, with savor, ofthe chestnut-haired girl who had watched him take the drink.She had worn avery low bodice, and that was where his eyes had been at the last moment onthe beautiful, tanned breasts until they d wavered and puddled into a blur andthen into nothing.The chestnut-haired girl had been nice, but now she was gone and there weremore pressing problems.He sat up, his hands behind him at the ends of stiff arms clawing intolong-undisturbed dust and filth.His movement stirred the dust and it roseinto his nostrils.He straightened and banged his head against a low ceiling.The pain made himsick for a minute and he sat down to regain his senses.He cursed the ceiling,as a matter of course, in an agonized whisper.Page 90ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlReady to move again, he got onto his hands and knees and crawled cautiouslyforward, exploring as he went.His hand pushed through cobwebs and found arough, cement wall.He went around and around.It was all cement all solid.Hell! They hadn t sealed him up in this place! There had been a way in sothere had to be a way out.He went around again.Then he tried the ceiling and found the opening a wooden trap covering afour-by-four hole covering it snugly.He pushed the trap away and daylightstreamed in.He raised himself up until he was eye-level with a discardedshaving cream jar lying on the bricks of an alley.He could read the trademark on the jar, and the slogan:  For the Meticulous Man.He pulled himself up into the alley.As a result of an orderly childhood, hereplaced the wooden trap and kicked the shaving cream jar against a garbagecan.He rubbed his chin and looked up and down the alley.It was high noon.l uncovered sun blazed down to tell him this.And there was no one in sight.He started walking toward the nearer mouth of the alley.He had been in thathole a long time, he decided.This conviction came from his hunger and theheavy growth of beard he d sprouted.Twenty-four hours maybe longer.That mickey must have been a lulu.He walked out into the CrOSS street.It was empty.No people-no cars parked atthe curbs only a cat washing its dirty face on a tenement stoop across thestreet.He looked up at the tenement windows.They stared back.There was an empty, deserted look about them.The cat flowed down the front steps of the tenement and away toward the rearand he was truly alone.He rubbed his harsh chin.Must be Sunday, he thought.Then he knew it couldnot be Sunday.He d gone into the tavern on a Tuesday night.That would makeit five days.Too long.He had been walking and now he was at an intersection where he could look upand down a new street.There were no cars no people.Not even a cat.A sign overhanging the sidewalk said: Restaurant.He went in under the signand tried the door.It was locked.There were no lights inside.He turned away grinning to reassure himself.Everything was all right.Justsome kind of a holiday.In a big city like Chicago the people go away on hotsummer holidays.They go to the beaches and the parks and sometimes you can tsee a living soul on the streets [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]