The Being

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If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if nuclear waste somehow created a potato baby and then gave it a serious attitude problem, The Being might just be the movie for you. This 1983 creature feature is a glorious slice of low-budget nonsense, packed with terrible monster effects, over-the-top acting, and enough questionable filmmaking decisions to keep any so bad it’s good enthusiast grinning from beginning to end.

The monster itself is a spectacular achievement in looking absolutely terrible. It’s an ugly, lumpy mess of creature effects that seems to have been designed by someone who heard about monsters secondhand and decided to wing it. Fortunately, the filmmakers appear to have recognized the problem, because an awful lot of the creature’s screen time takes place in lighting so dark that you can barely tell what you’re looking at. It’s a clever strategy, really: if the audience can’t see the monster, they can’t complain about how ridiculous it looks. Well, they can, but at least they have to work for it.

Then there’s the plot, which seems to suggest that the only logical explanation for the creature’s existence is a spontaneous conception brought about by nuclear waste contaminating the local drinking water, resulting in some kind of mutated baby-potato hybrid. Does that actually explain anything? Not particularly, but trying to make sense of The Being is probably a waste of time better spent appreciating its sheer absurdity. The movie throws bizarre ideas at the screen with enough confidence that you almost want to reward it for the effort, even when the story threatens to collapse under the weight of its own nonsense.

Thankfully, The Being is exactly the kind of movie that reminds us why bad-movie fans keep digging through the bargain bins. The cheesy effects, questionable storytelling, and gloriously excessive performances combine into an entertaining mess that’s far more fun than its technical shortcomings would suggest. It may not be a great monster movie, but it’s a perfectly respectable piece of cult cinema for anyone who enjoys watching filmmakers swing for the fences and spectacularly miss. Just keep the lights on, because the monster certainly won’t be doing you any favors.

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