I have a vague, vague recollection of seeing 1997’s Mimic in theaters when it played during its original theatrical run.
Science Fiction and Fantasy have always ‘been my thing,’ and I’m a self-professed lover of traditional monster movies, of which the release arguably qualifies. I don’t recall the works of Guillermo del Toro really being a thing at that point in the storyteller’s career, but I suspect he wasn’t an unknown so far as Hollywood is concerned. Lastly, I suppose the real ‘icing on the cake’ was the inclusion of Mira Sorvino as the flick’s big bug lady. In my estimation, she’s definitely one of the screen’s loveliest faces; and – if I remember correctly – she was still riding a wave of industry popularity thanks to her breakout Academy Award winning performance in Woody Allen’s Mighty Aphrodite. So in corner of the cinematic universe, Mimic had an awful lot going for it, and seeing it was a non-starter.
Alas, I remember walking out of the theater and being a tad disappointed. Honestly, I can’t recall my specific reservations with it – I’ve rewatched it recently for the purpose of this review – but I believe I struggled with some of its proposed science (which I’ll discuss below), a handful of its production details (lots and lots and lots of shots in the dark), and the way it felt so strongly like a throwback to the screen’s simpler techniques in delivering monster movies. Age appears to have tempered my younger mind just a bit, and I’ll admit to enjoying it more now that I’m older (and wiser?) … and yet there’s still something that (snicker snicker) bugs me about the whole affair.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Three years ago, entomologist Dr. Susan Tyler genetically created an insect to kill cockroaches carrying a virulent disease. Now, the insects are out to destroy their only predator, mankind.”
Now, I’ve no problem admitting that I didn’t quite grow up like the other boys of my generation.
Chiefly … this statement applies to bugs.
While the others in school reveled in their escapades of capturing and domesticating such things as spiders, cockroaches, and the like, I really wanted nothing to do with them. I remember my front yard at one point being uncharacteristically filled with things like stick bugs (phasmids) and praying mantises; and I do recall even my sister and some of the neighborhood girls being fascinated by these crawling critters, but – again – such things rarely caught my attention unless it was to give them a wide, wide, wide berth. I’m quite sure I wasn’t afraid of them – though I did come across a massive spider stretching probably two feet in length once in a cornfield – and I merely let bygones be bygones when it came to the lives of insects.
Science Fiction and Fantasy have always ‘been my thing,’ and I’m a self-professed lover of traditional monster movies, of which the release arguably qualifies. I don’t recall the works of Guillermo del Toro really being a thing at that point in the storyteller’s career, but I suspect he wasn’t an unknown so far as Hollywood is concerned. Lastly, I suppose the real ‘icing on the cake’ was the inclusion of Mira Sorvino as the flick’s big bug lady. In my estimation, she’s definitely one of the screen’s loveliest faces; and – if I remember correctly – she was still riding a wave of industry popularity thanks to her breakout Academy Award winning performance in Woody Allen’s Mighty Aphrodite. So in corner of the cinematic universe, Mimic had an awful lot going for it, and seeing it was a non-starter.
Alas, I remember walking out of the theater and being a tad disappointed. Honestly, I can’t recall my specific reservations with it – I’ve rewatched it recently for the purpose of this review – but I believe I struggled with some of its proposed science (which I’ll discuss below), a handful of its production details (lots and lots and lots of shots in the dark), and the way it felt so strongly like a throwback to the screen’s simpler techniques in delivering monster movies. Age appears to have tempered my younger mind just a bit, and I’ll admit to enjoying it more now that I’m older (and wiser?) … and yet there’s still something that (snicker snicker) bugs me about the whole affair.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Three years ago, entomologist Dr. Susan Tyler genetically created an insect to kill cockroaches carrying a virulent disease. Now, the insects are out to destroy their only predator, mankind.”
Now, I’ve no problem admitting that I didn’t quite grow up like the other boys of my generation.
Chiefly … this statement applies to bugs.
While the others in school reveled in their escapades of capturing and domesticating such things as spiders, cockroaches, and the like, I really wanted nothing to do with them. I remember my front yard at one point being uncharacteristically filled with things like stick bugs (phasmids) and praying mantises; and I do recall even my sister and some of the neighborhood girls being fascinated by these crawling critters, but – again – such things rarely caught my attention unless it was to give them a wide, wide, wide berth. I’m quite sure I wasn’t afraid of them – though I did come across a massive spider stretching probably two feet in length once in a cornfield – and I merely let bygones be bygones when it came to the lives of insects.
So I do suppose that such latent memories may have fueled some of my disinterest with Mimic (1997). Director Guillermo del Toro both adapted (in part) a short story and directed the picture for the screen; and the storyteller’s singular ability to create human tales within some uniquely extraordinary circumstances was probably stretched to its limits, this project being one of his earliest studio experiences. Sadly, I think he may’ve expended a bit too much focus on the film’s supersized roaches, leaving the cast of literal human beings drawn up a bit paper thin here and there.
In Mimic’s preamble, audiences learn that a roach-born plague known as Strickler’s Disease has been wreaking havoc on New York City’s children. Crack entomologist Susan Tyler (played by Mira Sorvino) gets recruited by CDC director Peter Mann (Jeremy Northam) to address the problem; and, together, they come up with a plan to engineer a new hybrid of termite and mantis – dubbed the ‘Judas Breed’ – to initially join the bug collective, infect its members, and eradicate the species. Given that they specifically built these intruders to live a very short time, Tyler and Mann firmly believed that the Judases would die out in only a single lifespan.
However, three years later, evidence mounts around a series of vicious crimes terrorizing one borough of New York; and our chief bug experts – now married – slowly come to the realization that scientists also do in films of this type: nature found a way, and the Judases are not only still out there but they’ve enjoyed a few years of accelerated evolution. Now, these insects have grown to be as large as an adult human male; and they’re terrorizing the community that’s now beneath them on the food chain!
Again, I’m a huge fan of monster movies, but sadly Mimic doesn’t quite fit that bill.
You see, the traditional monster movie casts the seminal monster as a somewhat tragic figure. It never asked to come into existence, nor did it desire the shackles that human morality gets assigned to it by merely coming into being in our world. As a consequence, it does that which any like-minded thing would: it eeks out an existence to see all of its needs met in order to keep on living. Once the screen heroes rise up in opposition to it, the audience might even sympathize with the creature: why must it die when all it’s doing is all it knows, and why do those who designed the critter get off without so much as a punishment?
But in Mimic, del Toro captures and renders his oversized roaches in much the same way directors Ridley Scott and James Cameron did in Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986). Though they’re part of a hive network, we still see these species as individual forces of primal infestation; and they need to be dealt with accordingly. There isn’t an ounce of sympathy, and the only real emotional pang that gets screen time is that of Tyler when she takes herself (and Mann) to task for possessing the hubris to think they could control something that’s beyond their reach … namely ‘nature.’ As Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park (1993) reminds us, nature will always find a way, but apparently the vast majority of screen scientists are too dumb to recognize their place in the wide, wide universe.
Thus, Mimic lacks any real expressive core, reducing its prospects of being a monster movie and instead bolstering its prospects as little more than an unconventional Horror outing.
In Mimic’s preamble, audiences learn that a roach-born plague known as Strickler’s Disease has been wreaking havoc on New York City’s children. Crack entomologist Susan Tyler (played by Mira Sorvino) gets recruited by CDC director Peter Mann (Jeremy Northam) to address the problem; and, together, they come up with a plan to engineer a new hybrid of termite and mantis – dubbed the ‘Judas Breed’ – to initially join the bug collective, infect its members, and eradicate the species. Given that they specifically built these intruders to live a very short time, Tyler and Mann firmly believed that the Judases would die out in only a single lifespan.
However, three years later, evidence mounts around a series of vicious crimes terrorizing one borough of New York; and our chief bug experts – now married – slowly come to the realization that scientists also do in films of this type: nature found a way, and the Judases are not only still out there but they’ve enjoyed a few years of accelerated evolution. Now, these insects have grown to be as large as an adult human male; and they’re terrorizing the community that’s now beneath them on the food chain!
Again, I’m a huge fan of monster movies, but sadly Mimic doesn’t quite fit that bill.
You see, the traditional monster movie casts the seminal monster as a somewhat tragic figure. It never asked to come into existence, nor did it desire the shackles that human morality gets assigned to it by merely coming into being in our world. As a consequence, it does that which any like-minded thing would: it eeks out an existence to see all of its needs met in order to keep on living. Once the screen heroes rise up in opposition to it, the audience might even sympathize with the creature: why must it die when all it’s doing is all it knows, and why do those who designed the critter get off without so much as a punishment?
But in Mimic, del Toro captures and renders his oversized roaches in much the same way directors Ridley Scott and James Cameron did in Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986). Though they’re part of a hive network, we still see these species as individual forces of primal infestation; and they need to be dealt with accordingly. There isn’t an ounce of sympathy, and the only real emotional pang that gets screen time is that of Tyler when she takes herself (and Mann) to task for possessing the hubris to think they could control something that’s beyond their reach … namely ‘nature.’ As Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park (1993) reminds us, nature will always find a way, but apparently the vast majority of screen scientists are too dumb to recognize their place in the wide, wide universe.
Thus, Mimic lacks any real expressive core, reducing its prospects of being a monster movie and instead bolstering its prospects as little more than an unconventional Horror outing.
Still, that isn’t a bad qualification. As a theme park ride meant to scare riders silly, Mimic spends a great deal of time beneath the streets of New York City. The science is a bit fast and loose – these faux/roaches originally ‘mimicked’ roaches in order to infest the horde, and now they’re man-sized because they’re ‘mimicking’ you and I – but it works all well and good for the purposes here. There’s this expansive network of subway tunnels, previous levels of the past that serve as a foundation for the stone and steel towers that stretch to the heavens today. It’s dank and diseased with a great many species of insects and rodent life that spoil the air with stink and defecate whenever and wherever they like. Light manages to find small portals to shine the reminder that this ride will be ending; but the audience remain trapped within, at all times at the mercy of the merry mythmaker.
Under del Toro’s direction, Mimic functions just fine on that level. He plugs the script with small hints of greater characterization, hoping to build some connection for those who require such commitment. But in the end, I thought that Tyler, Mann, and the slim cadre of players were just too insignificant and highbrow for me to care about them. After all, didn’t they create this mess to begin with? Am I only to feel sorry for them now because they’re up to their elbows in giant roaches? Mankind deserved better than that, but good on them for seeing the error of their ways as it’ll likely make them better scientists for the inferior sequel.
My single greatest quibble with all of this lies with the picture’s score as penned by Marco Beltrami.
For those unaware, the nuclear proliferation of the 1950’s led to a whole slate of ‘giant insect’ motion pictures. A few of the more famous (or is that more infamous?) additions remain 1954’s Them (giant ants), 1955’s Tarantula (giant spider), and 1957’s The Black Scorpion (you guessed it … giant scorpion). Plus, oversized insects also got a bit of screen time with men and women being shrunk in size, ultimately finding themselves at odds with nature that had grown gigantic in the process. I think because del Toro likely wanted his film to pay homage to those crowd-pleasers of yesteryear, he and Beltrami possibly discussed – ahem – mimicking the tonal sensibilities of such simpler theatrical fare. As a result, there’s a lot of big, brassy moments in there, punctuating the sights and scares as they rear up; but it’s overblown to the point of near parody in a few spots. While I understand the choice, I’m only saying I found it more unintentionally distracting than it was truly entertaining.
Mimic (1997) was produced by Dimension Films, Baltimore Pictures, and Miramax. The film is presently available for physical or digital purchase (and streaming) via a variety of platforms. As for the technical specifications? Well … though I’m no trained video expert, I’ll admit that Mimic is rife with a lot of dark and/or night-time photography. I found several sequences a bit underlit (for my tastes), so keep that in mind when venturing into such quarters on your own. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended.
Mimic (1997) is about as serviceable a studio Horror effort as anything else that emerged from the late 1990’s; and that’s a testament to del Toro’s stabilizing hand at the helm of the action. Though photographed a bit too dark here and there, the picture remains a great thrill ride into the dark where you know you really don’t want to go but have to because that’s where all of the action is. Sure, it’s a bit predictable – hell, you damn sure know what’s coming thanks to an irrepressible musical score – but some might suggest that that’s half the fun.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Mimic (1997) as I watched the movie as part of my very own subscription to MGM+.
-- EZ
Under del Toro’s direction, Mimic functions just fine on that level. He plugs the script with small hints of greater characterization, hoping to build some connection for those who require such commitment. But in the end, I thought that Tyler, Mann, and the slim cadre of players were just too insignificant and highbrow for me to care about them. After all, didn’t they create this mess to begin with? Am I only to feel sorry for them now because they’re up to their elbows in giant roaches? Mankind deserved better than that, but good on them for seeing the error of their ways as it’ll likely make them better scientists for the inferior sequel.
My single greatest quibble with all of this lies with the picture’s score as penned by Marco Beltrami.
For those unaware, the nuclear proliferation of the 1950’s led to a whole slate of ‘giant insect’ motion pictures. A few of the more famous (or is that more infamous?) additions remain 1954’s Them (giant ants), 1955’s Tarantula (giant spider), and 1957’s The Black Scorpion (you guessed it … giant scorpion). Plus, oversized insects also got a bit of screen time with men and women being shrunk in size, ultimately finding themselves at odds with nature that had grown gigantic in the process. I think because del Toro likely wanted his film to pay homage to those crowd-pleasers of yesteryear, he and Beltrami possibly discussed – ahem – mimicking the tonal sensibilities of such simpler theatrical fare. As a result, there’s a lot of big, brassy moments in there, punctuating the sights and scares as they rear up; but it’s overblown to the point of near parody in a few spots. While I understand the choice, I’m only saying I found it more unintentionally distracting than it was truly entertaining.
Mimic (1997) was produced by Dimension Films, Baltimore Pictures, and Miramax. The film is presently available for physical or digital purchase (and streaming) via a variety of platforms. As for the technical specifications? Well … though I’m no trained video expert, I’ll admit that Mimic is rife with a lot of dark and/or night-time photography. I found several sequences a bit underlit (for my tastes), so keep that in mind when venturing into such quarters on your own. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended.
Mimic (1997) is about as serviceable a studio Horror effort as anything else that emerged from the late 1990’s; and that’s a testament to del Toro’s stabilizing hand at the helm of the action. Though photographed a bit too dark here and there, the picture remains a great thrill ride into the dark where you know you really don’t want to go but have to because that’s where all of the action is. Sure, it’s a bit predictable – hell, you damn sure know what’s coming thanks to an irrepressible musical score – but some might suggest that that’s half the fun.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Mimic (1997) as I watched the movie as part of my very own subscription to MGM+.
-- EZ
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