Galaxy of Terror is due out on Special Edition DVD and Blu-ray from Shout! Factory on July 20th, and is currently available for pre-order from Amazon.com and other online retailers.

The anonymous ‘Planet Master of Xerxes’ (a man whose features are obscured by orange light) orders a mission to the far off planet of Morganthus after all contact is lost with a starship there.  He hand picks the crew of rescue ship Quest without their knowledge, gathering a motley assortment of officers and engineers with variety of psychological conditions (one is claustrophobic, another traumatized by a past mission, etc.).  After a crash landing on Morganthus the crew begins to disappear, killed by their own subconscious fears after an ancient alien pyramid renders them all too real.

I fondly remember the salacious ad art for Galaxy of Terror, featuring a vulnerable beauty in scraps of clothing being menaced by a variety of unlikely beasts (including a buggy skeletal bat thing hovering with obviously impure intent), staring up at vintage late ’80s me from the seedy depths of the local rental store’s horror shelf.  Only elementary school-aged at the time, I’d never have dreamt of trying to sneak something like that passed my observant mother (the prominent cleavage on the cover would have stopped her cold long before she glimpsed the ‘R’-rating), but that didn’t keep me from wondering what horribly disgusting (and inherently exciting) events might dwell behind such an illustration.  I was a long time in catching up to the film, one of a seemingly endless number I remember passing over in youth, but it was easily worth the wait.

As it turned out, the ad art I so clearly recalled (commissioned by producer Roger Corman after the sad returns of Galaxy‘s intial release as Mind Warp: An Infinity of Terror) proved to be both woefully inaccurate in content and entirely appropriate in subtext.  There are no creatures of the sort advertised to be found in the film at all, many monsters as there are, and the colors in which they are rendered are far brighter than anything in Galaxy‘s dim, fogbound production sensibility.  The idea of a horrible monster sexually molesting a helpless female victim, however, is present and accounted for, a fact that left me more or less speechless in the midst of my first viewing.

Superficially a rip-off of Ridley Scott’s blockbuster piece of spacebound horror Alien, Galaxy of Terror owes a greater textual debt to Forbidden Planet and its monster from the id than anything else.  The central premise, of the relic of a forgotten civilization manifesting the subconscious of those who encounter it, seems directly influenced by the Shakespearean sci-fi classic.  The eponymous terror, on the other hand, is wholly modern in its dark and slimy aesthetic.

Much of the credit for that rests with one James Cameron, for whom Galaxy of Terror must have played like a dry run for his eventual legitimate Alien sequel.  Aside from providing an astonishing Giger-inspired production design, Cameron’s position as second unit director left him with the task of overseeing the film’s intricate and effects heavy kill scenes.  Viewers can expect a wide array of bloody carnage, with plenty of severed limbs, exploding heads and likewise nasty gags.  Nastiest of all is the deservedly infamous maggot rape, which proved offensive enough to earn Galaxy an ‘X’-rating in its first round with the MPAA.  Though trimmed a bit in its theatrical form the scene is still disturbingly titillating business, with a massive slime-dripping grub stripping the beautiful Taeffe O’Connell bare before literally fucking her to death.  Preposterous, unsettling and bizarrely erotic all at once, it’s the sort of one-off movie event that sticks with a viewer long after the film has stopped rolling.

As lensed by ace photographers Jacques Haitin (A Nightmare on Elm Street) and Austin McKinney (The Terminator, Escape From New York), Galaxy of Terror offers up as much in the way of stylish, palpable atmospherics as it does in trashy scares.  The barren landscapes of Morganthus, a flight through space and a spooky alien pyramid are all accomplished with elegant miniatures and good old fashioned process photography, the majority of which still holds up well almost thirty years later.  The art department was given a bit more money to work with than on the typical Corman shocker, even if not by much.  Styrofoam hamburger trays are still in evidence in some of the sets, though they’re not nearly so noticeable as in the later bargain-priced Forbidden World.  Soundly directed by Bruce Clark (Hammer) and cast with such recognizable names as Edward Albert (The House Where Evil Dwells), Robert Englund (A Nightmare on Elm Street), Ray Walston (The Sting) and Sid Haig (Spider Baby), Galaxy of Terror transcends a limp finale and remains one of the best of the Alien imitators.  Stylish and trashy in equal measure and in the very best of ways, this is one of the real gems of the New World catalog.

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A staple of video store shelves through the ’80s and ’90s and with a reasonable cult following to bolster its marketability, Galaxy of Terror makes its belated debut on domestic DVD and Blu-ray courtesy of Shout! Factory’s Roger Corman’s Cult Classics line.  This is a disc that was well worth waiting for and, like its sister release Forbidden World, offers up plenty of delectable extras for fans to chew on.

Transferred from a new high definition master in the original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.78:1, Galaxy of Terror shines, albeit dimly.  Anamorphically enhanced and progressive with deep contrast and strong detail, the image is a major improvement over the VHS and laserdisc editions of old.  The transfer does offer a few weak moments, the opening title card is distractingly noisy (unlike, oddly, the rest of the credits) as are a few shots involving highly saturated reds and blues, but looks great overall.  Damage is minimal, with speckles and dirt appearing infrequently.  Audio is a clean 2.0 stereo track, preserving the original soundmix (which contrasts quiet dialogue segments with jarring shock moments).  There are no subtitles.

Galaxy of Terror‘s supplements start out with a bang, with the comprehensive documentary subject Tales From the Lumber Yard: The Making of Galaxy of Terror.  An hour and three minutes long and featuring input from producer Roger Corman, director Bruce Clark, effects men Robert and Dennis Skotak and stars Robert Englund, Sid Haig and Taeffe O’Connell among many, many others, this is about as definitive a piece on the film as one could ever expect.  The docu covers just about every aspect of the production imaginable, from the concept to the writing to the importance of James Cameron to the proceedings.  Receiving more than its fair share of the screentime is the monster rape that has helped to make Galaxy such a popular cult title.  The special effects men relish in telling of how they brought a giant one ton maggot to life, while the victimized Taeffe O’Connell seems to have nothing but fond memories of the experience save for the chilliness of the slime!

Complementing the documentary nicely is a feature-length commentary track moderated by production assistant David DeCoteau and featuring effects men Allan Apone and Alec Gillis and actress Taeffe O’Connell.  This is a fun track with lively participants, and well worth a listen.  Other supplements are more traditional: three theatrical trailers (including one for the alternate failed release under the title Mind Warp: An Infinity of Terror), a pair of television spots and five image galleries of ad art, production stills, concept art and more.  Rounding out the on-disc content is a DVD-Rom accessible copy of the original screenplay (under the Quest working title and featuring a full three lines of dialogue for Sid Haig’s ‘Quuhod’) in .PDF format.  Packaging is of Shout! Factory’s usual high quality, with the disc housed in a sturdy clear standard DVD case with a reversible cover insert.  The accompanying booklet features a lengthy essay on the film by Rue Morgue’s Jovanka Vuckovic and a host of nifty film stills, as well as a reproduction of the theatrical poster art (complete with the “Hell has just been relocated!” tagline).

You’ll know whether or not Galaxy of Terror is for you from the moment the term ‘maggot rape’ first enters your vocabulary, and I can’t blame any number of people for being utterly offended at the concept alone.  But I’d also argue that the film offers more than enough merit to be worthy of reappraisal, maggot rape or no.  To each their own, I suppose.  Cult film and genre enthusiasts are heartily encouraged to check this one out, though the more squeamish among you would do well to keep the fast-forward button within reach.

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