I've seen a lot of Jaws rip-offs and killer crocodile/alligator films over the years, and can safely say that The Great Alligator is one of the lamest (even worse than Tobe Hooper's Crocodile). Not only is it wholly unoriginal, liberally pilfering ideas from Spielberg's film, but it's also extremely boring, a shame, because director Sergio Martino can usually be relied upon to deliver a reasonably entertaining time.
Martino's film is set in an unspecified tropical country, which one might assume to be in Africa based on the tribes-people and hippos, although some of the wild-life—orangutans, king cobras—suggest further east. Of course, alligators are only indigenous to the U.S. and China, so your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, in the middle of an unspoilt area rich with fauna, businessman Joshua (Mel Ferrer) has set up a luxury tourist resort, Paradise House, which promises to bring its guests closer to nature. Unfortunately, with the titular killer reptile on the loose (be it crocodile or alligator both species are mentioned), the guests get much closer to nature than they wish for.
It takes a long time before we get to see the 'great alligator', which the locals believe to be a vengeful god come to punish the white folk, but when we do it's a massive disappointment (or in the case of some of the shots, a miniature disappointment), the models inanimate and totally unconvincing. Martino should have compensated for his crappy croc (or alligator) effects with loads of splatter, but the film is relatively gore free, with just a little blood in the water and a few of the guests impaled by flaming spears when the natives go on the rampage.
As if a crap croc (or alligator) and almost zero gore wasn't bad enough, the film also suffers from annoying characters. The hero, top photographer Daniel Nessel (Claudio Cassinelli), is extremely irritating, continuously snapping away randomly at whatever he can, never once taking time to alter the settings on his camera, take light readings, or adjust the focus. Snap, snap, snap he goes, using up what must be a whole suitcase of film on nothing in particular. When he's not snapping away, he's putting the moves on hotel manager Alice (Barbara Bach), whose raison d'être is to be woman in peril, offered as a sacrifice to the river god by the natives. Bach is beautiful but wooden. Worst of all are the guests, a slutty mother and her annoying ginger daughter, a guy who thinks it's funny to pretend that he has drowned, and lots of people who dance badly to terrible music.
Martino ends this train-wreck of a movie with what is one of the most unintentionally funny moments in Italian exploitation: having massacred most of the guests who haven't been eaten by the croc (or alligator), the savage natives see that their river god has been blown to smithereens by Daniel, and decide to call off the killing, smiling cheerily at the remaining visitors as though nothing has happened. It's enough to give Italian schlock a bad name.
Martino's film is set in an unspecified tropical country, which one might assume to be in Africa based on the tribes-people and hippos, although some of the wild-life—orangutans, king cobras—suggest further east. Of course, alligators are only indigenous to the U.S. and China, so your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, in the middle of an unspoilt area rich with fauna, businessman Joshua (Mel Ferrer) has set up a luxury tourist resort, Paradise House, which promises to bring its guests closer to nature. Unfortunately, with the titular killer reptile on the loose (be it crocodile or alligator both species are mentioned), the guests get much closer to nature than they wish for.
It takes a long time before we get to see the 'great alligator', which the locals believe to be a vengeful god come to punish the white folk, but when we do it's a massive disappointment (or in the case of some of the shots, a miniature disappointment), the models inanimate and totally unconvincing. Martino should have compensated for his crappy croc (or alligator) effects with loads of splatter, but the film is relatively gore free, with just a little blood in the water and a few of the guests impaled by flaming spears when the natives go on the rampage.
As if a crap croc (or alligator) and almost zero gore wasn't bad enough, the film also suffers from annoying characters. The hero, top photographer Daniel Nessel (Claudio Cassinelli), is extremely irritating, continuously snapping away randomly at whatever he can, never once taking time to alter the settings on his camera, take light readings, or adjust the focus. Snap, snap, snap he goes, using up what must be a whole suitcase of film on nothing in particular. When he's not snapping away, he's putting the moves on hotel manager Alice (Barbara Bach), whose raison d'être is to be woman in peril, offered as a sacrifice to the river god by the natives. Bach is beautiful but wooden. Worst of all are the guests, a slutty mother and her annoying ginger daughter, a guy who thinks it's funny to pretend that he has drowned, and lots of people who dance badly to terrible music.
Martino ends this train-wreck of a movie with what is one of the most unintentionally funny moments in Italian exploitation: having massacred most of the guests who haven't been eaten by the croc (or alligator), the savage natives see that their river god has been blown to smithereens by Daniel, and decide to call off the killing, smiling cheerily at the remaining visitors as though nothing has happened. It's enough to give Italian schlock a bad name.