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At the time of its release in Russia Amphibian Man was the most popular movie to date. Something of a pop culture phenomenon, the movie brought in 65 million admissions in 1962 - roughly the equivalent of a $520 million box office take in today's dollars - and spawned a hit song, "The Sea Devil." Based on the novel Chelovek-Amfibiya by the man called "the Russian Jules Verne," author Alexander Belyayev, it is usually classified as science fiction, but at its heart it is a romance. Set in a Mexican fishing community where rumors of a strange underwater creature are whispered by the locals, Amphibian Man revs up when some pearl divers come across the strange sub aqua being. The creature is quite a sight, complete with silvery fish skin, gills and enormous eyes. Freaked out, the divers race back to their boat where they jabber about their discovery to their boss, Don Pedro Zurita (Mikhail Kozakov). Don Pedro, unimpressed that they didn't capture the "sea beast," scolds them. Calling them cowards, he angrily shoves one of the divers back into the water. Too bad for Don Pedro that his reluctant girlfriend, Gutiere (Anastasiya Vertinskaya), witnesses his tantrum and is disgusted by his behavior.When Pedro forcibly tries to kiss the girl she dives into the water to get away from his unwanted embrace.
As she hurriedly swims away Don Pedro sees a shark making a beeline for her. As he leaps into a row boat to come to her rescue he is unaware that someone - or something - else is coming to her aid. In an amazing display of aquatic dexterity the Sea Devil wrestles with and kills the shark, saves the unconscious Gutiere from drowning before depositing her limp body on Don Pedro's boat and disappearing beneath the waves. A stunned Don Pedro can't believe the Sea Devil saved Gutiere, but sees a way to turn the situation to his favor. Back on the main ship he tells everyone, including Gutiere's father, that he battled the shark and rescued the damsel in distress. The girl's father, eager to repay his debt to his daughter's savior, convinces Gutiere to marry Don Pedro even though she doesn't love him. Meanwhile a journalist, Olsen (Vladlen Davydov), is doing some research on the Sea Devil at the home of Dr. Salvator (Nikolai Simonov) who, at first dismisses the idea of the beast as superstition and myth. Olsen, sensing something is fishy, presses the doctor for answers. Later, over lunch the doctor comes clean when discussing society and his ideas for the future. Taking Olsen into his lab, Salvator reveals a large glass portal to the sea. Salvator speaks into a microphone, apparently summoning something and suddenly the Sea Devil swims into the large glass tank. Olsen can't believe his eyes when the "mythological creature" removes his headgear and is shown to be a good-looking teenager. Salvator explains that the Sea Devil (Vladimir Korenev) is actually his son Ichthyandr - literally "Fish Man" in Greek - born with a rare lung disease.When the boy was just a baby the doctor cured his condition by replacing his lungs with shark gills. Not only did it save his son's life, but also gave birth to his plan for a perfect society, an underwater republic.
Ichthyandr, however, doesn't care about the underwater utopia or Olsen's interest or anything but Gutiere. Is it puppy love or guppy love? If Amphibian Man were just a romance about a half-fish boy and a beautiful girl it would be curious enough, but viewing it in its historical context adds an even stranger aspect. Russian films of the period didn't normally feature pop songs, dance numbers, exotic locations and sentimental love stories. The inclusion of all those elements certainly makes it a bit of a cultural oddity, although it's possible that the film's lush, non-traditional Soviet feel was the perfect stroke of counter programming needed to give it the mass appeal it enjoyed upon release in the U.S.S.R. Much of the draw of the film lies with the lead actors. Vladimir Korenev and Anastasiya Vertinskaya are both dark-haired beauties, which gives the film considerable visual appeal, but it is their performances that resonate. Unlike many genre pictures where characterization is secondary to special effects, Amphibian Man takes the time to create real depth with the main characters. Ichthyandr is no one-dimensional Man from Atlantis. He is not simply a lovesick teen pining for the girl of his dreams, but a man - albeit a half-fish man - capable of deeply melancholic introspection. Take a look at the reviews for American film counterparts to Amphibian Man - The Creature from the Black Lagoon to name one - and "introspection" isn't a word you'll see very often. Anastasiya Vertinskaya, already a popular actress at the time Amphibian Man was made, adds nice touches that elevate the role from that of love interest to pivotal character. In one fantasy scene she emphasizes the difference between her and Ichthyandr in a subtle but interesting way.
Dressed in a silvery suit just like Ichthyandr's, she swims alongside him, but as he glides gracefully through the water, undulating his body like a true water creature, she swims by kicking her legs - like a human. It is a small detail, but it ingeniously illustrates the huge difference between them. Photographed in Baku, Azerbaijan, the movie boasts high production value, although some of the special effects haven't dated particularly well. The effectiveness of the pivotal shark attack scene is blunted somewhat by some bad matte work, but other underwater scenes are breathtakingly shot. Overall the cinematography fares better on land. One sequence featuring Ichthyandr running through the neon lit city stands out as particularly memorable. Of course it wouldn't be a vintage Russian film without a philosophical treatise, but once again, breaking with the mold of its contemporaries, Amphibian Man soft-pedals the propaganda. Each of the male characters embodies a doctrine, but the messages aren't as cut and dried as they are in other period Russian films. Don Pedro, for instance, could be seen as the personification of evil capitalism, a Mephistophelian who gets what he wants by any means necessary, but in the end even he is revealed to be not such a bad guy; and according to one writer Ichthyandr represents "emotional communism." He's an innocent who doesn't understand why everyone can't share in the bountiful pleasures offered by life. It's close to communist dogma, but with a simplistic, naive edge. One of the pleasures of Amphibian Man is the way in which it plays with your perceptions of what a Soviet film from the period should be, both in terms of propaganda and style. Part Creature from the Black Lagoon and part Beauty and the Beast, Amphibian Man is a charming, multi-dimensional blend of crazy science - gill transplants! - and heart-tugging romance.