At any rate, the ’58 version of the Blob is antiquated fun: long, stretched out dialogue scenes, off-camera deaths that leave everything to the imagination, 30-year-old teenagers working hand-in-hand with authorities to stop a veiled Communist metaphor. My wife kept making “jokes” about how old Steve McQueen was in the film. I say who cares: 28-year-old Steve McQueen playing a 17-year-old kid is still more realistic than whatever the hell transpires on The Bachelor each week.

I will say this for the film and its effect, my 6-year-old son wanted to watch it very badly, but after the Blob hit the hermit’s hand, he was gone. This is a kid who has several times watched Christopher Nolan’s Batman terrorize the Scarecrow with black ichor oozing out of his mouth (me = bad dad, I guess). To see him freaked out to the point of leaving the room due to technicolor pink, colored gel says a lot about why this gelatinous horror still remains in the public consciousness for so long.

So thumb’s up.