"It's him," he says matter-of-factly. "His hair's not combed."
Indeed, the Merrinoes seem to take Timmie's new state rather calmly, at least until the lad interrupts the beginning of an intimate moment.
Richard Eyer was a brilliant choice for the part of Timmie, not only because he had consummate Norman Rockwell freckle-faced All American kid looks but because he never overacted. His performance is completely natural and effortless, and he never makes a wrong move. Philip Abbot is equally perfect as the ivory-tower intellectual who can't answer a simple question except in multi syllabic jargon. An early scene where he launches into a lecture at the dinner table that sends both his son and his wife into glassy-eyed boredom is beautifully done.
The film could easily have drifted into farce, but director Herman Hoffman keeps a tight hand on both his performers and his camera. There is not as much of the "science lecturing" that characterized many SF films of the Fifties -- and when it is offered it not infrequently comes as a gentle parody of the real thing.There are some nice visual touches, too. After all power has been cut to the computer, it appears to be dead. However, as the last witness leaves it's "room," a single light begins to blink on its otherwise dead, dark processing panel.
As for Hume's script, it is light and witty and yet sufficiently suspenseful that it could never be taken for satire. Whereas in Forbidden Planet Robby tended to get all the really good lines, in The Invisible Boy there are plenty for everyone.
Equally entertaining is the way the characters take even the most off-the-wall events completely in stride, as if it were every day that your son became invisible or your computer states it can't make a judgement based on the information you've uploaded because your neuroses interfere.
