Ray Harryhausen

(On Cable TV, January 2021) You’d have to be willfully ignorant of film history not to see the obvious parallels between 1933’s King Kong and 1949’s Mighty Joe Young—in both cases, a giant ape is brought back from exotic lands to so-called civilization (i.e.: America, this time Los Angeles rather than New York) until there’s some inevitable mayhem—and a young woman saves the day. The resemblance was not accidental—much of the same filmmaking team was behind both movies, and there’s a clear intention in the later film to one-up the special effects of the first. In this respect, you can consider Mighty Joe Young to be a remastered version of the previous film, with just enough differences to be both familiar and interesting. What the filmmakers could scarcely have suspected back in 1949 is that the wunderkind to whom they entrusted the stop-motion special effects, Ray Harryhausen, would go on to become one of the titans of movie special effects. His skill is already apparent here—the special effects are still convincing, charming and filled with character, even to modern jaded eyes. The sequences are more ambitious than in King Kong, the integration with the live action more daring, and the details of the characters being animated as sufficient to give them a personality—something that would become a Harryhausen trademark. Some other aspects of the spectacular production still impress—nearly everything set inside the nightclub is very impressive from a filmmaking perspective. The film is also far more kids-friendly than King Kong—funnier, but more specifically graced with a happy ending that wouldn’t have fit in the earlier film. In other words, Might Joe Young may be closely affiliated with its illustrious predecessor, but it holds up admirably well as its own production. Rewarded with a Best Visual Effects Academy Award, it’s still a treat to watch.

(On Cable TV, December 2020) Many low-budget creature features were made in the 1950s and not many of them are worth watching today as anything more than examples of the Cold War obsessions of the time. It Came from Beneath the Sea would, at first glance, seem to belong to that category: a low-budget monster film taking what’s become a bit of a cliché (radioactivity creates a monstrous life-form!) and running with it until the spectacular climax. But there are at least two things that make it worth a look. First, a quasi-documentary approach in the first half of the film that gives it a nice 1950s techno-thriller feel: it’s not entirely silly, and the film’s cooperation with the military ensures at least a patina of realism on the result. The second reason becomes more obvious once the tentacle monster reaches San Francisco in time for the climax: Ray Harryhausen’s spectacular stop-motion work, doing its best with an “octopus” limited to six arms due to a limited budget. Taken together, those two advantages take an already adequate film to something worth watching if you’re looking in the corpus of the 1950s creature features.

(On Cable TV, August 2020) It took a remarkably long time for Jason and the Argonauts to deliver what I was expecting from it. Renowned for its Ray Harryhausen stop-motion animation, I was expecting a fantasy adventure with wall-to-wall special effects, or at least a continuous string of them. I was not prepared for a first half-hour of tedious Greek mythological babble, almost entirely absent any fantastic element. It starts building midway through, first with disappointing special effects (that bronze statue… ugh), but then with increasing confidence. It culminates in a captivating skeleton battle sequence that is easily worth the bother of watching the film. I probably overdosed on Greek mythology a while back and couldn’t appreciate much of Jason and the Argonauts, but the film gets better and better as it goes on, and has the good sense of culminating on a classic special effects sequence that’s still worth a look today.

(On Cable TV, June 2020) Fantasy films weren’t as plentiful in the 1950s as they are today, so the all-out thrills of The 7th Voyage of Sinbad made a mark on an entire generation, and for good reason. As a fantasy spectacle, it’s still potent today. The special effects alone are worth a look, considering that they’re from master step-motion animator Ray Harryhausen and there are a lot of them. His creatures are still remarkably effective today, carrying both menace and personality. It’s a good fit for a film that’s still filled with charm and perhaps even more so today, given the dated nature of it all—arch dialogue, overdone musical dues and rough-hewn optical effects can either feel old-fashioned or old-school, depending on your perspective. The adventure with an eastern twist is not particularly complex in matters of narrative, but that helps it stay perfectly accessible today. Considering the amount of work that went into illustrating Sinbad’s fantastic voyages, it’s not a surprise if the film clocks shorter than expected at 90 minutes or so. It’s remarkably obvious why The 7th Voyage of Sinbad is still considered a milestone of fantasy filmmaking’s history.

(On Cable TV, June 2020) There’s a way of seeing 20 Million Miles to Earth as nothing more than a standard 1950s creature feature, with enough stop-motion animation and landmark-destroying creature rampage to be emblematic of the era. Indeed, the script isn’t worth praising—it’s a mishmash of lousy science in which a mission to Venus brings bag the egg of a creature that grows up to attack much of Rome. But the fun of the film lies elsewhere—specifically with the stop-animation from Ray Harryhausen (who co-wrote the story) to portray the monster. Never mind that it takes quite a bit of time to get to the good parts of the film when the monster shows up: when it shows up, the film sharply increases in interest. (The Coliseum-set climax is not bad at all.) Harryhausen’s typically great animation helps this film stand apart from the pack, and ensures that it’s still at least slightly enjoyable to watch today. More than simply representative of its era, 20 Million Miles to Earth can be great fun to watch in the right indulgent frame of mind.

(On Cable TV, June 2020) Despite its silly-sounding title, Earth vs. the Flying Saucers comes across as a techno-thriller of the 1950s. It does splendidly exemplify the flying saucer paranoia of the 1950s—and as a result still keeps some charm even if you think that UFOlogy is a bunch of hooey. The plot and characters aren’t developed or executed as effectively as they should, especially given a promising start. But plot and characters aren’t the right reason to see Earth vs. the Flying Saucers—that would be the crude, yet effective special effects from the legendary Ray Harryhausen, with its prototypical flying saucers surprisingly well integrated into the scenes. The ending is an all-out special effects spectacle taking aim at Washington, DC monuments, culminating with the iconic capitol scene. You can see echoes of this film in many, many successors—consider watching this as a double-bill with Mars Attacks! Quite enjoyable in its own way, Earth vs. the Flying Saucers is best approached as an earnest and endearing time capsule of fears and wonders.