Disney/Pixar’s ‘The Good Dinosaur’ (2015): Review

The Good Dinosaur sees Pixar’s infamous innovative streak shine through in its establishing scene, which poses the question ‘what if the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs never actually hit?’ Unfortunately, the innovation seems to stop there, and the film’s remaining hour and a half presents us with a rather bizarre amalgamation of realism and surrealism, partnered with an unoriginal and frankly rather bland plot. The opening scenes, which see a family of farming dinosaurs harvesting corn and feeding chickens, are initially somewhat difficult to absorb. The idea of witnessing the evolution of dinosaurs beyond the point of their extinction is an intriguing one, but the creativity feels somewhat lacking. It’s simply too inconceivable to imagine that they might evolve to follow almost the exact same customs as that of a human community – particularly when such activities require dexterous action beyond the capabilities of a clumsy, heavy-footed Apatosaurus. Still, these abnormalities aside, there was still hope for the film’s narrative – which sadly also feels somewhat uninspired, at least by Pixar’s standards.

Disney/Pixar’s latest effort introduces us to Arlo (Raymond Ochoa) – one of three Apatosaurus kids born to farmers Henry (Jeffrey Wright) and Ida (Frances McDormand). Unable to find the courage to accomplish tasks on the farm and ‘earn his mark’ alongside his siblings, Arlo is left discouraged, and given a new task by his father Henry to guard their corn silo from pests. He captures a caveboy, but lets him go out of fear. After Henry forces Arlo to face his fears and pursue the boy, Henry is killed by a flash flood. Upon finding the boy on the farm again, an angered Arlo chases him, but winds up swept away by the river, lost and alone. Arlo and the boy (whom he names Spot) then form an unusual friendship as Arlo attempts to pluck up courage and find home.

The story is your run-of-the-mill ‘journey home’ narrative – one which is accompanied by a less-than-subtle moral message about the importance of being brave (so unsubtle that the film may as well have been called The Brave Dinosaur). The establishment of dinosaurs as farmers grants the film at least some semblance of originality – when in actuality there’s little original about the film at all. What initially opens the film as a somewhat amusing gag – the bypassing of the fatal asteroid that allegedly rendered all dinosaurs extinct – eventually metamorphoses into a feeble attempt to provide justification for the typical Disney twee-ness we’ve come to expect from the company outside of the Pixar canon. So the dinosaurs talk – we’ve seen this before, and umpteen times at that. As a matter of fact, anthropomorphism is essentially synonymous with the average Disney flick, so this movie’s selling point of adorning dinosaurs with humanistic qualities is hardly a ground-breaking concept. Beyond this, the film feels disturbingly ordinary.

The visuals are unsurprisingly impressive. As with all other Pixar releases, The Good Dinosaur boasts photorealistic backdrops and such fine detail that it’s hard to tell that it’s all merely illusory. That said, the film’s visuals are at the same time unusual, in that the characters are cartoon-like in their designs. Of course, there’s nothing specifically *wrong* with these designs, but their juxtaposition with such an intricate and realistic-looking setting at first seems somewhat jarring. In fact, the film’s visual design acts as a perfect signifier for what’s ultimately wrong with the movie: it attempts to convey a serious message (and a somewhat heavy-handed, moralistic one at that) through an implausible, ludicrous vision of an alternate reality. Put simply, the idea is too surreal for one to become overly invested in it. As a side note, there’s no real *need* for the dinosaurs in this movie to be dinosaurs at all. In fact, save for their appearance, they’re *not* dinosaurs; they’re farmers. The only justification for their being ‘dinosaurs’ is that it’s more visually appealing.

As of yet, I might sound wholly negative, but in reality, I have to admit this film is enjoyable. For a Pixar offering, it is disappointing, but it has a certain unorthodox charm to it that engages you from start to finish. Aside from the half-baked concept itself, there’s nothing remotely surprising about the movie, but it’s certainly not the worst film ever made (and not the worst in Pixar’s canon either, for that matter). Ultimately, The Good Dinosaur lacks bite, and has consequently graced the silver screen this week with a whimper rather than a roar. If it wasn’t branded with the Pixar name, and didn’t invite such high hopes as a result, this film would probably be received with a fresher perspective. Sadly, that’s not the case, and The Good Dinosaur remains just that: ‘good’.

Image Source:

YouTube: The Good Dinosaur Official US Trailer 2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=daFnEiLEx70. Accessed 28/11/2015.

 

Monster Miscellany: Monsters, Inc. (2001)

Click the video link below for an alternative audio/visual review!

For me, Pete Docter’s directorial debut Monsters, Inc. represents something of a return to form for Pixar. That said, they never really lost their way as such. But their 1998 sophomore effort A Bug’s Life, even to this day, is seldom seen as a masterpiece, at least not by their standards. Personally, I find this to be a gross injustice, but by 2001, Pixar were ready to bite back with another wholly original hit – one which empathised with the perspective of the ever-demonised monster in your bedroom closet.

The film takes place in a parallel ‘Monstropolis’, specifically Monsters Incorporated, where power is generated by the screams of children in the human world, accessed by monsters through closet doors. The only problem is that these kids are seen as toxic contaminants, meaning they’re as terrifying to the monsters as they are to the kids. Our protagonist, James P. Sullivan, known by his co-workers and friends as ‘Sulley’, voiced by John Goodman, bears the title of ‘top scarer’. He lives with his assistant Mike Wazowski, voiced by Billy Crystal, and finds himself constantly at odds with his rival, the chameleon-like Randall Boggs, voiced by Steve Buscemi. One evening at the factory, Sulley discovers Randall has left an activated door on the Scare Floor, inevitably leading to the escape of a young girl, who is later affectionately given the name ‘Boo’ by Sulley. Naturally, after a chaotic visit to restaurant Harryhausen’s (get it?), Boo unknowingly wreaks havoc on the city, which goes into lockdown as a result. Before long (and without giving too much away), Randall’s secret plans are revealed, and it’s up to Mike and Sulley to save the day.

As usual from Pixar, this is a colourful, funny and endearing little masterpiece. The animation, for its time, is nothing less than spectacular, and the designs of the monsters and the world in which they live are exceedingly creative. Perhaps the greatest appeal this film has, however, is how human it is. The characters are all very believable, and incredibly well-developed. Even the most hard-hearted of stoics cannot help but shed a tear at its heartrending conclusion. On a personal note, this film in some way helped to define the era of animation we were in. Sure, since 1995 Pixar had never really floundered, but with A Bug’s Life not really getting the praise it deserved, and Toy Story 2 being a sequel (albeit a very good one), it was certainly refreshing to see a witty, original and exceedingly creative story hit the big screen – one which, in a sense, affirmed that we were experiencing something akin to a Pixar Renaissance – one that thankfully lasted a long time but unfortunately had to come to an end. From this period onwards, Pixar films seemed to maintain a certain maturity that no other animation company could match – so much so that I wonder whether there are in fact more adult fans than there are kids.

Ultimately, in spite of animation techniques having developed considerably since the Millennium, this film irrefutably stands the test of time. In addition to incredible visuals and top-notch voice acting, Monsters Inc has a supremely engaging story, underlined by a surprisingly mature message concerning corporate greed (one which perhaps even Pixar themselves could learn from in light of their recent spate of sequels). From that perspective, Monsters, Inc. pertains more so to an adult audience than it does to children, in that its roars still resonate. In simpler terms, it’s one of Pixar’s finest, and no less than a monster of a movie.

Images obtained from:

Monsters, Inc. [DVD] (2001) Walt Disney Home Entertainment.

 



 

The Life of Ray Harryhausen (Part Five): Retirement and Legacy

After Clash of the Titans (1981), there were a number of subsequent projects that were never realised, including two Sinbad feature films and a collaboration with Michael Winner entitled People of the Mist (1983). These projects were sadly abandoned in light of new computer generated graphics that were, by that point, beginning to push Harryhausen’s stop-motion techniques further into obsolescence. He retired in 1984, but occasionally returned to work for television specials and the completion of his 1952 fairy-tale short film The Story of the Tortoise and the Hare in 2001. In 1992, more than a decade after his final feature film effort, Harryhausen was presented with an Oscar, and in 2010, he was awarded a BAFTA. Additionally, in 2011, he was given a Lifetime Achievement Award by the Visual Effects Society.

The Story of the Tortoise and the Hare (completed 2001)

Until his death in 2013, he lived in London with his wife Diana. The couple continued to support the Ray and Diana Harryhausen Foundation (established 1986) until his death. The foundation protects Harryhausen’s legacy and preserves his many models. In 2010, a substantial portion of his collection was donated to the National Media Museum in Bradford. Ultimately, Harryhausen regarded himself as being the father of stop-motion animation, referring to Willis O’Brien as the grandfather of the genre.

Harryhausen inspired a substantial number of contemporary filmmakers and directors, including Steven Spielberg and James Cameron, and, upon his death in 2013, Aardman’s Nick Park credited him as being a “true great of stop-motion animation”, citing him as one of his greatest influences*.

He is survived by his wife Diana Livingstone, and his daughter Vanessa.

More info:

*BBC News. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-22441567. Accessed 23/11/15.

Ray Harryhausen. http://www.rayharryhausen.com/. Accessed 23/11/15.

The Guardian. http://www.theguardian.com/film/2013/may/07/ray-harryhausen-dies. Accessed 23/11/15.

Image Sources:

Clash of the Titans. [DVD] (2010) Warner Home Video, Burbank, California.

Jason and the Argonauts. [DVD] (2008) Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, Culver City, California.

 

Monster Miscellany: Dinosaur (2000)

For a Disney movie, Dinosaur (2000) represented something rather innovative. In fact, even when compared with today’s average Disney fare, Dinosaur remains something of a rarity. Consequently, there’s been some uncertainty over the years over precisely what canon the feature belongs to. It was only in 2006 when it was finally inaugurated into the Disney animated canon. Consequently this means that the animated classics collection is, at least in the UK, inaccurate, being as this film is omitted from it, and was subsequently replaced with C.O.R.E. Feature Animation’s The Wild (2006). The predominant issue is most often cited as that it was produced by The Secret Lab, a subsidiary company which is now defunct, and so was, for a long time, not part of Disney’s canon. Arguably there were other factors that contributed. Some might say it was because many of the backgrounds were in fact live action – but part-live action features have been accepted into the canon before, such as The Three Caballeros (1945) and even Fantasia (1940). Some may also argue that it was because it represented something of an anomaly, in that it is wholly computer-animated – although this argument is also problematic in that CG films and effects were becoming increasingly ubiquitous, demonstrated even in Disney’s canon by the likes of Fantasia 2000 (1999). Rather, I would argue that its overall neglect in subsequent years is its daring departure from the traditional. While the story isn’t the most complex, Dinosaur is more impressive than you might think, at least in the visual sense.

Disney’s 39^th animated feature concerns Aladar, a lone Iguanodon adopted by a family of lemurs. After their home is destroyed by a catastrophic meteorite shower, the remaining family members and Aladar stumble upon an extensive dinosaur herd in the middle of the desert, comprised of a large number of different dinosaur species. Led by the brutal and uncompromising fellow Iguanodon Kron, the herd heads for the nesting grounds, a safe haven where the dinosaurs go to have their offspring, keeping one step ahead of a pack of vicious Raptors, poised to feast on any strays. Aladar joins the elderly dinosaurs at the back – towering Brachiosaurus Baylene, Styrachosaurus Eema, and her, er, ‘dog’ Ankylosaurus Url. Struggling to keep up, Aladar assists the elderly dinosaurs and gradually develops an enemy in Kron. Events take a turn for the worse when two large Carnotaurs appear to be following too.

Firstly, I want to address a subject that often arises around dinosaur flicks – that of anachronisms. While Blue Sky’s blatant anachronistic juxtaposition of Ice Age mammals with dinosaurs was altogether too jarring (and frankly desperate) to be enjoyable in Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs (2009), Dinosaur’s use of a family of lemurs is somehow believable, despite the fact that they did not live alongside dinosaurs in actuality. In addition, the herd itself is comprised of a large number of dinosaurs, when in reality they did not exist in the same time frames. Regardless, visually, this makes the film more interesting. And speaking of visuals, this film is a real treat. For 2000, the film’s graphics are truly captivating. There’s such detail and realism, it’s hard to believe the film is 15 years old!

Plot-wise, however, the film is nothing special. The narrative is rather plain, but its characters and visuals do enough to maintain your attention throughout. In addition, the story is extremely similar to the Rite of Spring segment of Fantasia. The defeat of the Stegosaurus by the Tyrannosaurus in that film bears a direct parallel to the Carnotaur’s rampaging through the nesting grounds, while the scenes of their crossing the desert during a drought bear an even stronger resemblance to the sequence. Regardless, whether or not inspiration was derived from the segment, it works well – but it makes its unoriginality all the more conspicuous.

I will commend Disney’s resistance of the temptation to utilise a Tyrannosaurus as its predominant antagonist, resorting instead to the use of the more menacing-looking Carnotaur (so what if in reality the Carnotaur was far smaller… You have to allow some leeway for creativity!). Furthermore, the voice acting is top-notch, with D. B. Sweeney leading the cast. Of particular note is the character interactions and development of the elderly characters; they gel and complement each other beautifully. That said, the film’s primary appeal is indeed its visuals. Otherwise, there’s little of any innovation or interest despite its soundtrack, composed by James Newton Howard. Regardless, it’s not a bad film by any means. The plot’s simplicity and limited environments (even if they are breath-taking) ultimately prevent this from being an overly memorable experience. In any case, it remains one of Disney’s most profoundly underrated, even if its visuals are its saving grace.

Images obtained from:

Dinosaur. [DVD] (2000) Buena Vista Home Entertainment, Burbank, California.

 

The Life of Ray Harryhausen (Part Four): Latter Film Successes

Harryhausen maintained his success with the films The 3 Worlds of Gulliver (1959) and Mysterious Island (1960), but none have had such a substantial impact as Jason and the Argonauts (1963), which is almost universally perceived to be his greatest accomplishment. From a technical standpoint, it’s not difficult to see why, although much of the animation’s versatility could possibly be attributed to the movie’s overall direction. Although Harryhausen had considered adapting stories from mythology a decade in advance of this feature, he did not develop this concept until they had begun shooting for Mysterious Island.

There are many notable instances in this film. For example, the gargantuan Talos statue was animated so that he had slow movements in order to convey his towering height, while the hydra is slithery and serpent-like. Each and every animated model bears its own behavioural and physical characteristics, which is possibly why this film is praised more so than his others. The sequence featuring the skeleton warriors was particular excruciating, having taken more than four and a half months to photograph. It was sadly not a box office success, but it has since appreciated in value and become a classic of the fantasy genre. For more information on this film, click here: Monster Month Review: Jason and the Argonauts (1963).

Harryhausen’s next feature was First Men in the Moon (1964), notable for being the only film he worked on that was shot in widescreen (Panavision). Interestingly, one of the skeletons used in Jason was used once more in this film. The film is also notable for being the last for which Ray’s father made armatures. He passed away soon after sending the models to his son. The next significant film Harryhausen worked on was One Million Years BC. (1966), for Hammer Film Productions. The models used included a brontosaurus, an allosaurus, pterodactyls and a triceratops. It is the only film in which Harryhausen juxtaposed real creatures, such as lizards, with stop-motion models.

Clash of the Titans (1981)

After 1969’s The Valley of Gwangi failed to attract the attention of audiences, Harryhausen and Schneer returned to Sinbad with The Golden Voyage of Sinbad in 1973 and Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger in 1977. The gateway into Hyperborea in the latter was intended as a tribute to the gates in Willis O’Brien’s King Kong (1933). Harryhausen’s final feature was Clash of the Titans (1981), arguably one of his very best. Like Jason, Clash of the Titans was heavily influenced by mythology, and contained a variety of animated mythical creatures, including the Kraken, Pegasus the flying horse, and, most famously, Medusa – regularly cited as one of Harryhausen’s greatest animated models. Only one large model of Medusa (used for close-ups) was armatured, while two armatured figures of the Kraken were used. Harryhausen later retired in 1984. For more information on Clash of the Titans click here: Monster Month Review: Clash of the Titans (1981).

Image Sources:

Clash of the Titans. [DVD] (2010) Warner Home Video, Burbank, California.

Jason and the Argonauts. [DVD] (2010) Sony Home Entertainment, Culver City, California.
 

Monster Month Review: Clash of the Titans (1981)

As Ray Harryhausen’s final collaborative effort with producer Charles Schneer, it’s needless to say that Clash of the Titans (1981) represents a significant high point in Harryhausen’s career. Unable to compete with rising technological innovations in film, Harryhausen retired in 1984, rendering this feature his final completed feature-length project. In addition, fantasy writer Ray Bradbury proffers that the scenes with Medusa represent some of his best photographic work*, and is consequently seen by some as one of his crowning achievements. Ultimately, this is a true monster of a movie, and one which demonstrates some of the best work of the late, great Ray Harryhausen.

The story is nothing overly innovative. Based upon Greek myth, the narrative follows Perseus (Harry Hamlin), son of Zeus (Laurence Olivier), in his attempt to save Princess Andromeda (Judi Bowker) from the vengeful Thetis (Maggie Smith), whose son Zeus transformed into a hideous satyr, leading to his eventual exile. Naturally, the film’s greatest appeal is its visuals. The plot, meanwhile, is fairly simplistic and derivative, but remains consistently compelling due to the painstaking work of Harryhausen, whose stop-motion techniques, by this instalment, had achieved near-perfection.

In terms of the visuals, there are more than enough scenes here that are of note. Amongst the highlights is Pegasus, the winged horse, representing a seamless combination of live action and special effects. By today’s standards, it might look somewhat jerky and stilted, but these hindrances aside, it is no less captivating. For me, personally, the highlight of the film is not Pegasus, however, nor is it the terrifying, blood-curdling Medusa, but the attack of the giant scorpions. Perhaps it’s because their juxtaposition with live action, sword-bearing actors is near-flawless, or perhaps it’s because their movements simply appear more convincing based on their anatomic structure and insect-like movements. In any case, the scene is nonetheless dark and gripping – not to mention that it represents possibly one of Harryhausen’s most exhilarating illusions on film, at least in this humble viewer’s opinion.

Furthermore, it has to be said that even the most advanced visuals of contemporary film often cannot appear convincing enough to make up for a plot devoid of originality. In that sense, the film itself does not date all that substantially. The armatured models in this feature are incredibly detailed, and the illusion glorious. Whereas previous films such as It Came From Beneath the Sea (1955) present us with the obvious alternating between small models and live action, not to mention the conspicuous use of a green screen, this feature, by comparison, represents a substantial advancement, in that the juxtaposition of actor and model is seamless; a tremendous feat considering the techniques applied and the film’s age.

Even by comparison with contemporary techniques, Clash of the Titans represents a tremendous effort. Not only is it Harryhausen’s swansong, it is a triumph in stop-motion animation history and one which, despite its frequent reappearance in TV afternoon schedules, is commonly overlooked. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that the techniques were already, by that time, becoming somewhat rather dated. In any case, even in retrospect, the techniques applied are noticeably painstaking, with such supreme attention to detail, and standards that today’s almost wholly digital environment would struggle to meet. The plot might not be anything overly memorable, nor is the acting of any significant merit, but the visuals truly propel the film to unprecedented heights; a fitting farewell to the hugely influential work of Ray Harryhausen, and one of many focal points concerning the evolution of the now-ubiquitous fantasy genre. Truly titanic.

Sources:

*Ray Harryhausen Biography: http://www.rayharryhausen.com/biography.php

Image Sources:

Clash of the Titans. [DVD] (2010) Warner Home Video, Burbank, California.

Monster Month Review: Jason and the Argonauts (1963)

Often regarded as a special effects, stop-motion masterpiece, Jason and the Argonauts is one of the more renowned entries in the Schneer-Harryhausen canon. The reason for this is that it showcases Harryhausen at his very best. With that in mind, the only major difference between this film and the ones that preceded it, however, is its diversity; its varied storyline permitted Harryhausen to exercise his versatility by executing a range of behavioural characteristics through an array of very different armatured models, and as a result, the film is lauded more so than any other.

The film focuses on Greek hero Jason (Todd Armstrong), who leads a crew, guided by goddess Hera, to Colchis to find the Golden Fleece. During the adventure, they encounter harpies, a giant bronze statue of Talos, the hydra, and an army of skeleton warriors. Needless to say, the effects are what make the film so memorable, notably due to the sheer range of the creatures the crew encounters.

The acting is altogether rather wooden – so much so that the statue that attacks the crew early on in the film showcases a greater range. It’s evident that Armstrong was either given very little direction in his role, or (more likely) the practice of juxtaposing live action against animated superimpositions was something of an alien concept to him. Regardless, much of his action scenes see him aimlessly waving his sword about in the air, from which his stop-motion nemeses melodramatically flail in helpless surrender. It looks indisputably crummy, but charming all the same. That said, the animation itself is spectacularly advanced for its time. Some even consider Harryhausen’s conclusive skeleton battle sequence to be his crowning achievement – and indeed, the sequence is near-flawless. Naturally, by comparison with today’s overused computer effects, it looks somewhat dated. Nevertheless, it remains surprisingly convincing; the fact that the sequence took in advance of four months to photograph truly paid off.

In spite of this, compared to Harryhausen’s other work, there’s little that’s uniquely striking about it per se. It’s extremely elaborate, and the models are no less than outstanding, but one must give credit to the film’s overall directorial process. Perhaps the reason for the heaps of appraisal this film has received over the years is related more so to the sheer substantiality of the effects. Whereas the animated sequences of earlier films in the Schneer/Harryhausen canon were far more minimal, by comparison, Jason and the Argonauts showcases a detailed observation and execution of various behavioural characteristics of an array of creatures. Take, for example, the slithery, serpent-like movements of the seven-headed hydra, contrasted with the stilted, human-like jerkiness of the skeleton warriors. This film showcases Harryhausen’s capabilities as an animator, perhaps more so than any other, due to its sheer scale, thanks to the direction of Don Chaffey. In addition, there are far fewer live action sequences interspersed between the effects, which, considering the standard of the acting, is something of a blessing.

Speaking of the acting, there are one or two hilarious observations that are worthy of note, the first being Hercules’ (Nigel Green) rather effeminate flicking of his hair prior to saving himself from being sealed in a treasure chamber on the Isle of Bronze. How very masculine. And after Medea (Nancy Kovack) is rescued from a shipwreck, it’s remarkable how her make-up and hair remain completely intact despite the devastation; she looks immaculate. Perhaps I’m deriding the acting a little excessively – in actuality, it in no way disrupts what remains a compelling and exhilarating narrative from beginning to end, but there’s no question that it’s Harryhausen’s visual prowess that renders this film an inarguable monster of a movie. Put simply, Jason and the Argonauts showcases an uninhibited display of Harryhausen’s dexterous and versatile capabilities.

Images obtained from:

Jason and the Argonauts. [DVD] (2010) Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, Culver City, California.

 

The Life of Ray Harryhausen (Part Three): Early Features and Collaboration with Schneer

Harryhausen’s success can partly be attributed to his relationship with Columbia Pictures producer Charles Schneer, who, after seeing The Beast of 20,000 Fathoms (1952), formulated his own monster flick, about a giant octopus wreaking havoc on San Francisco. He contacted Harryhausen, who agreed to be in charge of the film’s visual effects. The film turned out to be It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955), which can be viewed in more detail here: Monster Month Review: It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955). Budgetary restraints meant that the octopus model actually only had six tentacles, a shortcoming disguised only by the monster’s partial submergence in water throughout the picture. Three larger models of tentacles were also utilised for close-ups. The following feature saw Harryhausen’s final ever collaboration with Willis O’Brien. The film was titled The Animal World, and was released in 1956. Another notable aspect of this feature is that it marked Harryhausen’s return to dinosaur animations. There was no live action footage included in the project, and the models themselves lacked depth and detail. O’Brien and Harryhausen spent a mere eight weeks on the animation process.

The second film produced by Schneer that Harryhausen worked on was Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, released in 1956. This was based primarily on alleged flying saucer sightings of the 1950s. Harryhausen was once again in charge of the visual effects, this time posed with the challenge of having to simulate vehicles in flight. The saucers themselves were made of aluminium and created by his father, while the aliens featured in the film were played by actors in latex costumes as opposed to animated models (likely due to budgetary limitations). For a more detailed review of this film, click here: Monster Month Review: Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956).

The following year, Scheer and Harryhausen unveiled 20 Million Miles to Earth (1957), Harryhausen’s final monochrome project. Initially set in Chicago, the film sees an unknown specimen from Venus, recovered on the shores of Sicily, which rapidly grows to gargantuan proportions, wreaking havoc on Italy. The feature’s most memorable scene is its climax atop the Colosseum. Two models of the creature (known behind the scenes as the Ymir) were made by Harryhausen – one small, and the other twenty inches tall, for its latter scenes. For further information on this film, click here: Monster Month Review: 20 Million Miles to Earth (1957).

Colorised version, 2007

Harryhausen then came up with a concept for a film based on the Arabian Nights, and wrote basic notes of a potential narrative under the title Sinbad the Sailor. In addition, he produced a number of advanced drawings, including pictures of the infamous skeleton fight that became a part of his subsequent 1958 feature collaboration with Schneer, The 7^th Voyage of Sinbad. Because of his unequalled skill and dexterity, Schneer had Harryhausen’s hands insured. Sinbad marked Harryhausen’s first coloured film, which inevitably led to further technical difficulties. The only model to survive was one of a skeleton – which was also reused in Jason and the Argonauts (1963). Sinbad also marked the first time the term ‘Dynamation’ was used to promote Harryhausen’s unique style of animation.

Images obtained from:

20 Million Miles to Earth. [DVD] (2008) Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, Culver City, California.

Earth vs. the Flying Saucers. [DVD] (2008) Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, Culver City, California.

It Came from Beneath the Sea. [DVD] (2008) Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, Culver City, California.

Monster Month Review: 20 Million Miles to Earth (1957)

By this point, Harryhausen and producer Charles Schneer had made a name for themselves as the creative force behind the modern monster flick. And 1957’s release 20 Million Miles to Earth certainly didn’t disappoint, at least where visual effects were concerned. It’s a pity the same cannot be said for the rest of the film, whose narrative, script and acting comprise what it quite possibly one of their most abysmal efforts.

The story revolves around the discovery of a cocooned Venusian creature off the coast of Sicily following the crash of a government spacecraft. A small boy retrieves the specimen and hands it to Dr Leonardo (Frank Puglia). Meanwhile, his granddaughter Marisa (Joan Taylor), a medical student, takes care of Colonel Calder (William Hopper), who commandeered the craft, inevitably leading to a predictable and ultimately pointless romance. Late one night, Marisa encounters the creature after its hatching, and before long the creature grows at a rapid rate, until it becomes a giant, wreaking havoc on Italy, resulting in a memorable finale atop the Colosseum.

There’s no denying that the visual effects steal the spotlight in this feature. Harryhausen’s armatured creature would perhaps be regarded as one of his most memorable offerings, had the story been engaging enough. The sad fact is that it’s not, for the scenes in which the creature is absent are flat, bland and, at times, tedious. What’s more, the Venusian ‘monster’ causes no harm whatsoever, at least without being taunted or captured first. The animation itself might be impressive, but the creature is hardly menacing, despite its hideous appearance. On a related note, the ending is altogether rather rushed, and its accompanying moral far too ambivalent to be taken seriously – the film’s resolution is horrifically unjust considering the fact that the Venusian alien doesn’t inflict any unprovoked damage throughout the entire feature. Perhaps this was the intention – to depict humanity’s uncomfortability with anything ‘different’ – but the film concludes on far too abrupt a note for that sentiment to be conveyed effectively.

Colorised version, 2007

Regardless, Harryhausen’s animation is expectedly effective nonetheless – even if nothing new or notable is showcased here. The concluding battle atop the Colosseum is filmically masterful, reminiscent, almost, of the quintessential monster movie King Kong (1933). Narratively, however, the film flounders considerably. Calder and Marisa aren’t even present for the final battle; they merely turn up at the end before heading out to dinner. No, really. Worse still, Marisa’s pointing to the beast and shouting ‘LOOK!’ after having entered the scene is equally ridiculous. I’m fairly certain everyone had already noticed the gargantuan lizard man wreaking havoc on the city.

In conclusion, yes, the script is at times laughable, and the story is surprisingly less-than-gripping considering what it’s about. One can perhaps assume that the film is supposed to maintain a moralistic standpoint on the reluctance of man to move forward – a narrative that resonates even in today’s culture, perhaps more so. But its moral gets a bit hazy amid all the special effects and faux-scientific jargon. It’s not a complete waste, however – rest assured Harryhausen’s effects render watching this film a less-than-monstrous experience.

Images obtained from:

20 Million Miles to Earth. [DVD] (2008) Sony Pictures Home Entertainment.