Posts Tagged ‘Columbia’


Mr. Sardonicus

May 20th, 2010 | article by | No Comments »
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company: William Castle
Productions, Columbia
year: 1961
runtime: 90′
country: United States
director:
William Castle
cast: Ronald Lewis, Guy Rolfe,
Audrey Dalton, Oskar Homolka,
Erika Peters
writer: Ray Russell
cinematography: Burnett Guffey
music: Von Dexter
Order this film from Amazon.com

After some carnival impresario-like mugging of our host (and director and producer) William Castle, the film introduces its hero. Sir Robert Cargrave (Ronald Lewis) is a successful Victorian physician and specialist in the treatment of paralysis.

Unexpectedly, Cargrave receives a letter written by the love of his youth, Maude (Audrey Dalton), who would have become his wife if not for a greedy father without the proper faith in Cargrave’s future career. Maude is now married to a certain Baron Sardonicus and lives in one of those imaginary Central European countries full of people with utterly incongruous accents I know and love from dozens of other movies.

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‘Gamera vs. Barugon’ and ‘Crack in the World’ on DVD, ‘Jason and the Argonauts’ on Blu-ray, all due out this July!

April 25th, 2010 | article by | 1 Comment »
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July is turning out to be quite a month for home video releases, and I’m certainly not complaining.

The second of Shout! Factory’s much-anticipated Gamera releases – 1966′s Gamera vs. Barugon – is due out on the 6th of July.  There are no specific details on supplements as of yet, but the film will be sourced from the latest HD master and presented in its original Japanese with English subtitles for the first time (legitimately) on domestic home video.  If Shout!’s Gamera, The Giant Monster is any indication then this is going to be a disc fans will not want to be without.

Gamera vs. Barugon follows a group of treasure-seekers who, in their greed, inadvertently unleash the monster Barugon (equipped with equally improbable freezing tongue and rainbow-shooting back spines) upon the world.  Arriving just in time to save the day is Gamera, recently extricated from the Plan Z rocket and minus a child sidekick for the first and only time in the original series of films.  The newly-released cover art for this release is to the right.  Gamera vs. Barugon is currently up for preorder at Amazon.com at a reduced price of $17.99.

Set for release on July 13th and making its world premiere on home video is Andrew Marton’s Crack in the World, a long-time favorite of this reviewer and one of the finest science fiction efforts of the ’60s.  The film stars Dana Andrews in one of his better late-career performances as well as Day of the Triffids alums Janette Scott and Kieron Moore and These Are the Damned‘s Alexander Knox, and features special effects direction by Eugene Lourie (director of Gorgo, The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms and The Giant Behemoth).  The story follows a collective of scientists who are on a race against time as an ever-growing fissure in the Earth’s crust, the result of a recent experiment, threatens to destroy all humanity.  Crack in the World is currently up for preorder at Amazon.com at a reduced price of $17.49, 30% off the SRP.

Finally (for this update, at least), more classic Harryhausen is on its way to the glory of high definition.  Jason and the Argonauts, arguably the best of the Harryhausen / Schneer co-productions and the former’s career favorite, will premiere on Blu-ray from Sony on the 6th of July.  Rather than paraphrase, I’ll just let DVDSavant do the talking for this one (thanks for the heads up, Glenn!):

“The word from London is that Sony’s new Blu-ray of Jason and the Argonauts . . . will have two special commentaries. A couple of days ago Peter Jackson and Randall William Cook recorded one track, commenting on all things Harryhausen. By the time this announcement comes out, Ray Harryhausen and Tony Dalton should have finished a second commentary in London. I’m told that the new Hi-Def transfer for Jason has been laid down at an appropriate 1:66 AR, which should make some highly vocal associates happy!”

Happy, indeed!  Sony’s earlier Harryhausen Blu-rays (reviews of which can be found in the archive) were all exceptionally realized, and I’ve no doubt that this one will live up to the high expectations fans will have set for it.  Jason and the Argonauts is up for pre-order at Amazon at the reduced price of $17.49, a savings of 30% off the SRP.

I’m looking forward to these, one and all, and Wtf-Film reviews can be expected in due course.



The Night the World Exploded

March 17th, 2010 | article by | 1 Comment »
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rating:
company:
Columbia Pictures
and Clover Productions
year: 1957
runtime: 64′
country: United States
director: Fred F. Sears
cast: Kathryn Grant, William Leslie,
Tristram Coffin, Raymond Greenleaf,
Charles Evans, Frank J. Scannell,
Marshall Reed, Fred Coby
writers: Jack Nutteford
and Luci Ward
cinematography: Benjamin H. Kline
music: Ross DiMaggio (musical director)
not on home video in the USA

Plot: A newly discovered mineral element that expands and explodes when it is exposed to nitrogen in the Earth’s atmosphere threatenes to destroy the world.

Prolific producer Sam Katzman’s excursion into the science fiction genre was limited, encompassing only a handful of the nearly 250 pictures he financed between 1933 and 1973.  His assembly-line approach to film production produced a few genre gems – the early Ray Harryhausen / Charles H. Schneer collaborations It Came From Beneath the Sea and Earth vs. The Flying Saucers and the underrated sci-fi horror The Werewolf.  Most, however, were little more than lean programmers that relied more on memorable titles and fanciful ad art than content to draw in the necessary business.

1957′s The Night the World Exploded, half of a Columbia double bill featuring the Wtf-Film creature favorite The Giant Claw (another product of Katzman’s Clover Productions directed by Night‘s own Fred F. Sears), will never be remembered as a classic.  But with no video release and only the rarest of representation on modern television, Night is probably lucky to be remembered at all.  Those who grew up on the television late shows of the 60s and 70s (perhaps even more recently, though I never chanced upon it as a kid myself) will recall Night as the picture in which Earth is threatened by exploding rocks pulled from Carlsbad Caverns.

The Night the World Exploded runs along standard contemporary genre lines:  Young scientist David Conway (William Leslie, Hellcats of the Navy) invents a new magical device (a quartz tube “pressurometer” in this case) just in time to predict a major earthquake in Los Angeles.  While the city pieces itself together Conway comes to a startling revelation – immense pressure is building in the Earth’s crust, and the first earthquake is only a warning of more severe disasters to come.  The cause of the pressure reveals itself to be the new Element 112, an explosive mineral that earthquakes worldwide are threatening to expose with cataclysmic results.  From the moment Element 112 is discovered the race is on to find a means of averting a seemingly inevitable apocalypse.

The story may be prototypical sci-fi hokum, but The Night the World Exploded at least manages to toss an interesting idea into its recipe for worldwide carnage.  Like Kronos the same year, Night makes something of an argument for the conservation of natural resources.  The incendiary Element 112 is an entirely natural phenomena, benign in its usual environment.  It’s the pesky meddling of mankind, gung-ho in their coal mining and oil drilling, that have weakened sections of the Earth’s crust enough to allow the Element to expose itself.  The film is careful to point out that it’s not all our fault (natural erosion at the Carlsbad Caverns has exposed the Element as well, for instance), but the message is clear all the same.  ”It’s almost as though the Earth were striking back at us for the way we’ve robbed her of her natural resources,” Laura ‘Hutch’ Hutchinson (Kathryn Grant, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad) says early on.  Erosion be damned, Mother Nature is pissed and all of her stock footage wrath is upon us.  It’s a sentiment that places Night among the very earliest of the ecological disaster films and, in that single sense, well ahead of its time.

Predictably, a solution to the Element 112 crisis is reached before the situation becomes too catastrophic.  Conway discovers that the Element is reverted to a harmless inert state when submerged in water, leading to a poverty row public works project in which library footage from World War II works to flood the areas where the mineral menace has been exposed.  The special effects are of the usual Katzman quality, and new shots are commissioned only when vast libraries of stock shots or earlier bits from old serials were deemed insufficient.  The most impressive moment occurs rather early, when the opening title explodes off the screen – there must have been a few dollars of the budget to spare come time for the titles to be printed.

Dramatically The Night the World Exploded fluctuates between being boringly typical and unintentionally hilarious.  Romantic triangles are normal for pictures of all genres, but I’ve never seen one handled in quite the way it is here.  Scientists Conway and Hutchinson are obviously fond of each other, but Hutchinson intends to marry another man as Conway is too involved in his work.  Night leaves little doubt of which man will get the girl, as Hutch’s intended husband never appears in the film!  We learn his name (Bryant) and of Hutch’s involvement with him, but the character himself never once materializes.  By the time the sun rises over a newly-salvaged world he has been forgotten all together.  Otherwise things are pretty standard issue, with lots of meetings between scientific types and government officials to pad the brief running time.

At just under 64 minutes in length, The Night the World Exploded doesn’t overstay its welcome, and underrated director Fred F. Sears keeps things moving at a reasonable clip while providing narration as well.  Writers Jack Natteford and Luci Ward were seasoned professionals approaching the end of their lengthy careers, just the kind of people Katzman was fond of hiring.  Their work is never as lively as that of the blacklisted Bernard Gordon (who worked for Katzman credited by the name Raymond T. Marcus), but it gets the job done.  Cinematographer Benjamin H. Kline (Before I Hang) keeps everything nicely framed, not that the open matte video masters floating around show it, while music director Ross DiMaggio fills the soundtrack with familiar library cues.

No one will ever mistake The Night the World Exploded for good film making, but there’s a comfort food appeal to it for those of us who grew up on old Columbia programmers.  I certainly enjoyed it.  The studio got more than their money’s worth out of these Katzman productions, re-issuing them in double and triple bill weekend matinees well into the 60s.  It’s a pity more aren’t readily available on DVD, though Sony’s recent collections of deep catalog titles are promising to say the least.  For now Night is a rarity, though it is out there (even without resorting to bootleggers).  I say see it.



20 Million Miles to Earth

February 11th, 2010 | article by | No Comments »
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rating:
company:
Columbia and
Morningside Productions
year: 1957
runtime: 82′
country: United States
director: Nathan Juran
cast: William Hopper, Joan Taylor,
Frank Puglia, John Zaremba,
Thomas Browne Henry, Tito Vudo,
Jan Arvan, Arthur Space
writers: Robert Creighton Williams,
Christopher Knopf and Charlotte Knight
cinematography: Irving Lippman
and Carlo Ventimiglia
music: Mischa Bakaleinikoff
special effects: Ray Harryhausen
disc company: Sony Pictures Home Entertainment
release date: December 4, 2007
retail price: $28.95 / $107.95
disc details: Region Free / dual layer BD50
video: 1080p / 1.85:1 / b/w + colorized
audio: Dolby TrueHD 5.1 surround (English)
and Dolby Digital 2.0 mono (Spanish)
subtitles: English, English SDH, Chinese,
Korean, French, Portuguese, Spanish, Thai
(Spanish, Portuguese for supplements)
special features: feature commentary with
Ray Harryhausen, Remembering 20 Million Miles
to Earth featurette, Tim Burton Sits Down with
Ray Harryhausen featurette, David Schecter on
Music’s Unsung Hero featurette, Interview with Joan
Taylor, image galleries, trailers (Close Encounters
of the Third Kind
), The Colorization Process, BD-Live
order this disc from Amazon.com
single disc | 4-disc Ray Harryhausen Collection

Plot: A spaceship crashes in the sea off Sicily, unleashing an ever-growing specimen of Venusian life.  The creature is captured and taken to Rome, where it goes on a rampage culminating in a military battle at the famed Colosseum.

Ray Harryhausen’s third film project under the Columbia banner is another landmark in his feature film career, being his faithful producer Charles H. Schneer’s first solo effects effort (produced through his newly formed Morningside Productions) and the first for which Harryhausen himself was to be the source inspiration.  It was also the first teaming of the Harryhausen / Schneer duo with art director turned director Nathan Juran, who would direct a number of Schneer’s non-fantasy projects (Hellcats of the Navy, Good Day for a Hanging) as well as two future Harryhausen efforts (The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, First Men in the Moon) and even the Harryhausen / Schneer knock-off Jack the Giant Killer.

20 Million Miles to Earth, Harryhausen’s final feature in black and white, is a minor classic of the genre, only bogged down by the unevenness of the scripting.  The tale begins with a Quatermass-style event – the crash-landing of an exploratory spaceship, most of whose crew has already succumbed to a strange disease contracted during their investigation of Venus.  The only survivor is Colonel Robert Calder (William Hopper), who makes it his mission to track down a very special part of their cargo: a specimen of Venusian life that may hold the key to surviving exposure to the planet’s lethal atmosphere (the cause of the mysterious disease, which never spreads beyond the dead crewmen).

Unfortunately for Calder, the creature has already been found by a young Sicilian boy, who wastes no time in selling it to a traveling zoologist from Rome (the show-stealing Frank Puglia) for a cowboy hat.  By the time Calder catches up to the zoologist and his soon-to-be-doctor granddaughter Marisa (Joan Taylor, Earth vs. The Flying Saucers) the beast, exponentially growing due to the composition of our atmosphere, has already escaped into the countryside.  After an unfortunate encounter between the monster and a farmer, it is captured and taken to Rome, where it continues to grow . . . and grow . . . and grow . . .  until an inevitable laboratory accident allows it to escape once more, this time into the heart of a modern city.



There’s a lot of King Kong and Mighty Joe Young in 20 Million Miles to Earth, with the ostensibly peaceful Venusian Ymir finding itself out of place and increasingly terrorized in an unfamiliar landscape.  Special note is made of the creature’s atypically non-combative disposition, and that it only becomes dangerous when provoked.  This, of course, leads the human cast to provoke it, and endlessly, prodding it with sticks, beating it with shovels, stabbing it with pitchforks, shooting it, and eventually sedating it with electrocution (!).  Any statement about the belligerence of the fearful and greedy mankind, who only want the Ymir so that they can find a way to plunder Venus of its resources, is lost in the shuffle, and by the time the maddened creature awakens in Rome the story has devolved into typical monster-on-the-loose mode.  The rampage of the Ymir in Rome, including a battle with an elephant and a military confrontation around, in, and atop the Colosseum, makes for wonderful action but is emotionally hollow, and a final contemplative line (“Why is it always, always so costly for Man to move from the present to the future?”) feels every bit as tacked on as it is.

The rest of the dramatics are relatively inert, with much of the human story eaten-up in pursuit of the Ymir – a needless romantic subplot between Hopper and Taylor leads nowhere at all.  The dialogue of the Sicilian fishermen who open the story is stunningly bad and downright demeaning at times, the characters themselves never amounting to anything more than hairy-backed simple-minded caricatures.  The professional cast does well with the material provided, with Hopper delivering his second solid monster-film performance of the year (the other from the awful The Deadly Mantis, also directed by Juran).  Taylor does her best with an underwritten role, which comes complete with a archetypal hate-him then love-him romantic arc and a fleeting moment of sympathy for the monster.  The monster itself is, effectively, the lead of the story, let down in the end by the unimaginative writing.

Direction from Nathan Juran is taught and effective, and his compositions (particularly in the mid-film barn confrontation) harken to his past-career as an art director.  This is certainly the best photographed of Harryhausen’s early effects pictures, and it’s good to see Juran working with above-par material (his other genre work at the time involved outright groaners like The Deadly Mantis and laughably ludicrous programmers like Attack of the 50 Ft. Woman and The Brain From Planet Arous).  Mischa Bakaleinikoff delivers some interesting original monster themes, though Columbia’s array of stock music cues are wearing more than a little thin by this point.  Harryhausen and Schneer would team with legendary composer Bernard Herrmann for their next two outings, leaving Columbia’s stock library in the dust for good.



While the storytelling may be problematic, Harryhausen’s effects methods had did nothing but improve with 20 Million Miles to Earth.  The film features some of his finest moments as an animator, the birth of the Ymir and the later shadowy confrontation in the barn.  One memorable moment has the Ymir cornered before the door of a cage, pushing against its door as John Zaremba (Earth vs. The Flying Saucers) tries to close him in – the illusion is seamless.  After wrangling with distinctly inhuman antagonists for two films (a giant octopus and a fleet of flying saucers respectively), the humanoid Ymir offered Harryhausen an opportunity to impart his creation with genuine emotion.  The creature is entirely sympathetic, afraid and lost in an unknown world with man’s military might steadily closing in around him.  The final moments atop the Colosseum, with the Ymir struggling for a last few moments of life, are evocative of King Kong. Even with lackluster drama dragging it down, 20 Million Miles to Earth still stands tall as one of Harryhausen’s shining accomplishments.

20 Million Miles to Earth is the most fondly remembered of Harryhausen’s black and white work at Columbia, and was the first of his films to see Blu-ray release through Sony.  The 50th Anniversary Edition premiered in December of 2007, and was later collected with It Came From Beneath the Sea, Earth vs. The Flying Saucers, and The 7th Voyage of Sinbad into the Blu-ray-exclusive Ray Harryhausen Collection (a collector’s set of the 2-disc SD DVDs is available, but excludes The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, released individually in 2008).

As with It Came From Beneath the Sea and Earth vs. The Flying Saucers, Sony has included a colorized variant of 20 Million Miles to Earth as part of its special edition release.  While it has its effective moments (see the shot of the dying man in the hospital bed), the job is problematic overall.  The Ymir fares pretty poorly throughout, the colorization making the differences in contrast between foreground and background elements of the effects scenes all the more apparent.  Blips in the computerized colorization procedure are frequent (as they are on all of the colorized editions of Harryhausen’s films).  Colors often bleed outwards from where they’re intended to be (see the boy’s lower right cheek in the capture below, or Kenneth Tobey’s forehead and hairline in the night-time romantic shot from It Came From Beneath the Sea), and fade-ins are often outright ugly.  A prime example occurs at the very beginning of the picture, where the colors of the COLUMBIA logo pop in before the letters are there to support them.

Both variants of the film receive a fine 1080p, 1.85:1 transfer.  While a few moments are a tad iffy (a handful of the opening spaceship shots in particular), the transfers are fine overall.  Detail is strong throughout, and while grain is less prominent than in It Came From Beneath the Sea and Earth vs. The Flying Saucers (a result of using different film stock) it’s still present and welcomed.  Damage is light and the source elements for the picture look to be in great condition for their age.  Primary audio is presented in another splendid Dolby TrueHD 5.1 track that sounds very good to these ears, though the original monophonic mix is sadly absent.  A Dolby Digital 2.0 monophonic Spanish dub is included.  The feature is supported with a wide array of subtitles (see the details at the top of this article), with supplements receiving translations in Spanish and Portuguese.

The BD-Live enabled disc features a nice assortment of supplements, the main attractions of which will be the fine commentary track from Harryhausen and effects men Dennis Muren and Phil Tippet and the nice Remembering . . . featurette.  Other featurettes are repeated on the Blu-ray releases of It Came From Beneath the Sea and Earth vs. The Flying Saucers – the interview with Joan Taylor as well as the Tim Burton Sits Down With Ray Harryhausen and David Schecter On Film Music’s Unsung Hero featurettes.  The image galleries are fantastic, allowing one to see the Ymir’s many pre-film forms, though the included trailers – a Blu-ray ad and a spot for the Close Encounters of the Third Kind Ultimate Edition – are a disappointment.  There’s lots of talk about the colorized version of the film in the supplements, and that bothersome The Colorization Process advertisement, repeated on Earth vs. The Flying Saucers, makes its debut here.  All supplements appear to be 480p SD with the exception of the paltry previews.

Bland scripting can only bog a picture down so much with a Ymir about, and 20 Million Miles to Earth is still loads of fun.  This high definition package bests previous editions in the feature presentation department by a long shot, and Harryhausen’s effects still look stunning some 52 years after the fact.  I find myself highly recommending the Ray Harryhausen Collection again, though I’ve linked in to the individual Blu-ray list at the top of this article – I can’t imagine fans being truly disappointed with either.  20 Million Miles to Earth comes recommended.


order this disc from Amazon.com
single disc | 4-disc Ray Harryhausen Collection



Earth vs. The Flying Saucers

February 9th, 2010 | article by | 2 Comments »
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

rating:
company:
Columbia and
Clover Productions
year: 1956
runtime: 83′
country: United States
director: Fred F. Sears
cast: Hugh Marlowe, Joan Taylor,
Donald Curtis, Morris Ankrum,
John Zaremba, Thomas Browne Henry,
Grandon Rhodes, Larry J. Blake
writers: Bernad Gordan, Curt Siodmak
and George Worthing Yates
cinematography: Fred Jackman Jr.
music: Mischa Bakaleinikoff
visual effects: Ray Harryhausen
disc company: Sony Pictures Home Entertainment
release date: October 7th, 2008
retail price: $107.95
(Blu-ray only available as part of The
Ray Harryhausen Collection 4-film set)
disc details: region free / dual layer BD50
video: 1080p / 1.85:1 / b/w + colorized
audio: Dolby TrueHD 5.1 surround (English)
Dolby Digital 2.0 mono (French)
subtitles: English, English SDH, Spanish,
Portuguese, French, Hindi, Arabic, Japanese
(Portuguese, French, Spanish, Japanese
for supplemental content)
special features: audio commentary with
Ray Harryhausen, Remembering Earth vs. The
Flying Saucers featurette, The Hollywood Blacklist
and Bernard Gordon featurette, Original screenplay
credits, Interview with Joan Taylor, photo galleries,
Colorization demo, Sneak peak of Flying Saucers
vs. The Earth comic book, trailers (It Came From
Beneath the Sea
, 20 Million Miles to Earth,
The 7th Voyage of Sinbad)
order this film from Amazon.com:
2-disc SD DVD | 4-disc Blu-ray Collection

Plot: Earth is attacked by a fleet of flying saucers from a disintegrated solar system.

The second collaborative effort between producer Charles H. Schneer, still under contract to Sam Katzman and here working under his Clover Productions banner, and visual effects artist Ray Harryhausen is another formulaic science fiction programmer elevated to near-classic status by its labor-intensive effects production.  The picture was another big success for Columbia and Sam Katzman, who released it on a double bill with the even cheaper The Werewolf (a memorably grim horror noir from director Fred F. Sears).  Earth vs. The Flying Saucers would be Schneer’s final film as a Katzman underling, and 1957 would see the release of his first two independently produced efforts – Hellcats of the Navy starring Arthur Franz and Ronald Reagan and the genre classic 20 Million Miles to Earth.

Earth vs. The Flying Saucers is well-paced if utterly derivative, and follows newlyweds Dr. Russell Marvin (Hugh Marlowe, the Judas of The Day the Earth Stood Still) and secretary Carol (Joan Taylor, 20 Million Miles to Earth).  Both are employed in the Air Force’s top-secret Operation Sky-hook satellite program, which has encountered an odd problem.  None of the satellites are staying in orbit as they should, all having mysteriously crashed back to Earth shortly after their launch.  A few strange encounters and a full-on ray gun attack later, the culprits in the odd disappearances are revealed: a civilization from a dead solar system has set its sights on the planet Earth, which they hope to conquer through the shear obviousness of their technological superiority alone.  Dr. Marvin and his fellow Earthlings are understandably displeased with the invader’s imperialist intentions, and rush to perfect a new anti-saucer weapon before time runs out.

The screenplay by Curt Siodmak, George Worthing Yates and blacklisted writer Bernard Gordon (Hellcats of the Navy, Day of the Triffids, Krakatoa: East of Java – the authors name, originally listed as Raymond T. Marcus, has been restored in the opening credits of Sony’s latest release of this film) is a mish-mash of original and judiciously absorbed ideas from previous efforts strung together with a little drama and a lot of military hearings and scientific exposition.  The notion of intellectually superior and physically frail extraterrestrials invading the less-advanced Earth dates back to Wells’ 1898 novel The War of the Worlds, while several moments throughout – a General (Morris Ankrum, of course) commenting on the electronic screens protecting the invaders, an examination of some of their optical equipment – are culled from George Pal’s big-budget 1953 adaptation of the same.

A misunderstanding that leads to the death of the alien’s first Earth delegate harkens to Wise’s 1951 classic The Day the Earth Stood Still, as does a mid-picture show of force by the invaders, who cut all manner of Earthly communication in preparation for their final attack.  Then there are the interiors of the saucers themselves, the extraterrestrials’ pontifications of the vast speeds at which they travel, and even the closing lines (“. . . such a nice world.  I’m glad it’s still here.”), all of which are rather reminiscent of Universal’s color spectacle This Island Earth from the previous year.  Derivative as it may be, the film has proven to be quite inspirational as well.  Toho’s Monster Zero follows the same basic plot elements right down to the truck-mounted anti-saucer rays, and Tim Burton’s Mars Attacks! makes too many direct homages to it for me to even begin to list them here.



Earth vs. The Flying Saucers bypasses the standard romantic arc that dominated so many of its predecessors, beginning with a married couple who have gotten that troublesome love-finding out of the way before the film has even begun.  Hugh Marlowe and Joan Taylor make a believable couple and solid enough foundation for the rest of the picture to rest upon, though precious little screen time is given to their relationship.  Most of the running time is devoted to military meetings (disbelieving Generals and all) and that 50s genre perspective of the scientific process, complete with the obligatory cost-cutting stock footage montages and a newsreel-style narration (perhaps It Came From Beneath the Sea‘s William Woodson again, though the IMDB lists his credit as “unconfirmed”).  Fred F. Sears does what he always did best, making the most of the meager finances and drama that was handed to him, and fills the screen with his trademark mis-en-scene, with actors stacked deep into shots and almost menacing shadows cast on the walls of mundane locations.  I’ve always been a fan of Sears’ work, visually if not substantively, but his position as one of Katzman’s most prolific work-horse would shuffle him off the mortal coil just a year later – dead of cerebral hemorrhage at the age of 44.

The film certainly did nothing to hurt Harryhausen’s budding film career, and his carefully animated flying saucers would easily usurp those from The Day the Earth Stood Still and This Island Earth to become the most iconic of the decade.  The aliens themselves, stuffed in clunky rounded suits made of “solidified electricity”, may be anemic, but the saucers in which they fly are alive brimming with menace – he can’t seem to resist giving even these inanimate machines a distinct personality.  The animation is a fine example of the classic Harryhausen style, the saucers delicately weaving back and forth, each motion counterbalanced against another to give the illusion of suspended weight.  It all works amazingly well, and count me as one of those who is amazed, even today, at the actual size of the saucer models.  Imperfections are more obvious now some 20 years since I first saw the picture, imperfect matte lines or jitteriness of elements within the frame, but many of the tricks, like the model of the capitol dome inserted above a photo plate of the rest of the building, are seamless.

I continue to find immense satisfaction in Sony’s Blu-ray Ray Harryhausen Collection, which has given me a much-needed excuse to catch up on four of the films I was raised on.  Like the previously reviewed It Came From Beneath the Sea, Sony has opted to make their Blu-ray of Earth vs. The Flyings Saucers available only as a part of their 4-disc Blu-ray collection.  As with that film, a 2-disc special edition SD DVD with the same supplemental content is individually available and has been linked to at the top of this article.



Like the other two black and white features in the Ray Harryhausen Collection, a Harryhausen-endorsed colorized version of Earth vs. The Flying Saucers has been included along with the original black and white.  While technology has obviously improved since digital colorization was introduced in the 80s, the end product still looks very much like what it is.  Some hues still look bad, and reds are rendered particularly poorly here (an American flag looks dull and pastel, while a briefly glimpsed stop sign is nearly pink).  Skin tones continue to be an issue, with one character (the military man standing next to Morris Ankrum as they gaze out of the control tower at an approaching saucer) is cast in a ghastly yellow.  In spite of the Harryhausen endorsement and the preponderance for discussion of the topic in the commentary, the black and white original is clearly the way to see the film.

Transfer-wise, this is another strong effort.  The 1080p 1.85:1 image presents with tremendous detail and beautiful contrast (see the image of Morris Ankrum’s troubled face), with a healthy layer of grain present throughout.  Damage in the original footage of this popular attraction is limited to speckling here and there, with stock shots varying from pristine to battered – just as they were when the film was released.  Harryhausen’s extensive effects work looks fantastic, only improving with the increased scrutiny the HD transfer allows for.  Audio is presented in another excellent Dolby TrueHD 5.1 surround track, and the recording sounds like it could have been made yesterday (from Columbia’s canned effects library, of course).  A Dolby Digital 2.0 monophonic French dub is available as well.  Subtitling options are extensive on this region-free disc, with additional French, Spanish, Portuguese and Japanese translations available for the supplements.

As with It Came From Beneath the Sea, supplements here are stacked.  The package begins with another fun commentary from Harryhausen, this time joined by fellow effects artists Jeffrey Okun and Ken Ralston.  Aside from the frequent “oohs” and “aahs” over how wonderful the colorization job looks, this is a great track – well worth a listen.  Next up are a series of featurettes totaling around 70 minutes, including a retrospective of the film, a piece dedicated to blacklisted writer Bernard Gordon, and an interview with co-star Joan Taylor, who seems positively delighted that she’ll be remembered for her performances in two of Harryhausen and Schneer’s effects pictures.  The original opening credits for the film, complete with the Raymond T. Marcus credit, are included here for posterity.  We get another Harryhausen inspired comic preview, this time for Flying Saucers vs. The Earth, as well as a collection of trailers and image galleries.  The trailer for this film is, again, strangely omitted, though it is available on other discs in the set.  A little bothersome is The Colorization Process, which plays a bit too much like a late-night infomercial for Legend Film’s services and is entirely skippable.

While probably the weakest of the four films available in the Ray Harryhausen Collection, Earth vs. The Flying Saucers was none-the-less influential and remains a fun, if dated, science fiction programmer.  Harryhausen’s meticulous one-man effects production makes the upgrade to HD a no-brainer, just one more reason to pick up the full collection.  Earth vs. The Flying Saucers comes recommended.


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