Category Archives: Movies

Science fiction and fantasy movies

[April 15, 1961] London Calling (a peek at UK fandom)

Every once in a while, one comes across a supremely talented, like-minded person.  Ashley R. Pollard is a gifted writer from England who is shopping around her first novel.  I discovered her through her columns in a British 'zine; I was so impressed that I asked if she'd like to join the Journey as a contributor, writing on fandom in the UK.  To my intense gratification, she agreed.  Here is her first article…

Out of the blue I received a letter from across the pond asking me if I would have a mind to contribute to Galactic Journey and that is how I came to find myself writing this entry for this journal.  To say I was delighted to be known to an American writer would be an understatement, but to be able to write for the Journey in such exciting times as these, the Dawn of the Space Age, is quite frankly a privilege.  When Sputnik took to the heavens on October the Fourth, 1957, my work colleagues could no longer pass off my taste for reading science fiction as some abnormal fancy but rather as a sign of prescience.

Now a Red star has risen in the East — Vostok — aboard the ship is the first human in space: Major Yuri Gagarin, who is now a Hero of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and by extension a hero for all mankind.  The local prestige of our former wartime allies had plunged due to the recent discovery and capture of the Portland Spy Ring, causing ripples of concern over secrets lost, so having Major Gagarin take over the headlines has been welcome change — if only from one kind of paranoia to another: Reds with atomic secrets versus Reds in Space!  And because it turns my liking for all things to do with rocketry into a respectable talking point at parties.

Certainly, Thursday nights conversation at The London Circle, a meeting of like minded science fiction fans, was of nothing else.  (The London Circle was the basis for Arthur C. Clarke's Tales from the White Hart.  I will not be drawn into the recent fan feud that has split the group because I attend for the ambience of the pub and the chance to have a G&T with ice and a slice. How very non-fannish of me.)

Of course, this being Britain, we had to draw comparisons to Nigel Kneale's Quatermass Experiment and the British Experimental Rocket Group and what happened to the hapless astronaut to leaven the concerns of those who see Soviet dominance in space as threat to World Peace.

As you can well imagine our conversations were more along the lines of aliens returning to Earth with Major Gagarin, and what would the Russian counter-part of Bernard Quatermass do?

Perhaps, it was opined, the reason that his landing site is undisclosed is because Russian forces are engaged in confronting the alien threat to save the world.  Though, as I said at the time this idea was broached, I imagined that if so then Pravda would be telling us all about the heroic actions of the brave Soviet soldiers who died to save the world.  As we've not heard anything to this effect it is simpler to imagine that secret of where Major Gagarin landed is merely something the Politburo do not wish to disclose for fear of Western spies — tit for tat being a common response.

As per my wont, I also mentioned a television series that had caught my eye, engaging fellow fans with a comparison and contrast of visions of the future and the impact of science fictional ideas upon.  I had my listeners' rapt attention until I revealed that said show was Supercar a production using puppets produced by Gerry Anderson & Arthur Provis of AP Films for ATV (the London independent TV franchise) and ITC Entertainment (a production and distribution company).

I came across this Saturday morning show quite by chance when looking after a friend's child who sat totally absorbed by the adventures of Mike Mercury, the pilot of the eponymous Supercar, and the science team who created it: Professor Rudolph Popkiss and Dr. Horatio Beaker.  Admittedly I missed some of the initial episode from being too caught up in reading my newspaper, the aforementioned headlines about the spy ring; but the catchy theme tune and more importantly the silence of the young boy watching kept drawing my attention from what I was reading.

What could be so fascinating that a six years old would stay still and quiet for so long?


I have since sat with him to watch Supercar together.  It's a delightful concoction with a totally over the top opening sequence that can't fail to attract the attention of the most jaded viewer.  The attention to detail is superb, for example, the opening sequence of events with Supercar flying up through the clouds banking over and then diving underwater are lovingly shot with music from Barry Gray that will stir the hearts of young and old alike.  More importantly it shows a future suffused with optimism…where cars fly!  I almost feel guilty for taking the babysitting money on Saturdays.  Almost but not quite.

Finally, to end this missive, and because I'm running out of blue airmail paper and worried about the cost of sending some photographs I acquired, I would like to mention another television show that has caught my eye.

It's called The Avengers and features the rather hunky and adorable Ian Hendry who is supported by a debonaire Patrick Macnee, who looks vaguely familiar but for the life of me I can't recall what he has performed in before.  I mention this show in passing because it riffs on the James Bond books, and with the Dr. No film coming out next year, I predict a spate of spy adventures gracing television and the silver screen.

However, the real excitement remains Major Gagarin's achievement and the effects this will have on East-West diplomacy.  If only the world leaders could see the bigger picture here and (to bang on my favourite drum) hope for the future — something that the makers of Supercar caught in their children's puppet show.  A future bright with possibilities from mankind's ingenuity which will save the day whatever the adversity we face.

[Jan. 23, 1961] 20,000 Leagues over the Air! (Master of the World)

Every once in a while, my faith is restored in Hollywood, and I remember why I sit through the schlock to get to the gold.

My daughter and I sat through 90 minutes of the execrable, so bad it's bad Konga because we had been lured in by the exciting posters for Master of the World.  It promised to be a sumptuous Jules Verne classic a la Journey to the Center of the Earth, and it starred the inimitable Vincent Price to boot.

It was worth the wait–the movie is an absolute delight.

The year is 1868, and a team of intrepid adventurers takes off in a steam-powered balloon to investigate what appears to be a volcanic eruption in the midst of Pennsylvania.  They include the doddering but genuinely humorous arms maker, Mr. Prudent, his lively daughter, Dorothy, her outwardly chivalrous but really quite petty fiance, Philip Evans, and the enigmatic yet utterly capable government agent, John Strock. 

As it crests the crater of the Mid-Atlantic's newest volcanic crater, the balloon is shot down by a stream of missiles.  When the aeronauts awake, they find themselves on a tremendous flying ship, part helicopter and part battleship.  It is captained by the fearsome Robur (Price) festooned with shaggy facial hair appliques.  The skipper's goal is mad yet laudable: to end war on Earth by destroying each nation's ability to make war.  With the captured Pennsylvanians in tow, Robur launches a crusade of terror against the navies and armies of the world.  Can this madman be stopped?  You'll have to watch to the end to find out!

It is an amibitious movie for American International Pictures, an attempt at an epic from a studio better known for it's "B"-level drive-in fare.  It very well could have been a classic-based dud like last year's The Lost World.  Certainly, the special effects are nothing special–primarily rather limp model-work, back-projection, and liberal use of stock footage.

And yet…

The script is by Richard Matheson, possibly the best fantasy/science fiction screenwriter in the business.  The performances turned out by the five stars are excellent.  Price's Robur conveys single-minded fanaticism sublty tinged with resignation and regret.  Here is a villain one can sympathize with, even admire, despite the insanity of his vision.  Henry Hull's Prudent captures the archaicisms of early 19th Century speech and manners.  The clear attraction between Dorothy Prudent (Mary Webster) and John Strock (Charles Bronson), much to the dismay of Mr. Evans (David Frankham), is convincing. 

Moreover, there is a consistent tone and pacing to the movie.  It is never dull.  The story twists and turns such that you are never certain what will happen next.  It is fun in an over-the-top way that mitigates the enormity of Robur's actions, making them watchable rather than sickening.  The humor is intentionally funny.  The action scenes are exciting.  The doffing of shirts by the ship's muscular crew mid-way through the film is inexplicable, but not unwelcome (for at least half of the audience). 

And in the end, it is both satisfying and touching.  More, please. 

Four stars.

[Jan. 17, 1961] Going Ape at the Movies! (Konga)

Don't let anyone tell you the Double Feature is dead.  My daughter and I enjoyed (if that's the right word) three hours of cinematic entertainment the other weekend, namely the paired destined-to-be-classics: Konga and Master of the World.  Now, the latter is a Vincent Price vehicle, so we expected that one to be decent, but what could we make of Konga, billed as the best giant ape movie since King Kong?  And in color, no less!

For those who say that my reviewes are too often negative, I will begin with the positive notes.  The cinematography, the scoring, even the acting (for the most part), are "A" level.  Also, there is an excellent scene in the middle depicting the family life of one of the minor characters.  It is funny and earnest.

And…

and…

well…

Well, I'll let the movie speak for itself.  I've secured a set of Cineclips, and I took note of the film's immortal dialogue.  You can tell me if it was worth my time:

"A small private plane bearing Dr. Charles Decker, famous English botanist, burst into flames and crashed into the jungle depths…"

"Extra!  Dr. Decker returns!"

"I'm on the verge of a revolutionary link between what grows in the Earth and animal life!"

"Extracts from these plants may well prove to be the link between vegetable and animal life!"


"You fool!  You think I want the biggest experiment of my life menaced by a cat?  Even those few drops might have made Tabby swell up to huge proportions!  We're not ready to have a cat the size of a leopard running through the streets…besides, Konga is the subject of my experiments."

"It works!  It works!"

"You know how much I enjoy working with you, Dr. Decker!"

"So long as I am Dean of this college, you will do as I say!

"I am your master, and you must obey me…"

Decker: "We killed Dean Foster.  What are you going to do about it?" 

Margaret: "What can I do?  In my own mind and heart, I've already taken you for better and for worse..[but] I never dreamed you could kill." 

Decker: "You know I had to, sooner or later.  I would have been forced to kill someone through Konga just to prove I was right, just to make my experiment a success!"

Margaret: "I will be Mrs. Charles Decker!"

Decker: "And you will be…very soon!"

"I'm certain I shall be the first to proclaim a new method of mutation which will accelerate growth in such a manner that it must revolutionize the world."

"I think Dr. Decker comes first with you, though he's old enough to be your father.  It's unnatural!"

"Sandra, dear, if you join with me, I can promise you adventure, the thrill of discovery, and the glory greater than any woman has ever known!"




"Konga…let me go!"

"Fantastic!  There's a huge monster gorilla that's constantly growing to outlandish proportions loose in the streets!"



FINIS

One lousy, stinking star.

(back in a few with the other movie, or perhaps Analog.  You never know!)

[Nov. 21, 1960] I aim at the Stars (but sometimes I hit London)

If the United States is doing well in the Space Race, it is in no small thanks to a group of German expatriates who made their living causing terror and mayhem in the early half of the 1940s.  I, of course, refer to Wehrner von Braun and his team of rocket scientists, half of whom were rounded up by the Allies after the War, the other half of whom apparently gave similar service to the Soviets. 

I don't know if the Russian group is still affiliated with the Communist rocket program–I don't think so.  Last I heard, they had all been repatriated.  But bon Braun's group is still going strong.  Until last year, they worked under the auspices of the Army, but now they are employed in a civilian capacity by NASA.  Their giant Saturn project is the backbone of our nascent lunar program.

Of course, the fact that an ex-Nazi is playing such a pivotal role in our space program may not sit well with some.  Perhaps to address this concern, the rather hagiographic movie, I Aim at the Stars has been released.  Interestingly, it's not quite so sympathetic as it might have been.  Von Braun is played as a rather soulless figure, unconcerned with the political ramifications of his work.  He cares only about his rockets.

Or as a math student from the Bay Area has sung:

"Don't say that he's hypocritical.
Say instead that he's 'apolitical'.
'Once the rockets are up, who cares
where they come down. 
That's not my department,'
says Wehner von Braun."

A special comic book was made for the movie and handed out at some of the premieres.  I've gotten my hands on one of them, and having been given permission to reprint, my editor is reproducing it in its entirety for those of you who won't make it to the flicks to enjoy Curt Jurgens do a rather good job of not looking at all like Wehrner von Braun.

Enjoy!

[Sep. 24, 1960] Mood for a Day (Roger Corman's House of Usher)

We are pleased to present noted scholar Rosemary Benton's thoughts on Roger Corman's House of Usher, the cinemafication of Poe's classic about a cursed family doomed to madness through the ages.  Special kudos must be awarded since Ms.  Benton lives in rural New England, where the movie houses are not all air conditioned…

It's been a particularly hot summer this year, but a deep love of movies compelled me to visit my local theater nonetheless.  This time it was to enjoy a film that has been making quite a stir since it's release in June: House of Usher

Buzz about the movie claims that it was shot in only 15 days, and apparently a forest fire in the Hollywood Hills served as the perfect filming location for the opening shots of the movie.  On the one hand, I had to wonder how good a film that was shot in such a rush could possibly be.  On the other hand, Roger Corman's dedication to effect can hardly be questioned when he drags his crew out into the ruin of a forest fire all for the glory of atmosphere.  And with the positive reception that another of Mr.  Corman's recent pictures has been getting, The Little Shop of Horrors, I couldn't justify missing out on an opportunity to see some more of his work. 

What atmosphere there is in House of Usher.  Silence is allowed at times, just to hear the creaking of the house in the dead of night.  When music does occur strains of the orchestra's violin section and the hypnotic vocals utilized in the film's peaks make for a memorable score by veteran composer, Les Baxter.  Music, or lack thereof, is key to what makes House of Usher so very creepy.  The vocals are employed to great effect about half an hour into the movie when our protagonist wanders into the mansion's chapel.  It comes as a great relief that soothes the fear the audience was experiencing just moments before.  Here is a place that, in the honeycombed labyrinth of the Usher mansion, offers comfort and protection.  Then, with a cascade of violins, the scene transforms into a shock that the audience didn't predict.  It's a turn that, in lesser films, would have been achieved only by a shot of the shocked face of the actor, followed by a quick cut to the object of the shock.  Or perhaps a panning shot would shows the audience what the actor will be scared by moments before they themselves see it.  In House of Usher the visuals, acting, and music all unite in many memorable moments throughout the film. 

There is a distinct lack of exposition which I found to be very refreshing.  The audience is allowed to draw their own conclusion on the mental states of characters, and are left on the edge of their seats wondering what twists and turns will come next.  This kind of horror film could not be more anticipated given the many low grade double feature horror movies, sequels, and franchises of recent years.  This glut of horror movies has shown a strain on the formula that made the careers of Bella Lugosi and Boris Karloff. 

Headlining actor Vincent Price's telltale drawl, soft line delivery and affected mannerisms have type-cast him to such a point that nearly his entire early career has been built upon television spots as villainous rogues.  The characters he portrayed for many years were sadly only as deep as a few establishing shots allowed.  There is a renaissance afoot in Mr.  Price's career, however.  Oddly enough, this maturation was brought on by a satirical horror film with the most ridiculous premise.  The Tingler showed Mr.  Price playing a morally ambiguous mortician/scientist who wavered on a thin line between antagonist and antihero, someone goofy yet menacing.  Now, as the titular master of the Usher household, he has been given the freedom to waver between madman and protector, a person who believes so profoundly in the existence of evil that he is willing to stamp it out even at the cost of his own life and the family line.  It is my firm belief that actors like him, with directors like Richard Corman, will carry horror films on to something greater. 

[September 15, 1960] You can lead a horticulture… (Roger Corman's Little Shop of Horrors)

The motion picture industry has been in decline for fifteen years, leaving movie houses owners pondering this humdinger:

"How do we get more folks through our doors?" 

One way has been to aim for the pocketbook.  Offer two movies for the price of one, the so-called "double feature."  Only, it hasn't worked out so well, and the practice seems to be dying out. 

The issue seems to be one of quality.  What good does it do to get a second movie for free if it's not worth the time spent to endure it?  Especially now that the allure of the theater is diminished by the spread of home air conditioning and television?  This is why Hollywood is now turning to true spectacles to pack the seats: Ben Hur, The Ten Commandments.  the upcoming Spartacus.  These are epics for which the small screen just won't cut it.  They may be what saves the industry.

This is not to say that B-movies, the second bananas in a double-bill, are history.  In fact, my family and I just went to the cinema to watch what can only be described as a Double B feature: a pairing of The Last Woman on Earth and Little Shop of Horrors.  I suppose that makes one of them a C-movie!  Both are by Roger Corman, renowned for making low-budget schlock.  He has a talent for squeezing the most out of a tiny purse, and much of what he produces has surprising merit.

I talked about The Last Woman on Earth in my last piece.  This time around, let's look at Little Shop of Horrors.

It's a simple, shocking story on the face of it.  Seymour Krelbourne is a dim-witted assistant in the shop of Gravis Mushnick, a florist on Skid Row in Los Angeles.  On the verge of losing his job due to his incompetence, Seymour wins his boss over with a peculiar homegrown hybrid that turns out to be a hit with the customers.  Seymour names it Audrey Junior after his adorable, if dotty, co-worker, and thus wins her over, too.  Happy story, no?

No.  As it turns out, Audrey Junior is a sentient Venus Fly Trap with a taste for meat…human meat.  It uses Seymour as a patsy to conduct a series of grisly murders and feed its insatiable appetite.  Ultimately, the beast is stopped, but at a high price.

Sounds like a typical low-grade horror movie, doesn't it?  Don't be fooled.  The plot is simply a vehicle to deliver a non-stop series of character gags, physical humor, malaprop jokes, and general farce.  It's a genuinely funny film that feels like a cross between The Twilight Zone and a Borscht Belt stand-up routine.  Standout characters include Mel Welles as Mushnick, sporting a convincing Turkish Jewish accent; Wally Campo and Jack Warford as a pair of police investigators doing a spot-on parody of the duo from Dragnet; John Shaner as a sadistic dentist; Jack Nicholson as a masochistic patient; and Corman-film perennial, Dick Miller, as a flosiverous (flower-eating) customer. 

Little Shop of Horrors is hardly cinematic gold, but it is good-naturedly gruesome and a lot of fun.  I suspect this odd little comedy may well become a cult film, remembered as one of Corman's better pieces.  Watch it while it's still in theaters!

[September 13, 1960] On the beach… again (The Last Woman on Earth)


from here

I understand that the movie-house biz isn't doing so well.  Looking through my trade magazines, I found some pretty alarming statistics.  During the War, Americans spent about a quarter of their recreation budget on movies.  Now, we spend just 5% in the cinemas.  Movie revenues are down a third, from $1.4 billion to $950 million.  Only half as many films are coming out this year as did during the War–200 versus 400.

The causes of film's decline aren't too hard to discern.  Television is free and constant.  More homes have air conditioning.  Going to the movies isn't such an event anymore. 

Not that the film parlors haven't tried.  Cinescope.  Cinerama.  Aroma-rama!  Double features.  Drive-in viewing.  Nothing's working.

Well, never let it be said that the Journey shirks its civic duty.  Thus it was that the Traveller and his family all went to see the Roger Corman double-feature at the local movie palace.

Yes, you heard right.  They billed a Corman B-movie with…another Corman B-movie!  Boy are we gluttons for punishment.  Actually, the experience wasn't so bad.  We'd heard that his Little Shop of Horrors was a clever little comedy, and we weren't disappointed. 

But that's getting ahead of ourselves, for Shop was the second feature on the billing.  Number one was:

The Last Woman on Earth

This is a post-apocalyptic film, a genre that is booming these days.  In Woman, some sort of bomb or act of God momentarily destroys all free oxygen in the atmosphere, killing humanity and most of Earth's animal life. A crooked billionaire, his beautiful and disillusioned wife, and his nebbishy young attorney manage to survive the end of the world thanks to some timely scuba diving off the coast of Puerto Rico. 

In the first 15 minutes of the movie, we get to meet the three protagonists as they are in the civilized world.  Harold is a rich cynic who takes nothing very seriously, including his wife.  He spends much of his life drinking, gambling, and making his fortunes.  Martin is Harold's lawyer.  His defining trait seems to be caution.  And then we have the lovely Evelyn, who is tired of being ignored, tired of being kept at arm's length from her new husband.  She makes a pass at Martin in just the second scene, though it's hard to see what the attraction is, other than convenience.

Then comes the disaster.  The characters emerge from the water and take in lungfuls of air that do not satisfy.  Matches don't light.  Engines don't catch.  When the trio gets back to town, everyone is suffocated.  It's really quite nicely done.

The three take refuge at a swank residence with enough food and booze to last months, if not years.  Sounds idyllic… except Harold is a rolling stone, a man of action.  He worries about disease and wants to look for other survivors.  What made him venal and dirty in the old world makes him a natural leader in the new one.  One can't help but like him.

Except Martin doesn't much like him.  Under the new conditions, Martin sees no reason to follow the driven Harold..  And Evelyn sees the catastrophe as a sort of liberation, a chance to start anew.  With Martin.

Martin and Evelyn consumate an affair, and Harold exiles his attorney from their little paradise.  Martin leaves…with Evelyn, and the pair plan to steal Harold's yacht and make for Florida.  But Martin is not really a rebel–more of a depressive.  His basic pessimism and lassitude become evident when he rejects Evelyn's suggestion that they start a family, and she starts to have second thoughts about their relationship. 

Then Harold shows up, and we are treated to a long chase and fight scene in which Harold mortally wounds Martin.  This leaves Harold and Evelyn a couple by default, if a rather shaky one.

I like dramas in a bottle, and I like post apocalyptic stories.  This one had its issues, however.  It's not so much bad as it is disappointing. The film sort of fizzles out halfway and never does much with its material.  It doesn't help that two of the three characters aren't very likable, and the fellow who plays Martin isn't much of an actor.  The ending is a letdown, too; I think it would have been more compelling if Harold had let the others go, with Evelyn ultimately returning to her husband. 

Of course, the real issue is that this movie has been done before, and better: The World, The Flesh, and The Devil

But, if nothing else, it is a lovely film.  Corman makes expert use of the local scenery: beaches, forest, a coastal fort.  I can only imagine that he had other business on the island.  There's no way he'd have the budget to head out there otherwise! 

Stay tuned for Little Shop of Horrors in a couple of days…

[August 25, 1960] Accurate Paleontology (Dinosaurus!)

Another weekend, another Jack Harris production.  Harris has made a name for himself cranking out colorful, enjoyable B-movie fare, and his latest contribution to the cinematic universe, Dinosaurus!, is no exception.

Make no mistake: Harris has yet to produce a masterpiece.  But then, I don't think that's his goal.  Rather, he creates fun monsters and cool heroes to fight them.  All while offering up a ear-catching soundtrack.

This time around, Harris has traded in the frenetic jazz for soothing calypso, as befits the setting of Dinosaurus!–the idyllic Caribbean paradise of St. Croix. 

In contrast to his previous movies, The Blob and The 4D Man, Dinosaurus! opens up right quick with the action.  In brief, a test of underwater explosives off the coast of the island uncovers a pair of dinosaurs and a caveman, all of whom have been frozen solid for ages at the bottom of the sea.  They are hauled ashore for investigation, whereupon they thaw and wreak havoc upon the island.  But the real monster of the piece isn't one of the dinosaurs or a prehistoric Neanderthal.  It's a sinister island manager named Hacker, who treats the islanders like his property, and who has designs on seizing the ancient creatures for his own profit.


Beefcake, two for one sale, with a cheesecake dessert–but you have to order a side of slime…

Rather than spoil the plot, for the movie is worth watching (so long as you understand what you'll be getting), I'll just tell you the things I learned during the course of the film:

1) Brontosaurus, Tyrannosaurus, and Neanderthals lived contemporaneously;

2) Creatures can be quick-frozen such that they will return to life, no worse for wear, once exposed to warm sun and rain;

3) Tyrannosaurs are malicious, spiteful creatures; they are motivated by murder and mayhem rather than by hunger;

4) Brontosaurs are adorable and make excellent steeds;

5) Neanderthals are noble, self-sacrificing creatures, but they lack the ability to speak.  They also are best used as comic relief;

6) Stop-motion and puppet dinosaurs are much more satisfying to watch than lizards with taped-on accoutrements;

7) Harris hopes to make a sequel even though there is no way to continue the storyline.

Rest assured that the good guys win in the end, although not without taking casualties–to wit, an Irishman and a Brontosaurus.  I suspect that, if my daughter had been with me, she would have walked out when the sauropod bought the farm.  I know I was tempted.

My magazine subscriptions should be here by tomorrow, so I'll have the first revew of the October 1960 issues next time around!

[August 14, 1960] George Pal's The Time Machine

And sometimes, the cinema astounds me.

Have I got your attention?  My faithful readers know that I am an avid movie-goer.  At least once a month, my daughter and I will trek out to the local drive-in or parlor and take in a science fiction film.  Sometimes we see good A-listers, sometimes we see bad ones.  Occasionally we see good B-listers, usually we see bad ones.  In general, book adaptations are loose, at best.  Journey to the Center of the Earth was one of the better films of 1959, but it bore little resemblance to the source material.

George Pal's The Time Machine knocked my socks off.

Now, I'm not usually given to hyperbole (in fact, I can safely say I'd sooner die than engage in such a hackneyed endeavor), so you can believe me when I report that The Time Machine is easily the best fantasy film of the year.

Note that I say fantasy: time travel stories often get categorized as science fiction, but this movie is a pure flight of fancy, and a delightful one at that.  It is a beautiful, timeless piece of film that, I imagine, will provide entertainment decades from now–perhaps even in the far future depicted in the movie.

But I get ahead of myself.  First, a synopsis:

In broad strokes, the film follows the book, but there are some key differences, in part to be topical to the era in which it was made.

It opens with a dinner party at the house of inventor, H.G. Wells (played by Rod Taylor, a rather hunky and quite capable Australian, who recently starred in The Twilight Zone).  Wells makes a tardy appearance, disheveled, wounded, and smoke-suffused.  The movie is his recounting of his adventures through time.

Just six days before, as the last minutes of the 1800s ticked away, Wells invites the same four guests to witness a demonstration of time travel.  Using a scale model of the device, Wells sends a cigar into the future.  But when his friends display doubt as to the success of the model's flight, our hero resolves to take a trip to the future and return with his findings.

This is, perhaps, the most exciting part of the movie.  I know my daughter enjoyed it the most.  Wells travels 17 years into the future and meets the son of his best friend, Philby.  He sees his house blown up by the Blitz in 1940. 

In 1966, he makes a brief stop just in time to watch the world blown up in a nuclear holocaust.  He is saved only by the speed at which he travels into the future.

Encased in a volcanic mountain, the result of said apocalypse, Wells must journey in the dark until erosion frees him, which it eventually does, far far in the future.

The traveler finds a garden-like world with fruits in abundance.  Its inhabitants, the Eloi, dress simply and frolic with nary a care.  At first, Wells believes he has found paradise.  His first indication that something is amiss is the near-drowning of the lovely girl, Weena, whose friends watch her plight (and her rescue by Wells) with dispassion.  Then, at supper in the ruined remains of a magnificent hall, Wells finds the denizens of the future almost simple in their incuriosity, ignorance, and illiteracy.  In one of the most effective scenes of the movie, Wells is taken to a library only to have the books, long neglected and unread, crumble in his fingers.

Disgusted, Wells returns to his point of origin, but the time machine has been stolen, dragged into a nearby locked building topped with a sculpture of an inhuman head.  Weena braves the darkness to warn Wells that the night belongs to the Morlocks, another people who produce the food and clothes for the Eloi.  Indeed, one tries to kidnap Weena, but Wells saves her, further winning her trust and loyalty.

The next morning, Weena takes Wells to a musuem of sorts.  There, Wells learns that the twofold split in humanity resulted from a terrible biological war.  One group elected to stay in the relative safety of their underground complex of shelters, while others attempted to survive on the barren surface. 

Wells decides to investigate the Morlocks, who inhabit a vast subterranean factory complex.  But before he gets far, he hears the wailing of air raid sirens (with which he had become acqauinted during his sojourn through the 20th Century), and Weena abandons him.  In fact, all of the Eloi are marching in an uncomprehending daze toward the strange "Sphinx" building.  Several dozen, including Weena, wander inside, before the sirens cease and the building's doors close.

"What happens to them?" Wells wants to know.  "They never come back," he is told. 

Wells encounters an acute lack of interest when he proposes that a rescue be launched, so he strikes out underground on his own.  There, he finds that the Morlocks are cannibals, feeding off the captured Eloi.  Such is the arrangement of this new world: the Eloi may live a carefree, short life, but in the end, they must pay dearly for their bliss.

But that order is about to change.  Wells rallies the captured Eloi to defend themselves against the Morlocks.  With their help, and a lot of matches, Wells frees the prisoners.  They then feed the conflagration Wells started underground with heaps of dead wood, and the factory complex collapses.

Afterward, a wistful Wells laments the loss of his machine, but delights in the romantic bond growing between him and Weena. 

As the two settle into an embrace, one of the Eloi arrives with news.  The Sphinx is open, and his machine is inside! 

But it turns out that this is just a baited trap.  Once inside the building, the doors close, and Wells is beset by Morlocks.  He barely manages to escape into the past.

His story (and dinner) complete, Wells is once again met with incredulity.  His guests all leave, save for Philby, who has been convinced.  But he is too late to stop Wells, who has already departed again for the future.  This time, he isn't going empty-handed: missing from Wells' library are three books, their contents unknown.

We are left with the lingering question, "Which three books would you take?"

I am gratified with the respect George Pal has shown Wells' original material.  It would have been nice if we could have seen an adaptation of the latter part of the book, where Wells journeys into the far future to witness the frozen death of the Earth, but I can see why this section, while lovely, was discarded as superfluous. 

But the essence of the story, this cautionary parable, is intact, and Wells' indomitable idealism is well-portrayed by Taylor, who essentially performs a one-man show throughout most of the film.  I expect this will be his breakthrough role.  Alan Young also deserves praise for his double role as Wells' friend, Philby, and as Philby's son.  His Scottish accent was certainly better than Pat Boone's!  As for Yvette Mimieux, who plays Weena, hers is a role that does not require much range, nor does Ms. Mimieux strain herself.  One wonders what Wells sees in her, but perhaps it is her tabula rasa nature, unblemished by modern sentiment, that appeals.  Or maybe's it's the short skirt.

The cinematography, sets, and models are just lovely.  This is a lush production with some truly impressive stop-motion work.  Due to its setting in the Victorian past (lovely costumes!) and the far future, and thanks to the highly professional film and effects work, I suspect The Time Machine will never seem dated.

Highly recommended.  5 stars of 5.

[July 23, 1960] Beyond the Schlock Barrier! (Beyond the Time Barrier)

Every week, Rod Serling talks about the "Twilight Zone" between fear and knowledge, science and superstition, light and dark.  He might have added sublimity and schlock.  Every few weeks or so, my daughter and I plunge into that twilight zone known as the cinema.  Sometimes, we find quality in the lowest budget movies.  Other times, we leave an A-rater in disappointment. 

This time, we found ourselves truly in the middle ground.  Beyond the Time Barrier hardly has the luster of a high-budget production, but neither is it the worst of the C-rate sludge. 

First, a summary:

Major William Allison is a modern-day Air Force test pilot.  At the zenith of his first suborbital flight in the "X-80" (looking suspiciously like one of the new F-102 interceptors), he finds himself hurled forward some 64 years.  He does not discover this immediately–when Allison arrives at the decayed ruins of "Sands Air Force Base," he hasn't a clue what's happened.  This bit is nicely done and strongly reminiscent of the debut episode of The Twilight Zone, even to Allison's shouting of its title: "Where is everybody?"

We soon find out.  Allison is shot unconscious by a ray gun controlled by the Security Captain of an underground citadel.  When the pilot comes to, he is in the custody of several armed guards and one lovely young maiden.  After a brief questioning by the Captain and his boss, the citadel's "Controller," and a stint in the city dungeon, populated by bald mutants, Allison is given free run of the city.  It seems that Trirene, the Controller's granddaughter, has taken a liking to Allison.  The pilot finds the city a strange place, beautifully constructed, but its people are all deaf-mutes with the exception of the Controller, his Captain, and the insane-seeming mutants.  Trirene is a special case–she is a telepath, which makes things awfully convenient for Allison.

There is one other group of humans in the city: the Escapes.  Like Allison, they are people who flew their spacecraft fast enough, and in the right trajectories, to end up in the future.  Two are scientists from 1994, residents of planetary colonies.  Another is a Russian space pilot from 1973.  They inform Allison that the Earth has been doomed by atomic testing, which has destroyed the atmospheric/magnetospheric layer that protects the surface from hard radiation.  All the people left are sterile or mutated.  Allison is wanted so that he can mate with Trirene and foster a new generation.

Lucky Allison!  But he is persuaded by the Escapes to try flying back in his rocket plane on a path that will take him back to 1960 in the hopes that he might warn the world of their impending doom.  The Russian pilot frees all the mutants as a distraction–they ravage the city, pouncing on the fleeing citizens and eating them alive.  This is the scene the trailers boasted as making the film "the scariest ever made!"  More on this later.

Then the plan goes to Hell.  Each of the Escapes, in turn, betrays Allison for a chance to fly back to their own time.  Trirene is killed in a scuffle with the last one.  The Controller, bereaved, wishes Allison luck and sends him on his way.


My daughter observed at this point, "I don't know how they got the cameraman up there… but they sure aren't going to be able to bring him down!"

Allison makes it back, and he is able to warn his colleagues, but the movie has a twist: Allison has returned an old, feeble man–the consequence of Breaking the Time Barrier.. backwards, I imagine.

The End

I'll be honest in my admission that i enjoyed the film, though I likely would not remember it a year from now if not for the commiting of my thoughts on it to print in this article.  There is uneven pacing, some truly bad acting (particularly the Captain), ridiculous science, and plot holes big enough to plunge an X-80 through (for instance, if the scientists who drew up Allison's flight plan all wanted to go back to their own time, how can Allison use that plan to get back to 1960?).  The special effects are of the crudest sophistication.  I can take or leave the "atomic testing will doom us" plot.  I find that reviewers often praise a movie for its moralizing messages, but this one falls flat for me.

But the citdael is lovely, with a fine unifiying triangular motif.  I have since learned that the "set" was actually a model city of the future built for the Texas State Fair in Dallas last year.  There are two female characters of note: the truly lovely and charming Trirene and the canny Russian pilot, Markova.  I thought the scenes depicting the mutant attack were effective, though my daughter cared too little about the citizens to be disturbed by their grisly deaths.  I appreciated the lack of antagonists through much of the movie. 

My daughter called the film "mediocre."  She may be right, but the film won't be a total waste of your evening, particularly if the popcorn is extra tasty.

I'm off to Japan, tomorrow!  Expect updates to be slightly delayed, but with exciting photographic supplements.