There are a vast number of old school movies to sit through on a miserable wet Sunday afternoon. Or perhaps even when the sun is shining. After all some films are worth staying inside for any day of the week. There's a certain cosy mood generated by some of them. This is certainly the case with the swashbuckling adventure stories featuring the creations of effects wizard and artist Ray Harryhausen. 'Harry who?' I seem to recall asking as a youngster, when the day's television schedule was being discussed. But realising it was the film with the Cyclops battling a fire breathing dragon, I would undoubtedly spend the next few hours mesmerised. Some decades later and it seems that little has changed.
For one reason or another the realistic look and texture of the physical models hooked me instantly at the time. The animation had a certain kind of movement and detail. Harryhausen worked in a very recognisable kind of personality, to even the
most brutal monsters, imbuing them with real character. This style of
hand animated effects had great appeal to me, and it's had a lasting charm. In some
ways I kind of feel bad for the directors involved. Who was behind the camera? Who were the human actors? These details aren't as important somehow. But it's also great
to know that an artist got such recognition. They remain his films in the memory of anyone reminiscing about this kind of thing.
They have a kind of otherworldly magic, and the marketing team of the time knew it. It's always funny seeing the hyperbole offered in the opening credits or on the
posters for these sort of features. A 'miracle' they called it, and maybe they're right. All kinds of extravagant brand terms are often used. It's clearly a big sales pitch, but it's strangely appropriate. Even as they start to use increasingly outlandish terms like 'Dynamation', 'SuperDynaMation' or
'Dynarama'. It's all the same stuff, the same animated effects and projection of live action elements. But it's hard to say it's false advertising.
The results are immediately distinctive. There's an obvious look to most of the effects shots as they composite two layers of film. Combining the human beings and full sized sets with the animated characters often lends it all very a grainy look. However much of the process still remains very mysterious. There must have been so much time and effort involved in sequences that become more and more elaborate in each film. The lighting gets more interesting, the creatures become more complex. A sword fight against a single skeleton becomes a whole melee. The fantastical monsters get more arms or more heads as things progress.
Even the jump from black and white to colour heralds other improvements. In the first of the features in this era, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, it's impressive how much charm some of the creatures have. Taking cues from both the Venusian Ymir in 20 Million Miles to Earth rather and the sea monster in The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, these new creations are both sympathetic and more sinister. Despite their violent natures the Cyclops have a strangely relatable quality. One individual seems so irritated by getting injured or having his treasure stolen. There's an expressive quality to the animation which goes beyond the basic materials that each model is made from. They are truly being brought to life, through painstaking work and artistry.
Elsewhere there's an intentional reverse of this. Removing this relatability from the antagonists has another effect; they become far more menacing. The living statues Talos in Jason and the Argonauts and Kali from The Golden Voyage of Sinbad have no expressive facial features at all, becoming infinitely creepier as a result. These are totally emotionless characters, inviting us to perceive a cold meanness and a ruthless attitude. It's perhaps even colder than the frowning skeleton army which moves with more energy. This divide in character types, between those which are straight up horror creatures and those which are more like real animals with personalities, is a lot of fun to see in action.
Of course the final culmination of all these ideas combines both of these approaches. In what is unfortunately the last film of its kind, Clash of the Titans includes Ray's most impressive creation, Medusa the Gorgon. It's a kind of magnum opus moment that includes everything that came before. She's got animal movement, deadly magical powers, and manages to evoke a real sense of dread. It's also a masterclass in lighting animation. As a result it manages to marry the live action elements perfectly as Perseus navigates his hellish tomb. With really tense pacing and great sound design it all comes together to emphasise the creepy design work. It's real movie magic.
The acting may be endlessly hammy in some of these pictures, whether they were made in the 1950s or the 1970s. The hair styles along often betray these ancient fantasy worlds, showing us the period that they were produced in. Just take a look at the evolution of Sinbad actors between films. Or the changes as beards and afros become fashionable. Jokes about hashish and darker scenes of violence also give away the changes between each era. The accents used can also be pretty bad, ranging from your typically classical British voices for Greek stories, to the later attempts to suggest characters from Eastern lands. Some are simply American. But the human element itself is never the main appeal.
It's true that there are plenty of good appearances along the way. Examples include the the likes of Tom Baker, Nigel Green and Maggie Smith. These are often grand theatrical performances that suit the scale of the stories being told. But not everything holds up. Beyond the hand crafted animation some of the other visual effects techniques may seem pretty dated. The scripts themselves are usually simple quest adventures. But it makes them no less entertaining and impressive considering their age. They're never just the sum of these parts, and a lot of the time this all adds to the fun of the experience.
All of these techniques have been overshadowed by the advent of modern computer graphics. Realistically speaking there are of course better examples of stop-motion. But this doesn't really matter and as a product of their time they're second to none. I can always get into a movie sequence whether it uses some 1980s go-motion, or classic dynamation. I would have liked to see the originally conceived version of Jurassic Park, the one without the CGI. Just imagine the kind of techniques that might have been achieved if the old methods got a second wind in 1993, in the same way Disney animation enjoyed a renaissance in the 1990s. It would have really been something to see.
For me it's hard to be so objective. Ray Harryhausen's imagination and skill levels are unlikely to get old
any time soon after so many years. But I hope they
stand up for any potential new audiences. Perhaps for those of a certain age these will be just as appealing. For long time fans I recommend taking a look at
his work on paper, as his ideas and plans before building any sculptures
is just as impressive (a lavish book of illustrations and concepts is
available.) In recent years there have also been exhibitions that are worth checking out. But at this stage you've read this far into my rambling blog, so I'm probably preaching to the converted.
It's fitting that the best examples of his work are all involve ancient mythology, and are full of strange creatures and undiscovered continents. These cinematic adventures have themselves become legendary in their own right. His classic techniques are a kind of ancient sorcery in their own way. Chilly afternoons may still feel the most appropriate time to visit a Mysterious Island or two. But there will always be time to revisit uncharted seas, regions inhabited by lost cultures, and far flung lands on the edge of the world.
