The only thing better than Twilight Time's new deal with Columbia Pictures/Sony Pictures Home Entertainment for exclusive Blu-Ray releases was the announcement that their debut entry would be 1961's classic sci-fi saga MYSTERIOUS ISLAND.
The dazzling fade-in, accompanied by Bernard Herrmann's spectacular score, instantly transports nostalgic Baby Boomer movie fans like myself back to their local nabe. I mean, you can practically smell the popcorn.
The picture, a UK/U.S. co-production, is a masterful collaboration of direction, cinematography, music and, last but certainly not least, ground-breaking special effects. Oh, yeah – and the acting ain't so bad either.
MYSTERIOUS ISLAND was the brainchild of prophetic author Jules Verne. It was the sort-of sequel to his enormously successful novel 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Verne was so far ahead of his time that it's still difficult to believe that this 19th century mind ever conceived the bold progressive futuristic ideas that populated these works ...at least not without chemical aid.
As early as 1902, embryonic cinema realized the potential of Verne on the screen. Master illusionist Georges Melies paid homage in his A Trip to the Moon (a liberal adaptation of First Men in the Moon)...20,000 Leagues followed about a decade later via an epic 1916 Universal feature. For producers, Verne filled a void that perfectly melded the two art forms – something that transcended the writer’s vivid imagination – comprising thrilling inventions and action-packed serial-like escapes...something that green lighting showmen recognized aligned the Frenchman with the Bible; in short, he was public domain.
The penny-pinching hands of Walt Disney mined the Verne nuggets for his 1954 blockbuster re-make of 20,000 Leagues. The picture not only went through the roof – being an ideal vehicle for the family producer's first foray into CinemaScope and stereophonic sound – but made so much friggin' money that it enabled the creator of Mickey Mouse to make his dream come true...Jules Verne, in effect, financed Disneyland. Two years later Michael Todd released Around the World in 80 Days. Even bigger! By gross profit adjustment to 2012 box office, both these titles individually earned the equivalent of several billion dollars in contemporary admissions. 80 Days Verne-ing power is so evident that still remains on the list of Top Movie Hits of All Time, alongside the obscene franchise/merchandising revenues garnered by Star Wars and Lord of the Rings – and surpassing the entire library of Judd Apatow flicks, including the offset cast penicillin costs.
But 1950s JV renaissance didn't stop there. Low budget mogul Benedict Bogeaus released a respectable version of From the Earth to the Moon in 1958 – making more than a tidy profit for both himself and Warner Bros. And 1959 saw the unveiling of Fox's grand Verne epic Journey to the Center of the Earth, which helped keep the then-struggling studio afloat.
So it comes as no surprise that partners Charles Schneer and Ray Harryhausen, flush with success from their Technicolor fantasy The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, would embark on a similar search for further crown Jules.
Based in the UK, Harryhausen & Co., working with their distributor Columbia Pictures, assembled quite a crew. Combining British actors (Michael Craig, Joan Greenwood) with required American “names” (Michael Callan, Gary Merrill), the project started to pick up steam once the towering grosses from Journey to Center of the Earth started to be hyped in the industry's trades. The involvement of Herrmann, who had scored the journey to Earth’s center, Sinbad and the yet-to-be-released 3 Worlds of Gulliver, was a no-brainer. Brit d.p. Wilkie Cooper signed on around the same time. The script by the unusual trio of historical, action and pulp scribes John Prebble, Crane Wilbur and Daniel Ullman had all the elements necessary to pack theatres and drive-ins from coast-to-coast and across the pond. For the director, the company brilliantly chose blacklisted Yank Cyril Endfield.
Endfield, whose resume (like Ullman's), included Bowery Boys flicks, had started directing as early as the 1940s. Signed as MGM house talent, his 1942 propaganda short Inflation, featuring Hitler making a long distance call to Satan, so disturbed Louis B. Mayer that it was shelved. So was Endfield. Moving to the less lofty confines of Monogram and RKO, the aspiring filmmaker helmed one of strangest of the Lex Barker Tarzan pics (1952’s Tarzan’s Savage Fury), but before he could continue to show his chops, was outed by HUAC. He fled to England along with fellow ex-pats Joseph Losey, Carl Foreman and other witch hunt victims, biding his time before he could strut his stuff. Aside from writing and directing, Endfield was also a celebrated magician; his fans included no less than Orson Welles, whom he first envisioned and pitched to producer (and former Dead End Kid) Hal E. Chester for the role of the villainous Karswell in Night of the Demon, a picture he was contracted to script. The movie, directed by Jacques Tourneur, better known here as Curse of the Demon has justifiably become a horror classic. Although much of his script was excised (or exorcised), Endfield simply shrugged it off, as he was finally making headway as a director, having struck up a friendship with rising star Stanley Baker. Endfield and Baker's extraordinary sense of adventure and brutal action resulted in the 1957 cult road movie Hell Drivers. They would make several more pics together, including 1965's underrated The Sands of the Kalahari. Their lasting contribution to cinema is unquestionably 1964's Zulu – an epic historical extravaganza which revolutionized the genre.
To a prestidigitator like Endfield, the wonders of Harryhausen's stop motion legerdemain more than piqued his interest (Baker recalled that when the Zulu crew first landed in Africa, they were met by two contingents. The smaller encompassed the local tourism and government factor – the larger a congregation of the world magician's society, determined to meet the man they hailed as nothing less than a modern wizard!). The fact that the director was a superb handler of action and tension-filled suspense was another plus. More than any other Harryhausen picture, MYSTERIOUS ISLAND, with its dramatic opening escape from a Confederate prison during the Civil War, stands alone as an adventure that is so good – it would probably work without any of the acclaimed animator's phantasmagorical effects (an oft-claim which has been known to irk the octogenarian to the tune of, “Oh yeah? Is that so?!!” If you ever meet him, don't bring that up).
With the possible exception of the Gulliver picture, MYSTERIOUS ISLAND contains the least effects of any Harryhausen show – or so it seems (if one chooses to disregard the exciting balloon sequences and later Nautilus segments). Actual “creature comforts” are resigned to four bravura sections. These jaw-dropping moments perfectly flow within the engaging narrative, which not only has these POW escapees land on an uncharted Pacific atoll, but has them meet up (and hook up) with two beauteous British shipwrecked females – the always-amazing Joan Greenwood and her blossoming teenaged niece, starlet Beth Rogan. Like Verne, Greenwood is a visionary and, taking into account the tropical climate, in no time fashions a miniskirt and go-go boots ensemble for the bodacious Rogan. Not only is this a century ahead of its time in regard to the storyline, but it beats the swinging London scene to the punch by a good four years; the result is one special effect that rivals anything Harryhausen could conceive without getting arrested. The other climate-related visual is not so pleasant. The sight of a clothes-shedding Gary Merrill is something akin to the transformations scenes in Altered States. Not that I'm condemning Merrill for his presence – he's a good actor, and commendably impersonates the liberal war correspondent in this piece. Sans togs, however, Merrill's abundant body hair is often downright harrowing to watch – analogous to a human being swallowed by a giant Brillo pad. His jutting brow doesn't make it any easier. Let's put it this way: co-star Percy Herbert, who ably played a Neanderthal in Hammer and Harryhausen's One Million B.C., looks like Fred Astaire in comparison. Point of fact, ex-spouse Bette Davis reported with disgust that Merrill was an obsessed nudist – running around their house in the all together all the time. This apparently even extended itself to rehearsing dialogue – spouting prose while dangling his participle.
Speaking of nature gone wrong, this impeccably segues into a discussion of the cast battling crabs – well, one giant crab, the first of their horrific encounters with the reasons this island is so mysterious. It all ends up as a colossal all-you-can eat jambalaya. In fact, many of these monster confrontations end up on the castaway's dinner table. The second one is an attack by a gargantuan chicken – a duck-tailed fowl that looks like the unholy love child of Charlie Callas and Carrot Top. Watching Joan Greenwood whack its hind quarters with a humongous club is a screen image that could only be bested by the actress using her fantastic voice to threaten, “Depart or I'll beat your bottom to a red monkey ass!” Which, of course, brings us back to Merrill.
The third and most disturbing of the four Harryhausen set pieces revolves around the young lovers, Callan and Rogan. And here's why: we already know that there are oversized monstrous mutations on this isle. So when this hormones-gone-wild duo see gallons of honey pouring down a mountain cave like a waterfall...what do they do? They decide to follow the nectar to the entrance way...Are they nuts?!! Giant crab, giant chicken – what the hell do they think is in there...the Pacific office of the Golden Blossom corporation?!! Once inside, they see the entire wall covered by a skyscraper honeycomb. Do they run like Dick Cheney from his draft board? No – they decide to explore the sticky studio/loft-gauge cubbyholes as if this were the “Why don’t you get a room?!” they so obviously are searching for. Even the swarm of B-52-sized bees can't believe how stupid this pair is and immediately seal them up in the hive, less they be accused of guilt by association. How they elude their insect captors will not be divulged here.
The fourth climactic bout involves that prerequisite sea monster staple – the monolithic squid, ink and all. This fight is made possible through the splendid participation of Captain Nemo, who makes his return to Verne territory via the personage of Herbert Lom (thereby verifying the theory that there really has never been a lousy Captain Nemo on the big screen, i.e., James Mason, Robert Ryan, etc). Lom, dramatically seen emerging from the ocean depths in his version of a wet suit replete with sea shell aqualung, makes his initial appearance more than halfway through the proceedings; with bleached goatee and blow-dried do, he looks like a cross between David Essex and an ensemble member of Quadrophenia-on-Tour . Suffice to say, from the nanosecond he explains that his tinkering is the cause of the locale's giantism – the thespian owns the picture! This brings up an interesting premise. Most folks assume that the Nautilus is an early example of nuclear power – a force Nemo harnessed; thus his leviathan evocations are likely to be highly radioactive. Accepting this hypothesis, what's going to happen to these islanders – now that they have been duly exposed...and even eaten these genetically-tampered specimens? The concept of a hundred foot naked Gary Merrill leveling New York City is too gruesome to grasp. It’s a Newt Gingrich/Stay Puft Ghostbusters capper that's giving me the shakes just thinking about it!
MYSTERIOUS ISLAND in Blu-Ray is a revelation to behold. Of course, nothing is perfect, and 1080p remastering has its tradeoffs, but fortunately here the pros easily smite the cons. The latter is the too intricate detail which, while bringing to fruition ultimate resolution clarity and texture, likewise sore thumbs the shortcomings of pre-digital matte work. Long shots of the island with its belching volcano exhibit an abundance of grain. Ditto the rear screen – a process which the Brits never seemed to get the hang of to begin with. This pristine transfer's cuts to the cast's balloon perils amidst a violent storm reduces the actors to spectral apparitions more apropos to Dickens' famed Christmas tale than to Verne's rousing high adventure. On the plus side, the location interplay with the players, the stunning night, cave and underwater scenes are nearly three dimensional. And leave us not forget – it's Harryhausen in Blu-Ray, dude! The close-ups of his attacking creations are nothing short of astonishing, occasionally bordering on the surreal. The immaculate detail, especially of the bees, demonstrates why he's the master of his craft. Cooper's lush widescreen color photography has never looked better – and this isn't only because of Blu-Ray. The near-mint 35mm print used as Twilight Time's source work is a UK archival copy. How do I know this? The credits list the color process as Technicolor. Not only does it bare the rich ebullient layers indicative of imbibition, but all the U.S. prints were cheaply issued in unstable Eastmancolor; I offer the thousands of existing TV copies now all faded and pink as Exhibit A.
The audio perfectly accentuates the video. Twilight Time gives viewers the option of listening to the soundtrack in either mono or remixed 5.1 digital stereo. It should be noted that the stereo is not bogus enhanced cacophony. In Britain, where this stuff was taken way more seriously than here, MYSTERIOUS ISLAND was originally released in stereophonic sound. That version was thought lost until the 1980s; this track was first unearthed on the old Pioneer Special Edition laserdisc. Speaking of the 1980s, in 1987, I was at a movie and home entertainment show promoting the laser format and actually ran into celebrity guest Ray Harryhausen. Since I had the foresight to bring an LV copy of It Came From Beneath the Sea, I dragged the nervous artist over to my demo area. There on a portable 40” rear projection screen I spun the platter featuring his octopus. Harryhausen had never seen laser, and literally moved in close enough for his nose to touch the screen (admittedly an unsanitary but eventual useful bodily function). “My God,” he exclaimed, “it's better than film.” He was absolutely delighted; however, his glee was a brief one. Hearing the negligible stock Columbia music caused him to shudder. “That awful music!” he moaned. “You know, when we became successful enough to spearhead our own deal with Columbia...no Sam Katzman...our own productions...I decreed that the first expense would be for decent music. That was, of course, 7th Voyage and Bernie Herrmann.” Herrmann's long and fruitful relationship with the fantasy/sci-f film genre began in 1941 with The Devil and Daniel Webster (on radio with Welles' War of the Worlds broadcast). The Ghost and Mrs. Muir followed in 1947...The Day the Earth Stood Still in 1951, and so on. The composer loved working on these projects, and, in particular, on the Harryhausen movies (he considered his score on The 3 Worlds of Gulliver to be one of his finest overall works). When Harryhausen and Columbia could no longer afford Herrmann's fee, the composer, although disappointed, vowed to find them a replacement, and recommended his friend Laurie Johnson for the upcoming First Men in the Moon. Harryhausen never shied from the importance of good film music. Subsequent composers included Jerome Moross and Miklos Rozsa. As with all Twilight Time releases, MYSTERIOUS ISLAND, in addition to yielding both the stereo and mono choices, presents the magnificent Herrmann composition as an IST (isolated score track). There is also the original trailer and the 1961 B&W TV spot – hilariously and shamefully capitalizing upon the Jules Verne brand (“20,000 leagues beyond your wildest dreams!...Journey to the center of your wildest imagination!”).
While a solid hit upon its worldwide release, MYSTERIOUS ISLAND still didn't reap the box office of the previous Verne outings or come close to 7th Voyage of Sinbad (it was nevertheless one of Britain's Top 10 Box Office Champs in 1961). While in no way a disappointment, MYSTERIOUS ISLAND’s year-end grosses dictated that the next Harryhausen would be chock full of SFX and mythic characters. The resulting Jason and the Argonauts is generally accepted as his greatest achievement (with MYSTERIOUS ISLAND a not-too-distant second). Like all TT DVDs and Blu-Rays, MYSTERIOUS ISLAND is a 3000-only Limited Edition. Hairy Gary Merrill aside, chart your course today!
MYSTERIOUS ISLAND: Blu-Ray ONLY. Color. Letterboxed [1.66:1; 16 x 9 anamorphic; 1080p High Definition]. SRP: $34.95.
Twilight Time/Columbia Pictures/Sony Pictures Home Entertainment.
Available exclusively through Screen Archives Entertainment[www.screenarchives.com].
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