THE BEAST FROM 20,000 FATHOMS: Blu-ray (Warner Bros., 1953) Warner Home Video
Shot on a
shoestring for what it would cost to make a 30-second commercial today,
director, Eugène Lourié’s indie-made, The
Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953) remains a landmark in sci-fi picture-making,
not the least for the combined efforts of Fred Freiberger, Eugène Lourié, Louis
Morheim and Robert Smith on a very persuasive screenplay (balancing the ‘factual
data’) with master stop-animation specialist, Ray Harryhausen’s mind-blowing triumph
in the creation of ‘the Rhedosaurus’ –
a wholly fictionalized prehistoric creature, presumably startled from its
ice-age hibernation by an atomic bomb near the Arctic Circle. Aside: those with
keen eyes will recognize the bomb footage as the Baker test, discharged in the
tropics, near the isle of Bikini Atoll on July 1, 1946. Double aside: I
sincerely encourage anyone who has never seen this actual footage to seek it
out on YouTube. It is terrifying! But I digress. The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms picks up where all this radioactive
fallout leaves off – resuscitating man’s worst nightmare; a creature,
impervious to our modern-age weaponry, and one, seemingly hellbent on mankind’s
annihilation. By today’s impatient standards, it takes a while for this beast
to appear. We do catch glimpses of the Rhedosaurus as it terrorizes a pair of
scientists caught in a perilous blizzard while on a routine survey near the
U.S. observatory. But otherwise, the first act is almost exclusively devoted to
the shared disbelief in this fantastic finding when one of the survivors from
this first attack, physicist, Tom Nesbitt (Swiss-born, Paul Hubschmid – a.k.a. Paul
Christian) is routinely dismissed by his superior, Colonel Jack Evans (Kenneth
Tobey – who reached the apex of his fame two years earlier in another
low-budgeted sci-fi masterpiece: Howard Hawks’ The Thing from Another World).
Lest we
remember, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms
was made at a time when ‘story’ was as
important – perhaps (gasp!) even more so
than special effects. So, it takes a while before this ‘beast’ resurfaces; this
time, to capsize a pair of fishing boats, and later, topple a lighthouse from
its craggy perch. This latter incident was, in fact, what inspired Harryhausen
to partake of the picture; stripped directly from Ray Bradbury's short story.
Bradbury’s tale would serve as inspiration in other ways too. First announced
in the trades as ‘The Monster from
Beneath the Sea’, it was Harryhausen who brought Bradbury’s story to the
attention of Jack Dietz, whose production house was gearing up to make the picture. Serialized
in The Saturday Evening Post as The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, Bradbury’s
tale would later be anthologized under the less-impressive title, ‘The Fog Horn’. Central to the plot of Bradbury’s
work was the marine-based prehistoric dinosaur’s destruction of the lighthouse,
depicted in the stark light of day. In the movie, Harryhausen stages a similar
sequence on a moodily lit and slightly foggy night, with bone-chilling
effectiveness; the super-imposition of miniatures on models and live-action
footage, re-combined in the camera to achieve an uncanny level of verisimilitude.
Shooting in silhouette also hides a lot of sins and imperfections in the
process itself. Let us be clear, here. While Harryhausen was a master in his
craft, his effects, in no way compare to the smoothly executed CGI we are used
to seeing today. However, what they maintain, spectacularly well, despite changing
technologies and tastes, is a queasily unsettling sense of dread that not even
today’s CGI can top.
Harryhausen’s
creature effects are veteran paradigms in stop-animation, honed from his early
tenure and experiences at RKO, working under Willis O'Brien, the man who
created the original King Kong (1933).
The monster in The Beast from 20,000
Fathoms looks nothing like Bradbury’s described Brontosaurus-esque animal;
Harryhausen, preferring the Tyrannosaurus-Rex as his prototype, with slight
modifications to add a more reptilian quality, and, for menace, quadrupedal in
size. Plans to have the Beast snort fire were scrapped when the effect proved
well beyond the SFX allotted budget. Nevertheless, poster art depicted a
flame-throwing Beast’ and would, in hindsight, prove the inspiration for the Japanese-produced
Gojira (1954 – a.k.a. Godzilla). Also, to keep costs manageable,
the original ‘fabricated’ dinosaur bones,
toppled by a scatterbrained Kate Hepburn during the climax of RKO’s Bringing Up Baby (1938) were borrowed
and reassembled inside a set depicting University Professor, Dr. Thurgood Elson’s
(Cecil Kellaway) paleontology lab. For the imaginative finale, a showdown
between the Beast and the military at New York’s Coney Island, real footage of
the Cyclone Racer in Long Beach, California was wed to Harryhausen’s split-matte
process, allowing for an almost seamless integration of foreground miniatures
of coaster track, decimated by the marauding dino, fire effects, and stop-animation
of the beast to ‘interact’ with terrorized riders and the advancing military.
In the eleventh
hour of production, Jack Dietz was offered, what appeared to be, a lucrative wholesale
price from Warner Bros. to buy the picture outright. Overwhelmed by his ‘good
fortune’, Dietz sold his interests to the studio and was thereafter left
kicking himself when The Beast from
20,000 Fathoms became a colossal hit, grossing $2.25 million in the U.S.
alone. With Warner’s acquisition of the movie, Michel Michelet’s original score
was replaced by new compositions commissioned from David Buttolph. Harryhausen
had expressed his own fervor to have Max Steiner write the music. It would have made sense, as Steiner – renown as
the Dean of American film scoring – not only had written the music for the
original King Kong (so, he came well
versed to the milieu of sci-fi) but was, in fact, under contract to Warner Bros.
In this instance, however, Steiner’s
slate of pending projects proved too overwhelming. So, Buttolph did the
picture, contributing what is still regarded as the singular most influential cues
ever written for vintage sci-fi. It set the tone for an entire generation of
fifties’ monster movies yet to follow it. For its sheer ferocity, Buttolph’s
score is immensely satisfying – punctuating the Beast’s maniacal attacks with ominous
flourishes.
The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms begins with Buttolph’s
haunting main title. From here, we digress to ‘Operation Experiment’ in the Arctic Circle. Immediately following
the detonation of a nuclear bomb, physicist, Thomas Nesbitt rather
prophetically muses, “What the cumulative
effects of all these atomic explosions and tests will be…only time will tell.”
Good call, as this particular explosion has stirred a 200-ft carnivorous Rhedosaurus,
long thought to be extinct, from its suspended animation of nearly a million years.
This Beast is hungry. And Nesbitt is narrowly its first snack, surviving the
assault while another colleague is eaten alive. Nesbitt’s shell-shocked account
is dismissed outright and credited as frost-bitten delirium by Colonel Evans. While
Nesbitt recovers in an army hospital, placated by the kindly Dr. Morton (Frank
Ferguson), who can find no outward signs of physical trauma in his patient, but
clearly thinks Nesbitt’s mental acuity requires closer observation, the Beast
strikes, sinking a fishing ketch off the Grand Banks; then, destroying another
near Marquette, Canada. The sole survivor of the first attack, French-speaking Captain
George LeMay (Leo Mostovoy) is criticized as having lost his mind, and refuses
to speak to Nesbitt. Meanwhile, the Beast wrecks a lighthouse off the coast of
Maine. Discovering another survivor from the first disaster, Jacob Bowman (Jack
Pennick), is suffering from devastating flashbacks in a Canadian hospital,
Nesbitt encourages Bowman to return with him to New York, to help identify the
creature from a series of drawings, provided to him by Dr. Elson’s assistant,
Lee Hunter (Paula Raymond). Initially, only Lee believes Nesbitt’s story. Now,
with corroboration from Bowman, Elson concurs there may be something to these
increased sightings of a ‘beast-like’ creature.
Charting a map
of the beast’s path of destruction thus far, Elson proposes it is returning to
the Hudson River where fossilized Rhedosaurus remains were first discovered. To
support his theory, Elson gets the military to lower him in a diving bell into
the Hudson River Canyon. Alas, Professor Elson’s worst nightmares are realized
when the beast materializes from out of the murky waters. Unable to send a warning
topside, the beast consumes the diving bell with Elson inside it. Now, the
beast makes its way to Manhattan, to devastate the neighborhoods near the
docks. We momentarily digress to a furious montage of newspaper accounts,
estimating the gravity of the situation: 180 confirmed dead, 1500 injured, and
damages at roughly $300 million. Proven wrong, Colonel Jack Evans rises to the
occasion, constructing an electrified barricade that momentarily delays the
Rhedosaurus’ onslaught. He has his men
blast a gaping wound in the beast’s throat with a bazooka. This drives the
creature back into the sea, but it also unleashing a toxic contagion that kills
many more civilians. As this precludes
blowing up the Rhedosaurus outright or even setting it ablaze, lest it trigger
an all-out plague, Nesbitt comes up with the intriguing solution: shoot the
beast full of radioactive isotopes. These will burn it from the inside without
releasing the contagion. The finale to The
Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, while exhilarating, is just a tad silly to say
the least. Luring the Rhedosaurus to Coney Island, military sharpshooter,
Corporal Stone (Lee Van Cleef) rides the Cyclone roller coaster to the apex of
its first hill, taking dead aim with a rifle grenade loaded full of radioactive
isotopes. Skillfully, he fires the necessary kill shot into the Beast’s gaping
wound. This causes it to uncontrollably thrash. The coaster sparks and is
engulfed in flames; the Rhedosaurus, succumbing to isotope poisoning and – wait for it – heat stroke.
The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms is amusingly ridiculous,
but so imaginatively plotted as to easily allows for our suspension of
disbelief. Ray Harryhausen’s stop-animation succeeds, not only at instilling terror,
but giving the Beast its unique soul and personality. The effects, while dated,
work because the movie is not entirely hinged on these action-oriented
vignettes. All of the human actors involved play their part with great sincerity;
particularly, Paul Christian, who cuts the figure of an amiable and very
handsome leading man. The son of a Swiss accountant, Christian trained at Max
Reinhardt’s Seminar of Dramatic Art in Vienna and reached the zenith of his
European acting career in the mid-forties. Miraculously, his presence in
several well-received German movies made under the Nazi occupation did nothing
to impact his move into Hollywood in 1948. And although he worked steadily, the
pictures assigned him were hardly of the star-making caliber. Despite initially signing a 7-year contract, Christian’s
disillusion with how Hollywood perceived his talents caused him to buy out his
contract after only 4-years and return to post-war Germany where his prospects
were infinitely better served, and, where he continued to work until 1992. He
died of a pulmonary embolism, in 2001, age 84.
The other great performance
in The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms
belongs to twice-Oscar-nominated, South African-born, Cecil Kellaway – at age
63, in 1953, a very spry old soul with plenty of charm to recommend him. In
Kellaway’s youth, the family relocated to Australia where he studied
engineering before succumbing to the acting bug. Touring as a stage actor for
3-years throughout Asia, North and South America and Europe, Kellaway
eventually broke into the then fledgling Australian movie industry in the early
1930’s, and, by the end of the decade, secured a screen test at RKO, leading to
a contract. He appeared in undistinguished parts in studio-ground
B-movies, achieving his first sizeable role in Blond Cheat (1938). Steadily, his prospects improved, particularly
after playing the doting father in 1939’s weepy, Wuthering Heights (1939). At this point, Kellaway was repeatedly
loaned out to rival studios. Although he frequently tired of playing ‘second
fiddle’ to other stars, Kellaway’s nature adapted itself spectacularly well and
he became one of the hardest-working, and most memorable ‘character’ actors of
his generation – never, to carry a picture, but always adorn it with breezy
aplomb. Twice, Oscar knocked on his door – always the bridesmaid, but never the
bride: nominated for his whimsical portrait of a wily leprechaun in 1948’s The Luck of the Irish, and again, as
the effervescent Catholic priest, in 1967’s Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. After a lengthy illness, Kellaway
died at the West Los Angeles’ Convalescent Home on February 28, 1973. He was
83.
The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms has been available
on Blu-ray for some time. That it has taken me this long to get around to
reviewing it is a mystery, as it has been one of my favorite go-to’s for a
night of hokey good-natured sci-fi adventure. Warner Home Video’s 1080p
offering – one of their last released outside of WAC’s archive, offers a
spectacular transfer, with stunning clarity, a light smattering of grain
looking very indigenous to its source, and some gorgeous tonality and contrast
in its grey scale. It goes without saying, the stock footage of the Bikini
Atoll detonation is grainier than the rest of the studio-bound stuff. It’s
newsreel – not Hollywood, folks! However, there seems to be some discrepancy among the noted websites, whether or not The
Beast from 20,000 Fathoms was originally released in tinted sepia. This disc
is in B&W, the way I first discovered this movie waaaay back in the mid-1970’s,
perpetually resurrected as part of Saturday afternoon’s double-billed ‘Creature Feature’. This Blu-ray looks
great and will surely not disappoint fans. The audio is a bit of a muddle.
Certain scenes suffer from dialogue that is inaudible at regular listening
levels, while sound effects and Buttolph’s score tend to dominate the sound
field. Extras are informative, including a Q&A with Ray Harryhausen and Ray
Bradbury, and a brief ‘making of’ featurette with both men affectionately
waxing about their participation on the movie. We also get a vintage newsreel
and theatrical trailer. Bottom line: The
Beast from 20,000 Fathoms is a must have for die-hard sci-fi collectors.
This Blu-ray affords it the class ‘A’ treatment it justly deserves. Highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
3.5
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