20 MILLION MILES TO EARTH

Directed by Nathan Juran. 1957. United States.

Designed as a showcase piece for the stop-motion animation and technical wizardry of Ray Harryhausen, 20 MILLION MILES TO EARTH would probably be best described as a “KING KONG for the space age”, a rollicking adventure about a manned voyage to Venus that ends tragically with the vehicle crashing into the Mediterranean on its flight back to Earth.

A couple of fishermen in Gerra, a small Sicilian fishing village, witness the crash and row out to the wreckage to search for survivors. Only two men survive the crash: the fatally ill Dr. Sherman and the spaceship’s captain Bob Calder. Later that day, a young, cowboy-obsessed boy named Pepe finds a metal cylinder washed up on the shore. Inside is a gelatinous blob containing an unknown creature. Pepe sells the discovery to a traveling zoologist, Dr. Leonardo. Leonardo’s granddaughter, a medical school student named Marisa, volunteers to help the men found still alive in the spaceship (the local doctor is out of town) but cannot manage to save Dr. Sherman from his illness.

The United States military receives word that the spaceship crashed near Sicily. Project leader Major McIntosh heads to Italy, accompanied by scientist Justin Uhl. As Calder awaits their arrival, the creature inside the blob emerges inside Dr. Leonard’s trailer. Enthralled by the mysterious three-foot-tall creature, Dr. Leonardo and Marisa leave for Rome with the creature locked in a cage in the back of their trailer. By morning, the creature has tripled in size. By the time Calder, McIntosh, and Uhl catch up, the creature has grown to the size of an adult male. Worse, it has broken free from the cage.

The creature (known everywhere but in the movie itself as Ymir) wanders the countryside. It finds a small farm and seeks shelter inside the barn. Finding bags of sulfur, the creature’s natural food on Venus, Ymir begins to eat. Dinner time is interrupted by the angry family dog. Hearing the commotion, the farmer enters the barn rifle in hand. Before he can shoot, Calder and McIntosh arrive, alone with the Gerra police force. They attempt to capture the creature inside an animal cage, but it escapes the barn, mauling the farmer in the process. The Police Commissioner, no longer willing to cooperate with the Americans, decides they need to destroy the creature. Though they attack Ymir head-on, their weapons have no effect. Knowing electricity can stun Ymir into unconsciousness, Calder and Uhl devise a plan to capture it using a large metal net and several electric generators. They succeed and move the unconscious beast, now the size of an elephant, to a zoo in Rome. Keeping Ymir under electric anesthetic, they begin examining the slumbering monstrosity. Unfortunately, a freak accident causes a massive power outage. Ymir awakens and breaks free of the zoo, leaving a trail of destruction through Rome.

The allusions to KING KONG are obvious. Kong was captured for commercial exploitation. Ymir is captured for scientific exploitation. By learning how the creature survives on Venus’ hostile surface, the scientists seek to create a new breathing apparatus. Why? To strip Venus of its natural minerals, of course. However, the strongest similarities are with the monsters themselves. A devotee and student of Willis O’Brien, the pioneering stop-motion animation genius who provided the effects for KING KONG, Harryhausen followed in O’Brien’s footsteps by giving his creations genuine emotion. Like Kong, Ymir is nothing more than a wild animal set loose in an unfamiliar world. Small touches, like the way the scaly beast scratches its chin or adopts a curious posture when it comes across a flock of sheep, help make this ingenious creation of clay and metal into something incredibly lifelike.

Despite modern advancements in computer-generated imagery, I find stop-motion animation spectacularly effective. We intuitively know that the CGI landscapes and battles in later STAR WARS films or AVATAR are nothing more than fancy pieces of computer animation. As a result, I find the impact lessened. Though they may be impressive, they lack any real sense of tactility. They’re like air. But with stop motion, as jerky and bizarre as it may be, I know I am watching something real being manipulated behind the scenes. It’s an artist’s physical creation. While I was a great fan of the MonsterVerse GODZILLA series, I prefer the Japanese films for much the same reason. These effects (practical, real-world objects) invite the viewer to enjoy the process of creating the film itself. Seeing the seams and how the film was created through multiple processes and a real combination of artisans and performers… It helps the film transcend simple entertainment in a way computer-generated imagery never could and never will.

20 MILLION MILES TO EARTH has its fair share of flaws. For example, we are told that Ymir cannot be harmed by gunfire, yet during the climax, it is clearly being wounded by machine gun rounds and bazooka blasts. The love story between Calder and Marisa, while well handled, amounts to nothing in the end. The physical representations of Ymir are all over the place. When the creature breaks free from the zoo, it engages in a royal rumble with an elephant. They are roughly the same size. But three scenes later, as Calder hides around the corner from Ymir, it looks like it has grown another 30 feet. One scene later, it’s back to elephant size. Some of the rotoscoping is a bit dodgy, and the performances rarely register the emotional tone the film needs. But I could not care less about any of that.

Ultimately, 20 MILLION MILES TO EARTH is a visual feast for lovers of stop-motion animation and practical effects. Every time I watch the film, it astounds me. The level of detail and artistic excellence in Harryhausen’s work elevates the film, turning what could have been a disposable sci-fi yarn into a genuine classic of the genre.