Harryhausen is the only technician on this site with his own page, and the reason is that the films are his instead of the directors’. He developed the sequences, animated them alone, and productions were built around what he intended to make. The method was stop motion combined with rear projection, which he branded Dynamation, allowing a model to appear behind and in front of live-action elements in the same shot. One man in a room positioned every frame by hand, twenty-four a second.
Harryhausen is the reason I still get giddy about practical effects.
Picture one man in a room nudging a model a fraction of an inch, twenty-four times for every second of film, for months on end. You can feel the hand in every shot. Computer creatures can be flawless and not move me at all, and his skeletons, stiff joints and all, delight me.
Spielberg, Lucas, Cameron, Jackson, Burton and Del Toro have all named him directly. Every rating below is the one carried by the review it links to, with ties broken by year.
1. Jason and the Argonauts (1963)
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"The skeleton fight took four and a half months to animate and has never been surpassed."
Jason and the Argonauts is Harryhausen’s masterpiece and the skeleton sequence is the reason. Seven skeletons fight three men, each skeleton independently animated, with the live actors having rehearsed the choreography against nothing and held it precisely enough to match.
It took four and a half months to produce about three minutes of screen time. The actors had shot their scenes first, fighting empty air to a count, and Harryhausen had to position every skeleton frame by frame to connect with movements already committed to film.
The rest is nearly as strong. Talos the bronze giant turning his head with an audible metal groan, the harpies, and Hydra. Tom Hanks has called it the greatest film ever made. That’s an exaggeration the reviewer here’s closer to than to the people correcting him.
The actors had shot their scenes first, fighting empty air to a count, and Harryhausen had to position every skeleton frame by frame to connect with movements already committed to film.
Talos turning his head with an audible metal groan is the other sequence people remember, and the sound of the joints is doing as much work as the animation.
Tom Hanks has called it the greatest film ever made. That’s an exaggeration this page is closer to than to the people correcting him.
The skeleton fight is my favorite three minutes of effects work on film, and the four and a half months behind it only make me fonder of it. The actors swung at empty air to a count and he matched every blow. Hanks overstates the case, but not by as much as his critics like to think.
2. The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958)
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"The film where Harryhausen invented the modern fantasy adventure."
The 7th Voyage of Sinbad is the first feature presented in Dynamation as an advertised process. That means it’s the point where the technique became a selling proposition instead of an effect. The creature roster established the template every fantasy adventure has used since: a cyclops, a dragon, a two-headed roc and a skeleton swordsman, encountered in sequence on a voyage.
The skeleton duel here’s the prototype for the seven in Jason five years later, and Bernard Herrmann’s score is the first of four he wrote for Harryhausen and the best of them.
The creature roster established the template every fantasy adventure has used since: a cyclops, a dragon, a two-headed roc and a skeleton swordsman, encountered in sequence on a voyage.
Bernard Herrmann’s score is the first of four he wrote for Harryhausen and the best of them, with the cyclops theme built on low brass that sounds like weight.
It’s the first feature presented in Dynamation as an advertised process. That made the technique a selling proposition instead of an effect. 7th Voyage is pure pleasure for me, the cyclops above all. Herrmann’s low brass gives that creature a weight the model alone couldn’t, and the voyage-of-monsters shape still feels fresh even though every fantasy adventure since has borrowed it. My one small complaint is that Sinbad himself is the least interesting thing on the ship.
3. Mysterious Island (1961)
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"Verne adapted with giant animals and a retired Captain Nemo behind all of it."
Mysterious Island adapts Verne’s 1874 novel with heavy liberty, and the liberty is the reason it works. Escaped Civil War prisoners land by balloon on an island populated by oversized creatures. The revelation is that the giants are Nemo’s work. He’s retired to the island after the events of Twenty Thousand Leagues and is enlarging animals to solve world hunger. That’s a interesting motive for a monster movie. The giant crab was made from a real crab shell Harryhausen obtained from a museum, and the sequence in which it’s cooked in a geyser is the most memorable thing in it. Herrmann scored this one as well.
The giant crab was made from a real crab shell Harryhausen obtained from a museum, and the sequence where it’s cooked in a geyser is the most memorable thing in the film. The revelation that Nemo is enlarging animals to solve world hunger is a interesting motive for a monster movie and one almost nothing else has used.
Herrmann scored this one as well, and the balloon escape that opens the film is achieved with miniatures and matte work that still reads.
4. Clash of the Titans (1981)
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"His final film, and a farewell to a medium he helped invent."
Clash of the Titans was Harryhausen’s last film and he retired immediately afterward, at sixty-one, having watched the industry move toward the techniques that would replace him. Medusa is the best thing he ever animated. The sequence is lit almost entirely by firelight, she moves with a rattlesnake tail he studied from life, and the scene is frightening in a way none of his earlier creatures attempted. It made around forty-one million on a fifteen million budget, his most commercially successful production, and the cast included Laurence Olivier, Maggie Smith and Ursula Andress, none of whom the effects needed.
Almost entirely firelit, Medusa moves with a rattlesnake tail Harryhausen studied from life, and is the only one of his creations that’s frightening.
It made around forty-one million on a fifteen million budget, his most commercially successful production, and he retired immediately afterward at sixty-one.
The cast included Laurence Olivier, Maggie Smith and Ursula Andress, none of whom the effects needed, and Bubo the mechanical owl is the one element everybody objects to. I’d show the Medusa scene to anybody who claims stop motion can’t frighten. Harryhausen lit her with firelight and moved her like a real snake, and she’s more unnerving than most digital monsters made since. My only gripe is Bubo the owl, and I’d cut him without a second thought.
5. Mighty Joe Young (1949)
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"His first major credit, working under the man who animated King Kong."
Mighty Joe Young is where Harryhausen’s career begins properly. He worked under Willis O’Brien, who had animated King Kong in 1933 and was effectively his teacher, and did the majority of the animation himself.
The film won the Academy Award for special effects and O’Brien collected it. That’s a fair reflection of the credit structure and not of the work. The burning orphanage finale is the sequence that matters, and Joe is animated with more personality than Kong was. That’s the direction Harryhausen would take for the next thirty years. Harryhausen worked under Willis O’Brien, who had animated King Kong sixteen years earlier and was effectively his teacher, and did the majority of the animation himself.
The film won the Academy Award for special effects and O’Brien collected it. That reflects the credit structure instead of the work.
The Oscar going to O’Brien was unjust. Harryhausen did most of the animation, and the credit system of the day kept his name off the statue. I enjoy the film for Joe’s personality, though outside the orphanage fire it runs a bit too sweet for my taste.
Joe is animated with more personality than Kong was. That’s the direction Harryhausen would take for the next thirty years.
6. The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953)
► Read the full review of The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953)
"His first solo feature, and it started the atomic monster cycle."
The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms is Harryhausen’s first film as sole animator and it launched an entire subgenre. A nuclear test in the Arctic wakes a dinosaur. That swims south and destroys New York. It was released a year before Godzilla and the Japanese production has acknowledged the influence. The atomic monster cycle of the 1950s begins here. The Coney Island finale, with the creature destroying a rollercoaster while a marksman climbs it with a radioactive isotope, is the film in one image, and it was made for around two hundred thousand dollars.
It was released a year before Godzilla and the Japanese production has acknowledged the influence. That makes this the origin of the atomic monster film in both hemispheres.
The Coney Island finale has the creature destroying a rollercoaster while a marksman climbs it carrying a radioactive isotope. That’s the film in one image.
It cost around two hundred thousand dollars to make and is Harryhausen’s first film as sole animator.
I’m fond of the Beast because it started so much on so little. Two hundred thousand dollars and a rollercoaster, and the atomic monster cycle was off and running. The human scenes around the creature are stiff, and I’d skip most of them to get back to Coney Island.
7. 20 Million Miles to Earth (1957)
► Read the full review of 20 Million Miles to Earth (1957)
"A creature from Venus grows uncontrollably and dies on the Colosseum."
20 Million Miles to Earth is the most sympathetic creature Harryhausen animated. The Ymir arrives from Venus as a specimen, grows continuously in Earth’s atmosphere, and is hunted through Rome having done nothing except exist.
Harryhausen shot the Rome locations so the finale could take place on the Colosseum, and the sequence in which the creature fights an elephant in a city street is his best use of the process for its own sake.
He regarded the Ymir as among his favorite creations, and the film is the last of his black-and-white productions. The Ymir arrives as a specimen, grows continuously in Earth’s atmosphere, and is hunted through Rome having done nothing except exist. Harryhausen shot the Rome locations so the finale could take place on the Colosseum, and the elephant fight in a city street is the best use of the process for its own sake.
He regarded the Ymir as among his favorite creations, and it’s the last of his black-and-white productions. The Ymir saddens me a little. It never asked to come here, and Rome hunts it anyway. My reservation is the humans doing the hunting, who are so much duller than the thing they’re chasing that I end up on the monster’s side by the halfway mark.
8. The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973)
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"The six-armed Kali fight, which is the most technically demanding thing he attempted."
The Golden Voyage of Sinbad is the second of the three Sinbad films and the most technically ambitious. The animated statue of Kali fights with six arms at the same time, each independently choreographed against live actors.
That’s the hardest thing on this page after the skeletons, and it’s more difficult because six limbs on one body must remain anatomically coherent while fighting. Tom Baker plays the villain the year before he became Doctor Who, and the film’s ship’s figurehead sequence is the other piece worth the entry. It’s minor Harryhausen and minor Harryhausen is still better than most of what replaced it. The Kali statue fights with six arms at the same time, each independently choreographed against live actors. That’s harder than separate figures because one body must stay coherent.
Tom Baker plays the villain the year before he became Doctor Who, and the ship’s figurehead sequence is the other piece worth the entry.
It’s minor Harryhausen and minor Harryhausen is still better than most of what replaced it.
Every film on this page leaves me grateful and a little sore. The industry swapped the craftsman’s hand for faster, cheaper methods, and plenty of what came after has no weight at all. Kali’s six arms, choreographed frame by frame against live actors, should embarrass half the monsters being rendered today.
