A crew of U.N. astronauts think they’re the first Earthlings
to set foot on the moon. Imagine their surprise when they find a Union Jack
planted there already. The strange discovery leads U.N. representatives to a
rest home where they meet the man who helped transport that flag to the
seemingly barren satellite. Back in 1899, Arnold Bedford (Edward Judd) was a
ne’re-do-well playwright living in a cottage near mad scientist Joseph Cavor
(Lionel Jeffries), inventor of a metallic goo capable of deflecting gravity.
Together the men scheme to use this “Cavorite” to lift a little vessel straight
to the moon where they encounter a race of insect-like aliens.
Nathan Juran’s adaptation of H.G. Wells’s First Men in the Moon is like two very
different movies. The first 45 minutes, concerned with everything that goes
down on Earth, plays like a goofy Absent Minded Professor Disney flick for
kids. The second takes a dark turn as Cavor suddenly becomes less hapless and
more philosophical and Bedford succumbs to a disturbing hawkishness. Here First Men in the Moon falls in line with
fifties science-fiction monster movies, and it is by far the more interesting
section of the movie. On the moon, Cavor, Bedford, and Bedford’s fiancé Kate
(Martha Hyer), who accidentally comes along for the ride, move from strange
environment to stranger environment, while the assortment of creatures—some
wondrous Ray Harryhausen stop-motion creations; some kids in rubber monster
suits—apparently threaten them, though it’s possible that the humans are the
real threats. The moon portion of First
Men is surprisingly complex, with our ostensible heroes either making
genuine sacrifices for the sake of pacifism and good will or succumbing to Eisenhower-era
paranoia. By the time we get to the last scene, in which a man takes
satisfaction in the death of an entire civilization, it’s hard to even remember
that 45 minutes of family-friendly comedy ever took place.
That’s a good thing for First
Men in the Moon, since it leaves the picture feeling better than it
probably is. Edward Judd and Lionel Jeffries are both very good comedic actors,
but their Earth-bound capering feels like it goes on forever. The decision to
shoot in widescreen Panavision depleted the budget, which may account for why
so much of the film takes place on Earth and certainly accounts for the
costumed aliens that are so much less effective than their stop-motion overlords.
The difficulty of constructing sets long enough for Panavision accounts for the
preponderance of traveling matte shots. Despite those issues First Men in the Moon is still half a great movie willing to deal with some pretty weighty
matters. Plus, Harryhausen’s psychedelic sets and creepy creatures are superb.
Twilight Time’s blu-ray is pretty terrific too, presenting First Men in the Moon without a blemish
but with its natural grain. Aside from a couple of passing mildly rough
elements, the film looks great and it’s a relief that Harryhausen’s effects
hold up so well under the HD microscope. Twilight Time supplements the feature
with a fun but very short vintage featurette that ties the film to NASA’s
actual space program, a brief video introduction from Randall William Cook (a
special effects artist whose work includes animation design in the Lord of the Rings movies), and Cook’s
feature commentary with Ray Harryhausen. Recorded shortly before the master’s
death, the commentary is a bit slow moving and Cook is a bit too insistent
about the film’s “perfection,” but there are still some interesting tidbits
here and there and it’s always a pleasure to hear Harryhausen discuss his own
work. First Men in the Moon also
includes an isolated score track and is available in a limited run of 5,000
units. Get one on Screen Archives.com here.
