Believe it or not, the decade of the 1950’s has long been considered by many to be ‘the Golden Age’ of the Science Fiction film.
You see, audiences were really just starting to embrace stories about the atomic age, space travel, and the growing prospect of ‘life out there.’ Storytellers were not only starting the set the playing field for what was possible but also were ever so slowly pushing the boundaries of what effect science might have on our collective development. As a consequence, filmmakers and producers were equally challenged to find cost effective ways of translating such heady concepts into something that could be captured before the lenses; and audiences – their appetite whetted to go where no man had gone before – were swept up in the process, mesmerized with visions of spaceships, aliens, giants, shrinking people, the atom, time travel, and more. A quick search of IMDB.com indicates that more than 200 features played on movie screens over that fertile period, so it’s easy to understand why many in filmdom and academia look back on it with some fondness.
Of course, it should equally go without saying that not every tale was up to the task of catapulting viewers into tomorrow. A good number of the pictures – owed to the lack of a respectable budget or even a bankable premise – never quite achieved landmark status; and, yes, there are a handful or two (or three) that should probably have been – ahem – left in the oven to cook a bit longer or thrown aside over the risk of ruining someone’s reputation. Storytelling always comes with great risk. Great risk raises the audience’s expectations. Not everything imagined in a screenplay could be rendered with the 50’s state of special effects – many of which were practically invented on-the-fly as were the costumes, props, and sets – so a healthy bit of schlock made it to the marketplace, tarnishing the genre’s reputation when it was just getting started.
Thankfully, studios and distributors continue to release the good, the bad, and even the ugly of these adventures for modern consumers to rediscover; and that’s always a cause for celebration in this corner of the Information Superhighway. The good people at the Warner Archive dug deep into their vault for their 50’s Sci-Fi Collection, a re-release of four features – 1953’s The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms, 1954’s Them!, 1956’s World Without End, and 1958’s Attack Of The 50 Ft. Woman – as just the latest example of keeping the past present in circulation. As one might expect, the quality of the storytelling varies; and yet this still might serve as the best evidence for the highs and lows of SciFi and Fantasy searching to connect with viewers of the era.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
(ADDITIONAL NOTE: In order to meet my statutory obligations to the distributor, I am penning this review a bit differently than I normally do. Being up against a deadline, I am collecting my thoughts on the set here; in the days ahead, I’ll update this post with links to full reviews on each feature. Keep your eyes peeled, readers!)
You see, audiences were really just starting to embrace stories about the atomic age, space travel, and the growing prospect of ‘life out there.’ Storytellers were not only starting the set the playing field for what was possible but also were ever so slowly pushing the boundaries of what effect science might have on our collective development. As a consequence, filmmakers and producers were equally challenged to find cost effective ways of translating such heady concepts into something that could be captured before the lenses; and audiences – their appetite whetted to go where no man had gone before – were swept up in the process, mesmerized with visions of spaceships, aliens, giants, shrinking people, the atom, time travel, and more. A quick search of IMDB.com indicates that more than 200 features played on movie screens over that fertile period, so it’s easy to understand why many in filmdom and academia look back on it with some fondness.
Of course, it should equally go without saying that not every tale was up to the task of catapulting viewers into tomorrow. A good number of the pictures – owed to the lack of a respectable budget or even a bankable premise – never quite achieved landmark status; and, yes, there are a handful or two (or three) that should probably have been – ahem – left in the oven to cook a bit longer or thrown aside over the risk of ruining someone’s reputation. Storytelling always comes with great risk. Great risk raises the audience’s expectations. Not everything imagined in a screenplay could be rendered with the 50’s state of special effects – many of which were practically invented on-the-fly as were the costumes, props, and sets – so a healthy bit of schlock made it to the marketplace, tarnishing the genre’s reputation when it was just getting started.
Thankfully, studios and distributors continue to release the good, the bad, and even the ugly of these adventures for modern consumers to rediscover; and that’s always a cause for celebration in this corner of the Information Superhighway. The good people at the Warner Archive dug deep into their vault for their 50’s Sci-Fi Collection, a re-release of four features – 1953’s The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms, 1954’s Them!, 1956’s World Without End, and 1958’s Attack Of The 50 Ft. Woman – as just the latest example of keeping the past present in circulation. As one might expect, the quality of the storytelling varies; and yet this still might serve as the best evidence for the highs and lows of SciFi and Fantasy searching to connect with viewers of the era.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
(ADDITIONAL NOTE: In order to meet my statutory obligations to the distributor, I am penning this review a bit differently than I normally do. Being up against a deadline, I am collecting my thoughts on the set here; in the days ahead, I’ll update this post with links to full reviews on each feature. Keep your eyes peeled, readers!)
Attack Of The 50 Ft. Woman (1958)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“When an abused socialite grows to giant size because of an alien encounter and an aborted murder attempt, she goes after her cheating husband with revenge on her mind.”
Undoubtedly, Attack is the kind of film that exemplifies what can happen when the production mechanics just can’t match the intensity of the premise. The special effects used throughout the picture – from a mysterious fallen spacecraft to the 50-foot woman herself – benefit only from being consistently bad; and that’s honestly being kind on my part. The central problem is that producers were only able to render such giantism with a pervasive transparent quality – viewers can, literally, see through them on the film – and this negates any sense of realism whatsoever. The result is a B-Movie that shows its B-Movie budget, so this is a hard one to watch except for the obvious laugh factor.
The matriarch of a small desert town, Nancy Archer has apparently been under heavy emotional strain for some time now. Certainly, it doesn’t help matters that her philandering hubby Harry seeks to have to recommitted so that he can not only seize her fortune but also run-off with his newest gal pal; and Attack really never separates its Science Fiction from the silliness of its core melodrama. At best, a case could be made that the lady’s eventual unanticipated growth – space radiation being the guilty culprit this time and not our own primitive knowledge – could be an allegory for her attempt to finally be heard, to finally be seen as women of the era were struggling with identity issues. Given the fact that her eventual struggle is delivered so ridiculously (the giant hand prop looks like a middle school paper mâché project), I’m guessing Attack was never cited as an inspiration for any iteration of the Women’s Movement.
Plenty has been written about the fact that Attack continues to have a long and healthy life among those who worship cult films, and that isn’t hard to accept. From the inanity of its mechanics to its downright stultifyingly performances across the board, the film easily gets classified as ‘high camp’ more often than it does SciFi or Fantasy. On that front, Attack is probably worth a second look, one that I’ll just remain thankful that – as a whole – it clocks in at a palatable 65 minutes. Be thankful for small favors.
For the full review of the film, click here.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“When an abused socialite grows to giant size because of an alien encounter and an aborted murder attempt, she goes after her cheating husband with revenge on her mind.”
Undoubtedly, Attack is the kind of film that exemplifies what can happen when the production mechanics just can’t match the intensity of the premise. The special effects used throughout the picture – from a mysterious fallen spacecraft to the 50-foot woman herself – benefit only from being consistently bad; and that’s honestly being kind on my part. The central problem is that producers were only able to render such giantism with a pervasive transparent quality – viewers can, literally, see through them on the film – and this negates any sense of realism whatsoever. The result is a B-Movie that shows its B-Movie budget, so this is a hard one to watch except for the obvious laugh factor.
The matriarch of a small desert town, Nancy Archer has apparently been under heavy emotional strain for some time now. Certainly, it doesn’t help matters that her philandering hubby Harry seeks to have to recommitted so that he can not only seize her fortune but also run-off with his newest gal pal; and Attack really never separates its Science Fiction from the silliness of its core melodrama. At best, a case could be made that the lady’s eventual unanticipated growth – space radiation being the guilty culprit this time and not our own primitive knowledge – could be an allegory for her attempt to finally be heard, to finally be seen as women of the era were struggling with identity issues. Given the fact that her eventual struggle is delivered so ridiculously (the giant hand prop looks like a middle school paper mâché project), I’m guessing Attack was never cited as an inspiration for any iteration of the Women’s Movement.
Plenty has been written about the fact that Attack continues to have a long and healthy life among those who worship cult films, and that isn’t hard to accept. From the inanity of its mechanics to its downright stultifyingly performances across the board, the film easily gets classified as ‘high camp’ more often than it does SciFi or Fantasy. On that front, Attack is probably worth a second look, one that I’ll just remain thankful that – as a whole – it clocks in at a palatable 65 minutes. Be thankful for small favors.
For the full review of the film, click here.
The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms (1953)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A ferocious dinosaur awakened by an Arctic atomic test terrorizes the North Atlantic and, ultimately, New York City.”
In 1993, audiences were thrilled beyond belief when director Steven Spielberg joined forces with author Michael Crichton to show people that dinosaurs weren’t only necessarily a thing just of the past. The result? Jurassic Park ignited a frenzy at the box office, launching a franchise that endure at the cineplex over three decades later; and the flick spurred an effects revolution that made this prehistoric critters the stuff of legend once more even on the small screen. As usually happens in this case, knockoffs continue to deliver some Jurassic goodness probably once or twice a year around the world; and a whole new generation of children were brought up believing that extinction may not be our collective end.
Fundamentally, 1953’s The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms accomplished what Spielberg and Crichton did four decades earlier. Special effects pioneer Ray Harryhausen unleashed the seminal ‘Beast’ – the Rhedosaurus – on watchers, and it was their worldwide interest that sent ticket sales selling to the total of over $5M globally. While some suggest that Beast’s story is striking similar to the Crichton book, many others more rightly point out that its much closer in tone, theme, and pace to 1954’s Godzilla, a feature production that wouldn’t hit screens until the next year.
Though I’m not as big a fan of the film as are a great many others, I’ll still attest that the single greatest reason to see it is for Harryhausen’s work. His stop-motion effects would essentially set imaginations alive, and its this technology that most credit as launching the ‘giant’ monster movie’ as its own sub-genre. A great deal of its DNA continues to proliferate imitators everywhere, but this is where the mighty behemoths first truly got their due in theaters. Harryhausen – as the central magician – continued spreading his legacy across other flicks – several I honestly enjoy a bit more – but this is really where the future began so far as lumbering atomic creatures will tell you … if they could speak.
For a full review of the film, please click here.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A ferocious dinosaur awakened by an Arctic atomic test terrorizes the North Atlantic and, ultimately, New York City.”
In 1993, audiences were thrilled beyond belief when director Steven Spielberg joined forces with author Michael Crichton to show people that dinosaurs weren’t only necessarily a thing just of the past. The result? Jurassic Park ignited a frenzy at the box office, launching a franchise that endure at the cineplex over three decades later; and the flick spurred an effects revolution that made this prehistoric critters the stuff of legend once more even on the small screen. As usually happens in this case, knockoffs continue to deliver some Jurassic goodness probably once or twice a year around the world; and a whole new generation of children were brought up believing that extinction may not be our collective end.
Fundamentally, 1953’s The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms accomplished what Spielberg and Crichton did four decades earlier. Special effects pioneer Ray Harryhausen unleashed the seminal ‘Beast’ – the Rhedosaurus – on watchers, and it was their worldwide interest that sent ticket sales selling to the total of over $5M globally. While some suggest that Beast’s story is striking similar to the Crichton book, many others more rightly point out that its much closer in tone, theme, and pace to 1954’s Godzilla, a feature production that wouldn’t hit screens until the next year.
Though I’m not as big a fan of the film as are a great many others, I’ll still attest that the single greatest reason to see it is for Harryhausen’s work. His stop-motion effects would essentially set imaginations alive, and its this technology that most credit as launching the ‘giant’ monster movie’ as its own sub-genre. A great deal of its DNA continues to proliferate imitators everywhere, but this is where the mighty behemoths first truly got their due in theaters. Harryhausen – as the central magician – continued spreading his legacy across other flicks – several I honestly enjoy a bit more – but this is really where the future began so far as lumbering atomic creatures will tell you … if they could speak.
For a full review of the film, please click here.
Them! (1954)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“The earliest atomic tests in New Mexico cause common ants to mutate into giant man-eating monsters that threaten civilization.”
Hands down, Them! is the highwater mark for this set. The film has long been celebrated by fans, and there are a good number of filmmakers who’ve sounded off on the greatness of the project. While some of the practical effects may not hold up as well, Them! still demonstrates what was possible at the time, and it remains not only one of the earliest attempts at the ‘Giant Bug’ sub-genre of SciFi and Fantasy but also continues to be one of the best. Additionally, it’s one of my very own favorites.
Something is amiss in the great state of New Mexico when local authorities stumble across a little girl wandering on the edge of the desert. Lo and behold, her family’s travel trailer is located not far away, and the unit has been destroyed. It doesn’t take long before federal authorities become involved, with the specialists acting on a theory that the little Ellinson girl might have been traumatized by some native species which may’ve been substantially altered by the nearby atomic bomb tests in Alamogordo. Before they know it, everyone comes face-to-face with these massive overgrown ants who have adapted to a diet of human flesh!
What makes Them! noteworthy is the fact that – like the best Science Fiction does – it makes its concept relatable to audiences on every level. Which among us wouldn’t be troubled over the sight of giant insects? Who out there in the audience wouldn’t run for his life to escape such a menace? What are we collectively to do should our evolving science produce something that could – if left unchecked – take us to the brink of extinction? As any dinosaur enthusiast can attest, we were built as a species to stand alongside such gargantuan predators; and Them! cleverly positions how we might culturally be doing something today which could lead to our destruction tomorrow.
It’s a cautionary tale, one woven with impressive effects and captivating visuals; and, yes, it definitely still holds up well today.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“The earliest atomic tests in New Mexico cause common ants to mutate into giant man-eating monsters that threaten civilization.”
Hands down, Them! is the highwater mark for this set. The film has long been celebrated by fans, and there are a good number of filmmakers who’ve sounded off on the greatness of the project. While some of the practical effects may not hold up as well, Them! still demonstrates what was possible at the time, and it remains not only one of the earliest attempts at the ‘Giant Bug’ sub-genre of SciFi and Fantasy but also continues to be one of the best. Additionally, it’s one of my very own favorites.
Something is amiss in the great state of New Mexico when local authorities stumble across a little girl wandering on the edge of the desert. Lo and behold, her family’s travel trailer is located not far away, and the unit has been destroyed. It doesn’t take long before federal authorities become involved, with the specialists acting on a theory that the little Ellinson girl might have been traumatized by some native species which may’ve been substantially altered by the nearby atomic bomb tests in Alamogordo. Before they know it, everyone comes face-to-face with these massive overgrown ants who have adapted to a diet of human flesh!
What makes Them! noteworthy is the fact that – like the best Science Fiction does – it makes its concept relatable to audiences on every level. Which among us wouldn’t be troubled over the sight of giant insects? Who out there in the audience wouldn’t run for his life to escape such a menace? What are we collectively to do should our evolving science produce something that could – if left unchecked – take us to the brink of extinction? As any dinosaur enthusiast can attest, we were built as a species to stand alongside such gargantuan predators; and Them! cleverly positions how we might culturally be doing something today which could lead to our destruction tomorrow.
It’s a cautionary tale, one woven with impressive effects and captivating visuals; and, yes, it definitely still holds up well today.
World Without End (1956)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Astronauts returning from a voyage to Mars are caught in a time warp and are propelled into a post-Apocalyptic Earth populated by mutants.”
In plain and impartial language, World Without End is exactly the kind of middle-of-the-road production that the vast majority of projects of the era assemble: it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t awful, either. In hopes of finding the broadest appeal possible, writer/director Edward Bernds through a great many ideas into the script. Space exploration, time dilation, the dangers of nuclear proliferation, sociology, colonization, evolution, anthropology, and even the traditional good versus evil figure into the procedure at various points. In fact, there’s so much going on thematically when less would probably have made for a finer effort: I’ve read that it wasn’t a big box office success but only distinguished itself from the competition well enough to also be considered a solid B-Movie.
On return of their scouting mission of the planet Mars, the crew of the XRM are suddenly catapulted by accident at previously unheard-of speed back toward Earth. Arriving home several centuries later due to the effects of time dilation, they find that our species had explored itself through nuclear war. Eventually, these former astronauts uncover that pockets of survivors remain in struggle with one another – a primitive group along with some peaceniks living underground – and the ongoing battle has kept the world-at-large from recovering. Naturally, these four alpha males come up with a plan to return civilized man to the top of the food chain, even if that means going at it all on their own.
Filmed in Cinemascope (an anamorphic widescreen format invented in 1953), World benefits greatly in this collection by seriously looking and sounding really, really, really terrific. While the exterior shoots were relatively predictable, the interiors of the space capsule and the subterranean compound housing the surviving scientists are a delight to the aesthetics of what early Science Fiction films and shows (like the inevitable Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea, Lost In Space, and Star Trek) would grow into. Arguably, a case could be made that World’s early influence was probably greater than has been studied (as I’ve watched much from the 60’s that looks markedly similar); and maybe someday a scholar will brush off some old texts and give this nifty little film the comparison its owed.
For a full review of the film, please click here.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Astronauts returning from a voyage to Mars are caught in a time warp and are propelled into a post-Apocalyptic Earth populated by mutants.”
In plain and impartial language, World Without End is exactly the kind of middle-of-the-road production that the vast majority of projects of the era assemble: it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t awful, either. In hopes of finding the broadest appeal possible, writer/director Edward Bernds through a great many ideas into the script. Space exploration, time dilation, the dangers of nuclear proliferation, sociology, colonization, evolution, anthropology, and even the traditional good versus evil figure into the procedure at various points. In fact, there’s so much going on thematically when less would probably have made for a finer effort: I’ve read that it wasn’t a big box office success but only distinguished itself from the competition well enough to also be considered a solid B-Movie.
On return of their scouting mission of the planet Mars, the crew of the XRM are suddenly catapulted by accident at previously unheard-of speed back toward Earth. Arriving home several centuries later due to the effects of time dilation, they find that our species had explored itself through nuclear war. Eventually, these former astronauts uncover that pockets of survivors remain in struggle with one another – a primitive group along with some peaceniks living underground – and the ongoing battle has kept the world-at-large from recovering. Naturally, these four alpha males come up with a plan to return civilized man to the top of the food chain, even if that means going at it all on their own.
Filmed in Cinemascope (an anamorphic widescreen format invented in 1953), World benefits greatly in this collection by seriously looking and sounding really, really, really terrific. While the exterior shoots were relatively predictable, the interiors of the space capsule and the subterranean compound housing the surviving scientists are a delight to the aesthetics of what early Science Fiction films and shows (like the inevitable Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea, Lost In Space, and Star Trek) would grow into. Arguably, a case could be made that World’s early influence was probably greater than has been studied (as I’ve watched much from the 60’s that looks markedly similar); and maybe someday a scholar will brush off some old texts and give this nifty little film the comparison its owed.
For a full review of the film, please click here.
Recommended.
In all honesty, the 50’s Sci-Fi Collection (2025) should be celebrated by the genre’s most ardent fans as these films fairly aptly demonstrate the challenges presented to studios at the dawn of the Golden Age. From resurrecting subterranean creatures of another time to the clear and present danger the emerging Atomic Age presented to mankind, these flicks let it all hang out, never thinking twice about what some internet knucklehead decades later might make of them but instead dishing out fantastical visions of some extraordinary circumstances. Flaws be damned, these original stories still resonate because each and every one of them here have been tried again and again and again. That fact alone suggests that these pioneers rightfully earned a place in film history even if what they produced might also be worth a chuckle by comparison to what reaches screens big and small today.
Suck it, haters, and travel back to where these things were done first.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray set of 50’s Sci-Fi Collection by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
In all honesty, the 50’s Sci-Fi Collection (2025) should be celebrated by the genre’s most ardent fans as these films fairly aptly demonstrate the challenges presented to studios at the dawn of the Golden Age. From resurrecting subterranean creatures of another time to the clear and present danger the emerging Atomic Age presented to mankind, these flicks let it all hang out, never thinking twice about what some internet knucklehead decades later might make of them but instead dishing out fantastical visions of some extraordinary circumstances. Flaws be damned, these original stories still resonate because each and every one of them here have been tried again and again and again. That fact alone suggests that these pioneers rightfully earned a place in film history even if what they produced might also be worth a chuckle by comparison to what reaches screens big and small today.
Suck it, haters, and travel back to where these things were done first.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray set of 50’s Sci-Fi Collection by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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