Abstracts





GODS OF THE SILVER SCREEN:
READING GREEK DIVINITIES THROUGH RAY HARRYHAUSEN

Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones

(University of Edinburgh)


This paper examines two films in which Harryhausen’s signature animation has left a definitive mark: Jason and the Argonauts (1963) and The Clash of the Titans (1981). The paper explores the way in which the Olympian gods are depicted in the two movies and it attempts to set them alongside parallels from (predominantly) the Homeric epics. Moreover, the paper considers the way in which the gods are created as filmic entities and are abetted by cinematic tricks – including Harryhausen’s animation; aspects of film design – set and costume- will be examined alongside the issue of the casting of actors in specific divine roles and the subsequent resonances with the viewing public. Film narratives will be explored and set alongside Homeric accounts to show that Harryhausen and his directors were  not only au fait with ancient conceptions of divinities, but confident enough in their use of Greek source materials to adapt them for their own ends. The paper is supported by film clips and movie stills and draws extensively on Harryhausen’s own notes and reflections and film designs. The paper falls into the following sections:

  • Harryhausen’s Divine Apparatus in Homeric Style
  • Designing Olympus
  • Anthropomorphism, Transformation, and Metamorphosis
  • Epiphanies
  • Time and Space
  • Conflict, Intervention, and Immortality


‘ALWAYS CREATURES, NEVER MONSTERS’: HARRYHAUSEN VERSUS THE TITANS

Dunstan Lowe, University of Kent


Although Ray Harryhausen’s fantasy creatures are frequently ‘titanic’ in scale, the 1981 movie Clash of the Titans did not actually pit the Olympian gods against their primeval opponents. (Its original title was Perseus and the Gorgon.) Nonetheless, as if taking the title literally, recent treatments of Greek mythology for mass audiences almost uniformly portray war on the universal scale. Recent examples include the God of War games, the Percy Jackson novels, even the 2010 Clash remake and two films following in its wake: The Immortals (2011) and the Clash sequel Wrath of the Titans (forthcoming 2012). Animators today still push the limits of their technology to create ever bigger and more spectacular enemies, as in the days of Dynamation, but now the nature of the Greek mythological creature has fundamentally changed. The Titans of the twenty-first century generally lack the characteristic humanity of Harryhausen’s creations (the Cyclops, Calibos, the Kraken), especially in their deaths, and violence has developed its own choreography. This reflects a modern transformation not in animation technology, but in the nature of the Greek hero. The romantic upholder of peace has become the pragmatic usurper of power who defeats gods and monsters alike.



THE LOOK OF HARRYHAUSEN’S CYCLOPS:
HUMAN V. MONSTER IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

Eleanor OKell

(University of Leeds)


The 7th Voyage of Sinbad closely follows Homer and Virgil. Nevertheless, although Harryhausen’s rock-throwing, man-eating Cyclops is as tall as a mountain with hair like pine trees, it has furry goat-like hind-quarters and cloven hooves – due to its origin as a Pan-influenced satyr (The Satyr, 1946).

The paper then demonstrates that Harryhausen’s Cyclops’ colouration, skin texture, horn, dentition, lower limbs, stance, movement and snarl have influenced Cyclopes ranging from the monsters of the TV series Lost in Space (1965-68) and Disney’s Hercules (1997 and 1998 TV series) to the “misunderstood-as-scary” Mike Wazowski of Pixar’s Monsters Inc. (2001) and the terrifying monster/hero of Declan O’Brien’s Cyclops (2008).

All these animated Cyclopes are actually, or have the potential to be, terrifying but their monstrosity is tempered by manipulation of their setting, appearance, vocalisations and behaviour: as recognised by classical authors (especially Theocritus and Ovid) and Harryhausen, whose Cyclops’ (arguably heroic) death fighting the dragon enables Sinbad to escape. Harryhausen’s handling – possibly resulting from familiarity with the sources – underpins animators’ increasing humanisation of Cyclopes, resulting in audiences capable of relating to monstrous Cyclopes as heroes.



LANDMARK OR PORT OF CALL?
HARRYHAUSEN’S JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS IN THE TRADITION OF THE ARGONAUTIC MYTH

Helen Lovatt

(University of Nottingham)


This paper will take a broad perspective on the influence and impact of Harryhausen’s Jason and the Argonauts on the ongoing development of the Argonautic tradition. It will look at various visual motifs, especially the representation of the earth-born men as skeletons, the Harpies in a ruined temple, and Talos as a gigantic Colossus figure.  Before Harryhausen, the story of the Argonauts was a serious matter, producing high art or work with aspirations to be seen as high (such as Maffeo Vegio’s Golden Fleece, William Morris’ The Life and Death of Jason or Waterhouse’s Hylas and the Nymphs). Since Harryhausen’s 1963 film there has been a surge of versions aimed mostly or entirely at children, with illustrations often clearly showing his influence. Authors may say they are basing their work on Apollonius (in fact, very few do), but is Harryhausen really the inspiration? Or is GravesGreek Myths and Golden Fleece/Hercules, My Shipmate more influential? The big question is whether reception of ancient mythology is often more the reception of earlier receptions rather than a new engagement with the ‘originals’. And what difference does it make when there is no canonical ‘original’?


GREEK ELEMENTS IN THE SINBAD MOVIES OF RAY HARRYHAUSEN:
A LESSON IN RECEPTION

Anthony Keen

(Open University)


Though drawing in the first instance upon mediaeval Arabic literature, the three Sinbad movies of Ray Harryhausen all heavily feature elements from Greek mythology.  Simply in terms of monsters, there are Cyclopes in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, a centaur in The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, and a Minotaur in Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger.  There is also a complex network of connections between these movies and the two movies based directly on Greek myth, Jason and the Argonauts and Clash of the Titans.  The animated skeleton from 7th Voyage reappears multiply in Jason, and the cobra-woman of the same movie is re-envisioned as Medusa in Clash.  In the other direction, the animated ship’s figurehead of Jason recurs, in more dangerous form, in Golden Voyage, whilst Patrick Troughton reprises in Eye of the Tiger his role from Jason as the elderly Greek who holds the key to the fulfilment of the quest.

I argue that this inter-weaving of Greek mythology through all these movies demonstrates a point about them, and about the ancient/mediaeval epic in general, that is often forgotten by Classical Reception scholars, and sometimes by those working in film studies.  That point is that, whilst Classicists privilege the Greek movies, and set them apart from mediaeval or non-Classical movies such as the Sinbad movies, to many movie-makers and the general movie-going audience, this is a distinction which is all but invisible.  Harryhausen himself recognises some distinctiveness about the Greek movies, but not as strongly as some Classicists see it.  The lesson is that Classical reception scholars working in cinema must pay greater attention to the wider context, otherwise our understanding of the movies we study will be flawed.



THE RUINS OF HARRYHAUSEN

Brock DeShane


Widely celebrated for their stop-motion creatures and groundbreaking visual techniques, Ray Harryhausen’s films have for decades been dissected in monster movie fanzines and special effects journals. Every cyclopean giant, sword-swinging skeleton and prehistoric beast that thundered from Harryhausen’s imagination has been lovingly freeze-framed, analyzed, and molded into plastic action figures.

Seldom explored, however, are the classical milieus through which those demons moved. Traversing the far-ranging realms of ancient history and mythologies, Harryhausen set his creature features within the mise-en-scènes of archaic Persian cities, broken Hindu temples, Egyptian pyramids, and Greco-Roman ruins. Inspired by the Romantic landscapes of artists like John Martin, Gustave Doré, and Joseph Michael Gandy, as well as books like Rose Macaulay’s Pleasure of Ruins, Harryhausen’s ancient worlds owe as much to 19th century painting and archeological studies as to cinema.

“The Ruins of Harryhausen” explores those profound influences on the filmmaker, beginning with the many classically themed inspirations he found in early life.  These include the Doré -esque settings in KING KONG (1933), sculpting replicas of California missions as a child, and his journey to the Mayan ruins after serving in World War II. The castled landscapes from Harryhausen’s fairy tale shorts (1946-53) provide further examples of his nascent interest in the classical image.

My paper details Harryhausen’s use of actual and fabricated ruins in his iconic feature films, including MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (1961), JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS (1963), CLASH OF THE TITANS (1981) and the Sinbad trilogy. Further, it examines his incorporation of architectural apocalypse into 20th century scenarios like EARTH VS. THE FLYING SAUCERS (1956) and 20 MILLION MILES TO EARTH (1957).

Finally, my presentation evinces the influence of Harryhausen’s ruined fantasy worlds upon contemporary filmmakers, video game designers, digital painters, and other artists.



ZEUS AS ANIMATOR IN HARRYHAUSEN’S CLASH OF THE TITANS (1981)

Stephen Trzaskoma

(University of New Hampshire, USA)


In Jason and the Argonauts (1963) the gods play a game in which mortal characters are literally pieces moved about on a grand board. As with any game, there are rules governing what moves players may or may not make, and the dialogue emphasizes these ludic aspects with explicit references to winning, losing, and cheating.

By contrast, in Clash of the Titans (1981) the manipulation of mortals by the Olympians has undergone a significant transformation. There are, to be sure, several points of continuing contact between the two films in their use of the device of models and figurines: the mortals are still “pieces” and gods still move them, but there is no longer a single head-to-head game being played, and the board has now become an arena. Rather, I would argue, Zeus in the later film is not merely a player but a creator, attempting to tell a particular story in a particular way. In the end he wins, so to speak, and furthermore ensures that the story and its proper ending will continue to be told by virtue of his command that constellations be created “to perpetuate the story of [Perseus’] courage.”

Zeus’ accomplishment is that of an individual creator working against various constraints, the expectations of the other gods and the opposition of Hera chief among them. In other words, although Harryhausen has referred to himself as having a “Zeus complex,” it is actually Zeus in Clash of the Titans who has a “Harryhausen complex.” The god’s chosen medium, miniature models, is freed from the literal gaming interpretation forced upon it in Jason and the Argonauts, and in my reading it is a metaphor for the struggles of the filmmaker and storyteller attempting to tell the story in just the right way with the same medium.



“THE DRAGON-GREEN, THE LUMINOUS, THE DARK, THE SERPENT-HAUNTED SEA”:
MONSTERS, LANDSCAPE AND GENDER IN CLASH OF THE TITANS (1981 AND 2010)

Liz Gloyn

(University of Birmingham)


Both the original Harryhausen Clash of the Titans and the 2010 remake create strong connections between monsters and the landscapes in which they appear. The sea and the feminine are intricately connected through the goddess Thetis in the 1981 Clash, and thus linked to the monstrous, whereas the underworld and Hades appropriate that link in the 2010 Clash. The 2010 Clash also shifts the creative force of the monstrous from the sea to the underworld, thus placing evil at a safe distance from the ‘real world’.

In the 1981 Clash, the feminine, through Thetis, sea and water, provides the uniting theme for the film’s monsters. The Kraken plot is driven by Thetis’ desire for revenge on behalf of her son Kalibos, turned into a monster for his wickedness. The film foregrounds the ocean’s threat by opening with Danae being thrown into the sea. Poseidon functions as the Kraken’s keeper rather than as an active character, diminishing masculinity’s role in creating monsters. Monsters always appear geographically close to water. Calibos lives in a swamp and encounters Perseus next to a lake; Medusa’s island temple, complete with impluvium, echoes with dripping water. Danger becomes associated with an everyday yet dramatic landscape.

In the 2010 Clash, the monstrous becomes associated with the masculine underworld, removing the ambiguity of motivation that Thetis’ love for her son provided in the 1981 Clash. Hades himself creates flying monsters, and ‘gave birth’ to the Kraken; Medusa’s fiery lair is firmly located in the land of the dead. The loss of the link between the monstrous and feminine both shifts the proper place of evil to the underworld and contributes to the film’s marginalization of women. Moving danger to mythical spaces is more comforting for a blockbuster audience, but means sacrificing narrative complexity of the original film.



PERSEUS ON THE PSYCHIATRIST'S COUCH IN LETERRIER’S CLASH OF THE TITANS (2010): HARRYHAUSEN RELOADED FOR 21ST CENTURY

Steven J. Green, University of Leeds



The debt that Leterrier owes to Harryhausen in his ‘remake’ of Clash of the Titans is undeniable: a sea monster called the Kraken, fights with scorpions, Zeus’ use of terracotta statuettes and a mechanical owl are among the most obvious elements that bring us straight back to the original. But this mutual dialogue only serves to heighten the central difference between the two films: rather than focusing on Perseus’ mythical exploits (as Harryhausen does), Leterrier’s more earthly version demonstrates an intense interest in Perseus’ status as a demi-god, the two pathways of life that subsequently open up to him (divine or mortal), his negotiation of these paths and, ultimately, the triumph of his humanity. As such, the myth of Perseus is reshaped in order to tap into a whole range of popular contemporary (western) psychological discourses centred around coming to terms with one’s own identity, not denying any part of one’s complex make-up, and making the most of the choices afforded by one’s innate abilities to enable one to integrate with and enhance ‘normal’ society.