• Directed by Nathan Juran
• Written by Ken Kolb
• Starring
  • Kerwin Mathews
  • Kathryn Grant
  • Richard Eyer
  • Torin Thatcher

Sinbad. Ray Harryhausen.

Sinbad. Ray Harryhausen.

Any questions?

There’s something magical about stop-motion critters. Even though the process by which they’re created is always patently obvious (even with the “go-motion” of The Empire Strikes Back, it’s still easily visible), it’s still easier to swallow your disbelief (or my disbelief, anyway — I don’t know what kind of warped individual you are) in a jerky model in forced perspective than, say, the rushed CGI you’d see on Xena Warrior Princess (or for that matter, on the shortlived revival of Sinbad as a Herc/Xena ripoff series). There’s still a solidity to a stop-motion model; it’s still got physical presence, a three-dimensional presence missing from just about every CGI this side of Jurassic Park. Heck, even Jar-Jar Binks looks ephemeral next to a Harryhausen model. (Not that that makes him any less annoying…)

That being said, the downfall of Sinbad movies (and Aladdin movies, and any other movies featuring Harryhausen’s craft) in the eyes of many people is that the characters usually take a backseat to the effects creatures. There’s no use denying it; why do we refer to these movies as “Harryhausen movies,” instead of citing the many directors involved? The director only manages the actors. (Actors? There are people in Harryhausen films?) Why does it not matter if the role of Sinbad is a revolving-door job? Face it, in most cases, the plots of these movies blur in your mind as easily as do the storylines of the James Bond films. If you’ve seen one conversation involving stilted “Arabic” English, you’ve seen them all.

Which is why this movie (you knew I’d get to it eventually, right?) is such a gem. There’s actually (brace yourself) a story here — and it’s more than just filler between the stop-motion sequences!

We begin on a stormy, foggy night in the open seas, where Captain Sinbad’s ship has been quite naturally blown off course. Sinbad in this outing is played by Kerwin Mathews, and he is quite expectedly the least Arab-looking Arab you’ve ever seen. He’s in the middle of bringing his beloved Princess Parisa (Kathryn Grant) back to Bagdad to marry, cementing an alliance between Bagdad and the rival city-state of Chandra. A word here about Kathryn Grant: Sigh. She is, in the vernacular, “real purty.” I’ve always been a sucker for big dark eyes and a bright smile, and this winsome lass has both in overwhelming quantities. In fact, I think it’s largely due to her presence that I didn’t exactly count the minutes between the stop-motion scenes. Interestingly, she did a number of small roles through the 1950s, eventually starring in a handful of films at the end of the decade, and then she disappeared for a full two decades until showing up again in, of all places, The Initiation of Sarah (1978). I suppose her retirement could have something to do with the fact that she became Mrs. Bing Crosby in 1957.

Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes, the movie. Sinbad goes ashore on the island of Colossa for water and vittles, of which there are a goodly supply. Unfortunately, they also encounter the sorceror Sokurah (Torin Thatcher), being chased by a huge horned cyclops — probably one of Harryhausen’s most recognizable critters. Sokurah whips out his magic lamp and summons the genie Baronni, who looks surprisingly like a twelve-year-old boy (Richard Eyer, whose career apparently disappeared with his childhood), to create a barrier; he then tries to escape with Sinbad and his crew in their landing boat. A thrown boulder, however, capsizes them, and sends the lamp to the briny bottom, from whence the cyclops retrieves it. The dejected magician is taken aboard ship for the voyage back to Bagdad.

In the teeming metropolis of Bagdad, amidst preparations for the blessed day (we’ll skip the obligatory “stilted lovers’ talk in the moonlit garden” scene), Sokurah tries to convince the Caliph to give him a ship to return to the island for the lamp, but the Caliph ain’t no dummy. Sokurah even tries to convince him with a display of his “powers” at a pre-nuptial celebration, turning Parisa’s volunteering lady-in-waiting temporarily into a snakewoman (thanks to Harryhausen, natch) and tries to frighten them with terrifying visions of the future; alas, the latter only gets him banished.

So what’s a sorcerer to do? Shrink the princess to the size of a Star Wars action figure overnight, that’s what. (Hey, as long as stop-motion necessitates a bunch of splits screens and forced perspective, might as well run with it.) For some strange reason, absolutely no one suspects that, you know, maybe a vengeful magician was behind it; instead, Sinbad seeks Sokurah out as their last hope. “Tsk,” Sokurah says, “I’ve seen this before…” Apparently, the only cure is a potion concocted from the eggshell of a roc (which nests, naturally enough, on the peaks of the mountains of Colossa), as well as other ingredients to be had only in Sokurah’s underground castle on the same island. (Why in the hell would a wizard with a genie choose that kind of neighborhood?) And still no one suspects that Sokurah set them up.

Since everyone knows about the terrors of Colossa, Sinbad’s only able to recruit his right-hand man, Harufa, from his former crew; at the Caliph’s command, he rounds up death-row prisoners to round out the crew, with a full pardon offered all survivors. You know exactly where this leads; once on the open seas, mutineers throw Sinbad, Harufa, and Sokurah (and Parisa, hidden in a padded box in Sinbad’s belt) into the brig. Fortunately, the mutineers’ course then takes them within range of an island whose siren-like inhabitants drive the crews of passing ships mad with their songs; forewarned by Sokurah, the prisoners do the Odysseus thing by putting waxy cloth in their ears, and by morning they have command of the ship again.

Finally, we arrive at Colossa, and here’s where the stop-motion banquet is laid. The earlier cyclops and snake woman only whetted our appetites; here, we get the whole hog.

- At least two more cyclopes!

- A two-headed roc chick the size of an elephant, and its mother (warning: never roast eat the two-ton chick right beside the nest)!

- A fire-breathing dragon, bearing more than a passing resemblance to the Rhedosaurus from The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms!

- A sword-fighting skeleton (probably one of the best stagings of live-action/stop-motion combat ever)!

It’s oodles of fun, almost enough to keep you from wondering why, if this was a setup, Sokurah’s information on the cure for the shrunken princess was actually true, not just an excuse to get a ship to take him home and help him get the lamp. But hey, who cares? Enjoy the great stop-motion effects. Appreciate the beauty of Kathryn Grant. Appreciate the fact that there’s enough going on in between the monsters that the kids don’t beg you to fast-forward until it “gets good
again.”

Some Notable Totables:

• body count: 12
• breasts: 0
• explosions: 0
• ominous thunderstorms: 1
• actors who’ve appeared on Star Trek: 1
  • Torin Thatcher (Sokurah) played “Morplin” in the classic episode “The Return of the Archons”