The First Men in the Moon

 The world is watching with rapt attention. Mankind stands on the verge of its greatest achievement: breaking the shackles of our planet and setting foot on the moon. Something that even twenty years earlier would've seemed like an impossible fantasy is now mere moments away. These three astronauts are all too aware of what a historic event it is when their boots first collide with the lunar dust beneath them. Imagine their surprise when they stumble onto a faded Union Jack and a letter claiming the moon for Queen Victoria in the year of our Lord 1899.

Arnold Bedford (Edward Judd) is not what anyone would rightly call an astronaut. He's not what anyone would rightly call much of anything, other than a layabout, a scoundrel, or however else Victorian society would scowlingly express their disapproval. Deeply in debt and trying to weasel his way out of marriage to his American fiancée (Martha Hyer), Bedford thinks he's finally stumbled onto wealth and fame. His neighbor, Professor Cavor (Lionel Jeffries), is conducting experiments so dangerous that they could ravage Bedford's nearby cottage. Bedford eagerly agrees to sell the place to Cavor -- nevermind the fact that he doesn't actually own it -- for a stake in Cavor's gravity-defying Cavorite. This paste cuts through gravity like a hot knife through butter, and Bedford has hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of commercial applications dancing around in his head. Maybe Cavorite boots to leap tall buildings in a single bound? Cavor has his sights set quite a bit higher than that, though: all the way to the moon! At immense cost, he's even built a metal sphere to get him there. All he needs is to perfect the Cavorite process, and he'll soon be soaring through the heavens. It's initially intended to be a solo journey, but much to Cavor's chagrin...well, let's just say that the sphere can not-too-uncomfortably accommodate three.

Cavor, Bedford, and Not-Mrs.-Bedford are, as the framing device and title suggest, the first men (and woman!) to touch down on the moon. That's not to say they're the only ones there, though. An entire civilization of insectoid Selenites exists in labyrinthine tunnels beneath the lunar surface. Where Cavor sees a barrier in communication, Bedford sees imminent danger, and his kneejerk reaction doesn't get intercelestial relations off to the best of starts. Kate is imprisoned in a Selenite laboratory. The sphere is being dismantled by a small army of creatures, much like a parade of ants disassembling a leftover picnic sandwich into crumbs. Cavor stands before the Grand Lunar in what may be a historic conversation between beings from different celestial bodies or what may be a trial. Only one thing stands in the way of whatever it is the Selenites are planning, and his name is Arnold Bedford.

So much about First Men in the Moon wholly fascinates me, and Bedford is chief among them. In this wildly unconventional story, he serves as both protagonist and antagonist...as both the action hero and principal villain. It's a delicate balancing act to shape a character who's this manipulative, this scheming, and yet this charming. In Bedford's eyes, he's not doing anyone any harm. Okay, he duped his fiancée into signing her name to a deed that, unbeknownst to her, he has no right to sell. He's taking a percentage of his neighbor's invention despite not contributing a blesséd thing towards it. In his heart of hearts, he's going to pay everyone back (plus interest!) when his ship comes in. In the meantime...well, whatever. When a gaggle of anthropomorphic insects creep towards him on the moon with long, sharp staves, of course he tosses them into the bubbling, blue magma below. It's not out of cruelty but of self-preservation. These bugs are larger, to be sure, but to his mind, they're no less worthy of being stomped into a smear under his heel. Bedford could never fathom that he's in a movie without an archvillain. There is no sinister Selenite plot to murder them or lay claim to our planet. These creatures don't hold anyone hostage or dangle the Earthlings in a pit with some colossal lunar monstrosity. The only casualties -- the only beings forcefully placed in harm's way -- are at Bedford's hand. As far as he's concerned and as far as the audience knows for quite a long while, Bedford is the hero of the piece, and that dichotomy is brilliant.

 
The unconventional nature to First Men in the Moon certainly doesn't stop there. The name

Ray Harryhausen is invariably associated with high adventures that pit a gallant hero against one fantastic stop-motion animated creature after another. There's only one giant beast in this film, though, and its relatively brief attack is over well before anything resembling a climax. The central focus of First Men in the Moon isn't on an adrenaline rush of action or nightmarish monsters; it's about discovery...about exploration...about embracing the unknown. Harryhausen's emphasis is accordingly placed on world-building, and his imagination coupled with such skilled production design make for quite a visual feast. The effects work is first-rate, naturally. Clearly a great deal of care and consideration went into making the moon launch look credible, and much of this continues to hold up remarkably well, despite being dreamt up five years before Apollo 11 touched down on the lunar surface and more than fifty years having passed since its theatrical release. First Men in the Moon strikes a marvelous balance between its sharp insight, its sense of awe and wonder, and, well, in fun. More than a third of the movie, in fact, is spent on Earth at the tail end of the 19th century. Despite that early emphasis on slapstick, Lionel Jeffries' bug-eyed performance, and building its characters in the place of action/adventure beats, the pacing of First Men in the Moon never drags.

I can certainly imagine the lengthy earthbound sequences, the rubbery, less-than-convincing Selenite masks, and the scarcity of his trademark stop-motion animated creatures disappointing some Harryhausen fanatics. Let go of your expectations. Appreciate First Men in the Moon for what it is rather than what it isn't. Celebrate what makes this film unique rather than eviscerate it for not being Jason and the Argonauts II. Despite -- or perhaps because of -- it differing greatly from much of the work in Harryhausen's legendary filmography, First Men in the Moon is still very much a favorite of mine. 

Though it's not exactly the type of adventure that leaps to mind when I think of Ray Harryhausen, its boundless imagination, visual flair, and awe-inspiring sense of discovery ensure that First Men in the Moon stands proud in his filmography just the same. Absolutely imperial, or in other words, very, very Highly Recommended.  (Adam Tyner, DVD Talk)