War of the Worlds by Ray Harryhausen (classic unmade movie: documentary).

In the labyrinth of Hollywood’s “what ifs,” the tale of Ray Harryhausen’s The War of the Worlds gleams like a cinematic gem that was never cut. Imagine, if you will, a Victorian London besieged not by fog but by towering octopi-like Martians, their tentacles entwined around the spires of the city, a scene that could have leaped from the pages of H.G. Wells’ classic novel straight into the silver screen under the masterful hand of special effects titan, Ray Harryhausen.

In the early 1950s, Harryhausen, with his heart set on bringing these Martian invaders to life, crafted a model so detailed and true to Wells’ description that it seemed ready to slither off its pedestal and into our nightmares. He presented this vision to Hollywood, only to find the doors of funding firmly closed. Instead, the project was handed off to George Pál, leaving Harryhausen to nurse his disappointment in solitude.

But let’s not dwell on what could have been; instead, let’s celebrate the magic that Harryhausen did bring to the world. Before CGI became the go-to for movie magic, Harryhausen was the wizard of the silver screen, conjuring beasts and monsters that danced at his fingertips through the painstaking art of stop-motion animation. His creations, from the colossal Kraken to the skeletal warriors of Jason and the Argonauts, were not just special effects; they were characters with souls, etched into celluloid history.

Harryhausen’s innovative “Dynamation” technique allowed fantastical creatures to coexist seamlessly with live-action footage, a process that began with The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms and evolved into a hallmark of his films. This technique not only showcased Harryhausen’s creative genius but also his knack for storytelling, blending the fantastical with the real in ways that audiences had never seen before.

Despite the setback with The War of the Worlds, Harryhausen’s career was anything but a series of missed opportunities. He went on to create First Men in the Moon, another Wells adaptation, proving that even without Martian invaders, his imagination knew no bounds. His influence stretches far and wide, inspiring generations of filmmakers and special effects artists who cite Harryhausen as their muse.

In a parallel universe, perhaps we’d have seen Victorian London aflame, with Harryhausen’s Martians rampaging through its streets. Yet, even without this cinematic vision, Harryhausen’s legacy is unparalleled. His work reminds us that before the digital age, there was a kind of magic that required nothing more than imagination, patience, and a single frame at a time.

So, as we flip through the pages of SFcrowsnest, let’s raise a glass to Ray Harryhausen, the man who showed us that with a bit of creativity and a lot of persistence, worlds of wonder can come to life, even if some remain only in our dreams.