Japanese roboticist Masahiro Mori coined the term in the ‘70s. The Uncanny Valley can be explained by the notion that, if an entity is sufficiently non-humanlike, then the humanlike characteristics will tend to stand out and be noticed easily, generating empathy. On the other hand, if the entity is "almost human," then the non-human characteristics will be the ones that stand out, leading to a feeling of "strangeness" in the human viewer. In other words, a robot stuck inside the uncanny valley is no longer being judged by the standards of a robot doing a good job at pretending to be human, but is instead being judged by the standards of a human doing a terrible job at acting like a normal person.

And if this were a term paper, I would automatically get an F, because I just straight out stole that shit from Wikipedia. But, I want to introduce my own idea, the polar opposite of the Uncanny Valley, which I have decided to term The Harryhausen Effect, wherein, the overall fakeness of something – in this case being special effects wizard Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion animation – becomes, at some point so obviously fake that it is, in its own way, organic. The movements of the creatures in the films presented in The Ray Harryhausen Collection are so primitive, so alien, so tangible that it becomes in a sense, absolutely real. It’s this very idea that makes Harryhausen’s work still relevant today, and why even today filmmakers such as Henry Selick, Tim Burton and even Wes Anderson (though I would like to forget The Life Aquatic as much as you would) are still willing to trot out puppets to splash across the screen. At least, I hope that’s the reason, because it sure isn’t the human element of these films.

The Ray Harryhausen Collection collects three films from the man’s output, and, for better or for worse, for the first time in COLOR, all which seem to be based on the same Madlibs template.

In 20 Million Miles To Earth, an American spaceship crash-lands near a little Italian village where everyone insists on speaking in comical accents (because accents are comical). The only things that manage to survive are William Hopper and a gelatinous mass containing a baby Venusian creature, a Ymir. The Ymir, who has no heart or lungs and grows at a rate that can only be described as “crazy,” is a peaceful creature unless provoked. And, as you can expect, Mankind just can’t handle the thought of space life outside of novelty value, and decides to lock the Ymir in the local zoo, where William Hopper is falling in love with the sweet, sciencey, on-the-edge-of-Feminism Joan Taylor. All hell breaks loose when the Ymir kills an elephant and scales a roman coliseum. A lesson is learned: stop tampering in God’s domain.

Now, in IT Came From Beneath The Sea, we find out that all that nuclear energy isn’t such a good thing, and that constant exposure to radiation has left us with one giant, angry, hungry octopus in the Bay Area which doesn’t know that the golden gate bridge is something we drive on, and not a food. Kenneth Tobey plays the square-jawed protagonist who frequently butts head with the sweet, sciencey, on-the-edge-of-Feminism Faith Domergue.

Finishing up, we have Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers, which is exactly what you want out of a movie with such a title: UFOs shooting everything in sight. What I find interesting about Harryhausen’s effects in the film is obviously the flying saucers: most of Harryhausen’s work, while primitive, has a slow, graceful elegance and these saucers are all about speed, giving a much different tone to the film. And there’s a science woman involved, too!

If I were to rank these in any sort of order, 20 Million Miles To Earth would definitely be in the number one spot – while It Came From Beneath The Sea has its charms, it’s definitely a few brilliant set pieces sandwiched in-between scene upon scene of ‘50s science fiction exposition, which just might be worse than anything ever made in the universe from an objective standpoint. I actually can’t get enough of clenched, square jaws expounding over radioactive threats, but it wears thin after three movie, even to me. Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers comes close to equaling 20 Million Miles To Earth, but the alien element doesn’t hold a candle to the Ymir’s sympathetic, King Kong-like presence.

If you want emotion, you want 20 Million Miles To Earth. If you want things blowing up left and right, Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers is your man. And if you want to see a giant octopus attacked with flamethrowers, come over to my place on any given Saturday night.

…just kidding, that would be It Came From Beneath The Sea.

Presentation
A special note must be made in regards to the packaging of the box set itself: while I was expecting a simple box containing DVDs, I received the Limited Edition Collectable DVD Set, which contains not only the films, but also an awesome YMIR figurine. The set is limited to 10,000 copies, and comes with a little certificate of authenticity signed by Ray Harryhausen himself. I actually shrieked like a little girl when I opened the box.

Flashy dolls aside, each film is presented in glorious black and white (more on the colorized versions later) in crisp, lovely anamorphic widescreen, free of grain and print damage. Contrast seems especially good, and, even with two different versions of the film on each disc, not to mention full 5.1 surround mixes, original mono tracks and dub options, the overall look of the films are A-O.K..

The only film that seems to suffer frequent print damage is Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers, but that’s mainly due to the fact that a lot of the footage was sourced from stock footage more than anything else. It’s hard to criticize the material. What are you going to say? “Look at you, making due to the best of your abilities?”

Extras
While touted as being equal to the original black and white films, I feel that I should include the colorized versions in the extras section of the review because, quite frankly, the colorization process is simply a novelty – nothing more, nothing less. It’s a very interesting take on the films, however if you know someone who sets the default to color because they don’t like black and white cinema, do me a favor and download this review to your computer, burn it to a CDR, strap the CDR to your fist and punch him in the fucking face.

Personal opinion aside, these color presentations are for the most part rather impressive – that is as long as a human being doesn’t appear onscreen. Unfortunately, flesh tones are wildly inaccurate, to the point where the color of skin matches the dull shapelessness of Khaki pant exactly. I do appreciate Harryhausen’s own “hey, this isn’t Citizen Kane” admission, but I’ll be sticking to the originals. But if the screen is human-free, you might not even realize the color was inserted fifty years after the fact.                

Now onto the actual extras: each film gets the full two-disc treatment, however there is some repetition to be had: each disc recycles a few features, such as the Tim Burton Interviews Ray Harryhausen featurette (Burton shows a charming excitability that you never see in the bonus materials on his own DVDs), The Colorization Process that pimps Legend Film’s pet projects, an Interview with Joan Taylor, David Schecter on Film Music’s Unsung Hero, A Present Day Look at Stop Motion Animation, and an excellent piece on the films’ Original Ad Artwork.

When not repeating features, each film has a nice consistency: All feature discs include audio commentaries featuring Ray Harryhausen himself, along with a revolving door of visual effects artists, who consistently prod Harryhausen for information regarding each monstrous creation, and each bonus disc centers around a main documentary under the title Remembering, which are

Remembering 20 Million Miles To Earth
Remembering It Came From Beneath The Sea
Remembering Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers

All three are packed with clips, interviews, art excerpts, original drawings, and is generally packed with nerd love from all sorts of admirers, including Terry Gilliam, The Chiodo Brothers, Stan Winston, Rick Baker and lots more.

Each bonus disc also features a Comic Book Preview – each film getting its own graphic novel sequel, and Video Photo Galleries as well, while Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers has a few more tricks up its sleeve: The Hollywood Blacklist and Bernard Gordon and Original Screenplay Credits are exclusive to the disc.

And finally, as you’ll usually find on Sony DVDs, the set does not feature any theatrical trailers for the featured films themselves – especially disappointing because you just know the trailers for these films must have been excellent, with lovingly rendered shots of the monster, with words like “YOU WILL BE SHOCKED AND AMAZED!,” or “COWER IN FEAR AS YOUR WORST NIGHTMARES COME ALIVE IN…” flashing across the screen in particularly aggressive fonts. But as a trade-off of sorts, each DVD comes equipped with original poster art embedded into the cases.

The Bottom Line
When taken in whole, from the actual films to the crazy figurine included in the limited edition set, to the certificate of authenticity, this is hands down my favorite DVD release of the year. The only aspect of the set that falters is the repetitive bonus features, but one should remember these were released separately.