If you’re a fan of fantasy film, you owe a lot to Ray Harryhausen. Without his pioneering work in stop-motion animation, there’s no Star Wars, no Jurassic Park, and certainly not 46 hours of hobbits capering about. Harryhausen got his start making short films about dinosaurs in his family’s garage, inspired by the special effects landmark King Kong (1933). His first feature film work was under Kong’s creator Willis O’Brien in Mighty Joe Young (1949), a spiritual sequel to the 1933 film.
Harryhausen soon began to specialize in monsters, and his mastery of stop-motion animation allowed him unrivaled creative freedom. Today, stop-motion is most closely associated with Tim Burton and saccharine holiday specials, but in Harryhausen’s day it was the most powerful tool available to the sci-fi/fantasy filmmaker. Ray’s brand of special effects, dubbed “Dynamation,” combined stop-motion models with rear projection and matte work. Using his techniques, Ray could create scenes of wonder as diverse as a titanic octopus dragging the Golden Gate Bridge to the bottom of the sea, a bright orange cyclopean satyr battling a dragon on an exotic shore, or a small army of cowboys subduing a theropod dinosaur with their lassos. From the 1950s to the birth of animatronics, no one on the planet could bring fantastic creatures to life they way that Ray did.
Almost every one of Harryhausen’s creatures have been influential on some level, but it’s hard to argue against the living skeleton as his signature creation. Animated skeletons had been popular onscreen bogeys since the dawn of visual effects, but Harryhausen’s were more than just dry bones. They were armed and dangerous, often wielding swords and spears with frightening dexterity. They also shared a unique physical characteristic: pronounced brow ridges that gave their eyeless faces a sinister sneer.
They are his only creations to appear in multiple films, and they also represent the pinnacle of his art. Ray’s skeletons were, like all of his creations, small wooden or metal armatures articulated with ball-and-socket joints. Each of their dozens of joints were painstakingly adjusted and photographed, with 23 shots constituting a single second of footage. Played at full speed, these still photos come to life in the form of a frenzied skeletal warrior, hacking and slashing at the hero with evident glee.
The skeleton makes its first appearance in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958). Harryhausen’s original concept sketches show that the idea of an armed skeleton was always planned as a major set piece of the film. Despite stunning scenes involving two-headed rocs, belly-dancing snake women and a memorably sinister dragon, the skeleton sequence takes the cake. Brought to life by the sorcerer Sokurah (Torin Thatcher), the revenant takes up a scimitar and duels with Sinbad (Kerwin Matthews).
Sinbad and the skeleton cross swords for the better part of three minutes in an epic, Flynn/Rathbone duel that ranges through an underground cavern and up a staircase. What makes this truly astounding isn’t just the smoothness of the animation or the berserker fury with which the skeleton fights (though it is a thing to behold). Rather, it’s that a six-inch puppet is interacting seamlessly with a six-foot man. As amazing as the skeleton duel in Sinbad is, it’s only a preview for a much grander sequence. In Jason and the Argonauts (1963), the title character and his crew are confronted by no fewer than seven skeletons.
Each of the revenants move and react independently, yet simultaneously, wielding different weapons and striking at different targets. That’s four limbs and a neck times seven skeletons, plus any necessary adjustments of minor joints like the elbow, wrist, or jaw. To create this struggle between life and death, Harryhausen would have had to make between dozens and hundreds of adjustments for each frame of film; the entire process took four and a half months. I don’t like to throw around the word, “masterpiece,” but that’s exactly what this sequence is.
Ray’s work influenced an entire generation of special effects technicians and filmmakers, including Dennis Muren, Jim Danforth, Stan Winston, Sam Raimi, Tim Burton, and Peter Jackson, as well as untold others across the globe. It would be foolish to attempt to list all of the works where Harryhausen’s living skeletons are homaged, parodied, or otherwise referenced. Since I’m only partially foolish, I’ve assembled an extensive, and entirely incomplete list.
Film
Harryhausen’s work heavily influenced his fellow filmmakers, and homages to his skeletons are plentiful. The titular fiends in Army of Darkness (1992) are clearly Harryhausen-inspired, right down to their sinister sneers and combative glee. Spy Kids 2: Island of Lost Dreams (2002) features a loving Harryhausen parody in which a battalion of skeletons is punched to death by the plucky secret agents of the title. The undead corsairs in Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl (2003) have a bit more meat on their bones than Ray’s originals, but their fighting style definitely owes him a debt. Peter Jackson, the world’s leading Harryhausen fanboy, clearly used elements of the skeletons in the cinematic version of the Dead Men of Dunharrow in The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003). James Cameron has even gone on record saying that the skeletal T-800 of The Terminator (1984) was mean to evoke Harryhausen’s sneering dead.
Television
The wights from everybody’s favorite show Game of Thrones are an excellent example of Harryhausen’s far-reaching influence, especially the ones that appear in the season 4 finale, The Children. As seen above, the Power Rangers once had to contend with a sword-wielding skeleton, with wicked brow ridges right out of Sinbad. There’s also an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in which Giles briefly has to fence with the ninetiest CGI skeleton of all time; it’s basically the spooky version of the Ally McBeal baby.
Gaming
If you’re a fan of The Legend of Zelda series, you’ll note the clear influence of Harryhausen’s skeletons on Stalfos, the bone warriors that have been trying to kill Link since 1985. Skeletal soldiers have also menaced the vampire-hunting Belmont clan of Castlevania fame, and served as enemies and summons in RPG titles like the Diablo series. God of War II featured an attack by a group of skeletons in a particularly clear nod to Jason. Of course, skeletons have been a part of gaming since before video was; they were featured as enemy monsters in the very first edition of Dungeons and Dragons in 1974.
Ray Harryhausen died in 2013, but his creations and their influence live on. Aside from the innumerable homages and tributes, his work lives on directly through the Ray and Diana Harryhausen Foundation, a charitable trust dedicated to preserving and promoting the animation arts. Their ultimate goal is to restore Ray’s original models and secure a permanent gallery home for them. Here’s hoping they can make it happen; if the Haus of Harryhausen becomes a thing, I’m first in line to lead a field trip.
