Robinson Crusoe On Mars (1964)

Directed by Byron Haskin
Starring:
Paul Mantee as Cmdr. Chris "Kit" Draper
Victor Lundin as Friday
Adam West as Col. Dan McReady
Barney (The Woolly Monkey) as Mona

Coming at the very end of the classic cycle of atomic age science fiction films (1), Robinson Crusoe On Mars remains one of the genre's most visually pleasing movies. Filmed in glorious Techniscope by cinematographer, Winton Hoch (2); with matte background paintings by the Albert Whitlock (3), Crusoe is perhaps the prettiest sci-fi film of the era.

There is much competition, of course; with Fred Wilcox' 1956, Forbidden Planet, leaping immediately to mind. But Forbidden Planet is more beautiful than pretty with a visual authority that signifies "epic." Watching Forbidden Planet is like looking over the majesty of the Grand Canyon or the grandeur of the Himalayas in distant mist. Crusoe is more like looking over a hillside of spring flowers opening beneath rolling sunshine. Or, to think of it another way - Crusoe On Mars has the brilliant saturation of the Fauvist paintings of Derain or Matisse - breathtaking in primary color splash; whereas Forbidden Planet has the weight of the Dutch Masters - classic and formal; a beauty both unrelenting and undeniable.

Commander Christopher "Kit" Draper (Paul Mantee)

Our story begins in some unstated year in the future as astronauts Chris "Kit" Draper (Paul Mantee) and Dan McReady (a pre-Batman Adam West), crew of the Mars Gravity Probe 1, are doing a fact-gathering flight around the planet Mars in preparation for a first earth landing (on board as well is Mona, a test monkey the crew has adopted as a pet). While avoiding collision with an asteroid, the crew burn up nearly all the ship's fuel. Their vessel is now stuck in orbit around Mars, circling the planet in endless loops. Having no other options, the crew is forced to abandon ship to the surface of Mars, using separate life pods. We follow Draper as his pod all but crashes on mars, the astronaut barely surviving the hard landing. Clad in spacesuit, he begins his search for his colonel across the fiery landscape of mars, picking his way over the desolate, mountainous wasteland.

As bad luck would have it, he has landed on a particularly hellish piece of Martian real estate, all volcanoes and fire-spouting fissures. Gaseous fireballs blow across the land like tumbleweeds, and the red horizon appears across endless miles of seared planet. Generally speaking, the Red Planet is giving our boy a right ass-kicking as he trundles along. Draper is blown off his feet by a geyser of spewing fire and tumbles down the side of a long slope, landing with a grunt on the floor of the ravine. Trying to get his senses, he takes his helmet off but discovers the hard way that the Martian atmosphere is too thin to breathe for very long; and he nearly passes out as he struggles to suck from his air tank. Draper eventually does have a bit of luck: He discovers an indigenous rock that burns slowly like coal, and he finds himself a small cave which will become his base of operations throughout most of the picture. Burning his rocks, he is able to survive the first freezing nights.

Eventually, after drudging toward the spot where he suspects his friend landed, he spots the metal of the pod glinting in the sun. Draper rushes to the spot, overjoyed, only to find his friend and commander dead - tangled in the smashed craft. In a plaintive scene we see McReady's forearm and lifeless hand extended from the wreckage, chard and damaged. Draper stares at the hand, tries to touch it, but cannot steel himself to the task. He kneels to peel open a bit of the ship's torn hull to look inside, gathers the interior sight in for a moment, then he closes his eyes and lowers his head).

After burying his friend in a shallow grave beneath a mound of rocks, Draper begins to pick through the remnants of the crash, looking for precious air tanks. Mona the monkey has survived the crash, and Draper picks her up sadly and places her in his lap like a small baby in a spacesuit (4). Mona's tiny air tanks buy Draper a bit of time, just enough to make it back to the protection of his cave - but not much more. Gasping for breath back at the cave - and nearing the end - Draper gives Mona an entire tube of NASA paste food - no longer seeing the point of rationing.

"No more rationing," says Draper, holding the tube while Mona licks at the whitish goo squeezed from the tube. A lack of oxygen has slurred his voice a bit - made it soft. "You'll have a full belly. You'll be full."

Drapers eyes flutter, and he faints onto the hard dirt floor of his cave. He manages to lift himself just enough to reach his portapack recorder and make a gasping last report, in which he catalogs the death of his commander - and of himself. He signs "over and out," clicks the recorder off, and passes out.

As Draper lies on the floor, we see his breathing become gradually deeper and finally return to normal. His eyes open and he remains still for a moment. He hears a very faint hissing sound. Near him, on the floor, lay a few of the coal-like rock he uses for warmth. One of them, still burning, is somehow making small puffs of air, which rustle the sand of the floor. Instinctively, Draper moves his mouth to the underside of the rock, breathing in lungfuls of air. He sits upright, thinking, and he understands: The rocks, when burned, release oxygen - and he is saved. Looking down at the rocks, a beatific blankness falls upon him. Nearly inaudibly, he says to the rocks - or God - "Thank you."

The next several chapters of the film, covering a month or so of time, are filled rather pedantically with the nuts and bolts of lone survival in a harsh environment - a "man vs. nature" theme: Draper devises a way to stuff the rocks' produced oxygen into his empty air tanks via a compressor made from spare pod parts; Draper makes furniture out of slabs of stone; Draper finds water and food (both from a beautiful pond wherein an edible sausage-like aquatic plant grows), etc. Draper also tends to the aesthetic pleasures which keep one sane when in solitude: He devises a plaque of stone, with etched letters displaying his flight mission - his name and rank - which he hangs at the cave entrance along with the American flag. When lost or alone, men cling with increasing desperation to routine; and it is touching when Draper hangs up his stone plaque with Flintstone's lettering, brings himself to ramrod attention, and salutes his mission and flag.

This part of the movie drags a bit, though, as do many films where one actor is asked to carry such an enormous weight of screen-time. Paul Mantee is a fine actor - one deserving of a much fuller career than he was afforded - and his performance in Crusoe is full of wonderful, nuanced moments. But too much is asked of the lone performer here. Once the immediate search for air, water, and food have been answered (and even before) we patiently sit through scenes of Draper shaving, eating, saying funny asides to his pet monkey, etc. The problem is that "Man vs. Nature" themes work best in literature, not in movies. In Dafoe's book, from which the movie comes, Crusoe's struggle and descent into isolation was captivating, and who can forget the first time they read Jack London's To Build a Fire? In both cases, nature is an imagined character made both visual and visceral. In the case of Dafoe, the tropical island becomes a primal, heat-soaked adversary - dark, organic and pulsing with primitive "otherness." The "man" in London's classic short story faces the brutal, callous desolation of the frozen Klondike, trying to live in a world of blinding, white light where spit freezes and pops before it can reach the ground. Particularly with the great London, the blank, icy universe of the Yukon becomes a character equally felt and alive as the main, human subject. In film, no such expansion of the mind's eye is permitted. The viewer is forced to see a character without interpretation, and one's eyes seek the flesh and blood actor. The landscape becomes only a "setting." We wait for the actor's movement, his reaction to the scenery. Much is lost in the media's intrinsic, visual structure.

The water pool crater - giver of life

Things are not helped any by the fact that in Crusoe on Mars there is very little "nature" at any rate. Director, Byron Haskins, opted for a dead planet - completely void of life - hoping for scientific accuracy. In the original script, Ib Melchior envisioned a planet not quite so dead; a planet with indigenous life forms and plant life (5). Haskin's felt this approach put things on a "kiddie matinée" level, and he hoped to bring the project "a little dignity." (6) The director, best known for his terribly adult sci-fi films, War of the Worlds (1953) and Conquest of Space (1955), should have kept his mitts off Melchior's original concept of a lively Mars. Better the director sacrifice a bit of dignity, and the film some of its precious authenticity, than watch poor Mr. Mantee tumble down yet another desolate crater or piss and moan to a monkey in a spacesuit. According to Haskin, the original script was chocked full of Martian beasties - all terribly juvenile in his estimation. Yet, what the hell is the problem with imaginary monsters, accurate or not, in a sci-fi film? It wouldn't be scientifically accurate? Please. The film has enough impossible moments anyway to sink a battleship (blood would boil instantly on Mars, for a start). And while we are on the topic, what's wrong with kiddie matinées? George Lucas (Star Wars) certainly understands the appeal.

But don't despair. The film during this midway stretch has enough visual splendors to make Mr. Haskin's dignified vision of a burned, dead planet very watchable. Scenes of Draper, tiny and barely more than a speck of shadow on the immense floor of the Martian landscape, have their power (Techniscope was truly cool). Yet, when another sentient humanoid is introduced, the shift in gears is profound.

After about five months of Martian isolation, Draper goes a bit mad. He has taken to strolling the harsh, endless terrain with leashed monkey in tow, blowing a homemade bagpipe made from tubing and an unused water bladder. One day, marching along while blowing a tense and bitter rendering of "Dixie", he comes upon a large stone set vertically in the ground. Draper stares at it for a moment, his mind working. He walks over, shakes the stone a bit, and a look of anxiety crosses his face. He stands upright quickly, his eyes darting around as he remains stiff. At the base of the stone, he sees a small collection of sun-whitened bones. The upright stone was set in the ground. Someone or something set it there. Draper has stumbled upon a gravesite.

Poking carefully with his knife, Draper uncovers a skeletal, humanoid hand with a thick, black band around the wrist. He finds other bones, an arm - and a bashed in skull. Concluding that the grave contains a murder victim (skulls don't bash themselves in), Draper hurries back with all due haste to his cave. He immediately takes down his American flag and his mission plaque in order to conceal, as best as possible, his existence. And because there is a certified, violent presence as yet unseen on Mars, Draper is forced to engage the self-destruct sequence on his mother ship via his multi-use portapack communicator (the abandoned ship has been orbiting around the planet like a satellite, stuck forever in Mars' gravitational field - a taunting, unreachable cornucopia of air-tanks, water, and food). Draper watches sadly as the ship makes a soft, red pop near the horizon as it self-destructs.

The bagpipe and monkey strolls are over. Draper now ventures out of his cave only to fetch the essentials of water, food, and the burning air rocks. As he hunkers down into cave live, Draper begins dressing in cloaks woven from the purple fiber of the native, aquatic sausage plant for protection against the cold nights. He has set up radar equipment (part of his ever-useful portapack) at the entrance to his cave, which scans the skies for any movement. One day, his radar starts beeping frantically. Draper rushes to the mouth of the cave and looks out into the star-flecked night. Over a range of hills near the horizon, he sees a quickly moving ship darting through the air. He watches as it sinks below the ridgeline. Draper is initially overjoyed, imagining this to be a rescue ship from Earth. Exuberant, he gathers Mona and his portapack and makes a beeline for the distant ridge.

Far from a rescue ship, Draper discovers a fleet of alien spacecraft sent on a mining expedition to Mars. He arrives just as the fleet begins zipping around the ridge, blast-mining it with pulsing, red lenses glowing like eyes from the under prow of each ship. Amid the thunderous blasting and flying debris, Draper manages to get some footage with his trusty portapack (whose functionality is made both believable and remarkable). The explosions grow closer, one finally blasting rock right near Draper's shoulder. As he is packing up his gear for a quick exit, we see a man (humanoid) step into the picture from between a cleaving of rocks. The legs have sandal-wrappings up to the calf, and the new being is standing right behind Draper.

Draper turns to see the man, leaps backward in shock; and pastes himself against a rock in fear. The two look at one other, the sandaled "man" (Victor Lundin) standing over Draper and breathing hard; his look is also fearful - perhaps pleading. The moment hangs there between them for a paralyzed instant, and before either can react, an enormous blast throws sandal-man off his feet, pounding him to the ground. Instinctively, Draper begins pulling the rocks and debris off the downed man, noticing as he works the same heavy, black bracelet on the other's wrist he had seen at the alien gravesite. There is another blast. "C'mon!" shouts Draper, "If they're after you, let's get out of here!"

From this point onward, the movie finds a confident stride and begins to hum. This is due largely to the excellent report between actors Paul Mantee and Victor Lundin (Paul Mantee seems to really get his balance in the role once given another actor to bounce off of); but also because the script by writers John Higgins and Ib Melchior (at this point in the production, John Higgins probably wrote most of the dialogue) turns a corner and really loses all its baby fat.

The two eventually make it back to the safety of the cave where Draper naturally assumes dominance. Interestingly, he does not seem suspicious or wary of the other, as one might expect; considering that all Draper knows at this point is that the other was being chased with violent intent. Might this alien be a criminal? A murderer? But no, Draper's attitude from the moment the two are safe is one of good, old fashioned Noblesse oblige. Friday, in his peasant-like rags, couldn't possibly pose any serious threat to him. When his directions to "sit" and "eat" are not immediately followed, Draper simply barks commands louder with obvious irritation; pointing at the food - slapping at the table - as one would do with a stubborn pet. Naturally, if one cannot understand English a lower intelligence must be at work, so a harsh tone and greater volume must suffice to penetrate the dull mind.

Slave and Master (Victor Lundin and Paul Mantee)

This assumption of superiority is cemented once Draper plays the visual recording he has made of the alien base and realizes that his new guest is a runaway slave from the mining camp. The recording shows a work pit where many toil, all dressed like Draper's guest in quasi-Egyptian nakedness and black wrist shackles, drudging away digging and lifting ore. These work slaves are herded by alien masters in space suits, overseeing the pit with rifle-like weapons. Near the tape's end, Draper watches one of the slaves making a break for it as the alien masters fire away with their laser weapons. The slave vanishes between rocks. As the recorded sound of the weapons files the cave, the other suddenly scrambles frantically to a cave corner, cowering as he watches the portapack's screen.

"You're an escaped slave!" he says unpleasantly, his voice far from sympathetic. He watches the screen a moment longer, seeing the alien masters firing their laser rifles wildly up along the rim of the pit at the escapee - the very blasts that had nearly killed Draper earlier. Draper looks accusingly at the slave, who is clearly terrified and huffing for breath, with a contemptuous anger.

"Come here!" Draper commands, pointing at a spot on the floor at his feet. The man walks over hesitantly, unconsciously rubbing his wrists where the slave bands chafe. He stands next to Draper, his shoulders slumped and his head lowered. Draper stands and points a finger at the portapack screen, tapping the glass. The escaped slave flinches. Draper jabs a thumb at his own chest - a single, brutal gesture.

"Me," he says. "I'm the boss and don't ever forget it. If you get out of line even one iota, I'll bring your enemies right back into this cave." We watch the escaped slave's face for much of this interaction, and we see his expression go from fear, to shock, and finally to resignation and supreme disappointment. Draper is no different than the cruel masters he has escaped, his situation unchanged. A bit later, seeing Draper sucking oxygen from his tank, the ex-slave offers a small pill from a pouch strapped to his waist (these are the "air pills" by which the slaves breathe on Mars, while their masters have full spacesuits. These pills, Draper later understands, release oxygen directly into the blood, bypassing the lungs entirely). Draper looks at the other with a contempt bordering on disgust. How could anything an alien slave offers be as good as Earth science? "No thanks," he says, staring at the slave as though the offer was an insult. "I'll stick with air."

The remainder of the movie records how their relationship does change, going through the same stages as did Defoe's characters in his classic story: From master and slave, to master and beloved servant, and finally to a relationship of complete equals. And, like the source material, the movie seems to rise in stature and intensity as we follow this progression. As this relationship changes, Crusoe On Mars finds its full strength, expressing in a very few scenes a complex and difficult character development. Initially, the men are drawn to a position of grudging mutual respect simply because they have to survive many dangers together.

Before too long, the alien miners return, flying over the cave. Their proximity suddenly activates the ex-slave's wrist shackles, driving the man to his knees as the bands clack together in some kind of magnetic attraction. Draper moves to the cave entrance and watches as the ships fly off. Imagining that Draper has driven them away, the guest falls to his knees in front of him, bowing his head and lifting his hands in supplication. Instinctively Draper is uncomfortable with this. "Oh, I got rid of them, huh?" he says in self-depreciation. "I got the power, is that it?"

When the other bows his head lower, pressing himself closer against the ground, Draper says, "OK, OK, that's enough. I'm not supernatural. C'mon, Joe - or whatever your name is." Draper thinks a moment. "Friday! That's it. With apologies to Robinson Crusoe." He takes Friday by his extended forearm, pulling the man roughly upward off his knees. "C'mon, Friday, on your feet!"

Certainly, the two are not equal as yet, far from it; but the need to use names and the desire to see another rise to his feet and not wallow in false worship is an important first baby-step (Yet, as I say, far from equal. Later in this same scene, Draper discovers that Friday can speak. How wonderful! Draper vows to teach Friday English even if he has to "sit on him for a month!" It is never imagined, even for a glimmer, that Draper might learn Friday's language).

How these two beings gain friendship, even love, for one another is the film's raison d'être - and the element that turns it from a good film to one that, at the very least, has moments of greatness.

Eventually their cave is discovered by the aliens and the two must flee to the Martian polar icecap, where it is assumed the alien master ships won't hound them. They travel along the underground Martian canals to conceal themselves in their progress. By the time they reach the pole (and are rescued by an Earth scout ship in the finale) the two have become as close as soldiers in wartime, completely devoted to one another, and equal. How this skillful transition of character transpires takes us right into a discussion of the good stuff:

The Good Stuff, Part I: Brothers

There are several small progressions toward brotherhood as the two protagonist work and survive together. The first, of course, was the moment Draper bothered to give Friday a name, which immediately brings a certain dignity (the harsh commands and hand gestures are tempered considerably once Draper thinks of the other as "Friday"). A gently shifting relationship is also evident in the way Draper endeavors to remove Friday's slave bracelets, using a wire saw dipped in sand for grit - a process that takes several sittings over much time. At first, the practice seems merely a practical necessity for Draper: In tracking Friday, the aliens also track and endanger Draper. If Draper is to keep his servant, he must find a way to call off the hounds. But over time, the nightly sawings change from self-interested labor to an act of mercy, even sympathy; until finally they are done only for Friday with urgent, selfless concern.

The major shift in the relationship begins, however, on an afternoon where the two are at the work pool. Draper is sitting in a kind of home-made throne of stones, protected from the sun by a covering of framed thatch. Eating a sausage plant, his legs stretched out grandly; Draper watches Friday working at the pool, gathering bushels of dried fiber harvested from the aquatic plants. He decides it's time for an English lesson.

"Friday," says Draper with authority, "Say 'stone.' Say 'stone' Friday."

Friday ignores him and continues his work, tying up the bundles. Irritated, Draper throws the small stone overhand toward Friday and points at it. "Stone!"

Friday picks up the stone, flips it in the air and catches it. He shows it to Draper. "Awata," he says. He tosses it into the pond and resumes his work.

"No, no . . . 'Stone!'" says Draper at a little higher volume.

Not breaking the pace of his labor, Friday dismissively tilts his chin at the pond. "Awata," he says simply.

Losing his temper, Draper calls Friday names, calling him an idiot and "retarded." Draper points a finger. "We're not budging from this spot until you learn some words," he hollers. "A-Okay?"

Friday regards him for a moment with a calm scrutiny - even sympathy. "A-Okay," he says, looking at him flatly. "Stone." Friday stands and walks away to gather more fiber.

Draper sits in his throne fuming as the line between teacher and pupil, indeed the presumption of superior intelligence, shifts very suddenly. After a moment, he realizes Friday has left the pool. In a huff, he puts on his hat and gathers his gear. As he climbs round the lip of the crater, calling Friday's name in increasing tones of anger and concern; Friday suddenly leaps out from between rocks, grabs Draper from behind in a bear hug, and lifts him briefly off his feet. Draper breaks free and turns furiously, fists clenched, ready to defend his life; but Friday holds his hands up and begins laughing. It takes a moment, but Draper begins laughing, too. Friday has played a practical joke. It is a breakthrough moment that both men understand as they watch one another laughing.

Friday seems to consider things for a moment as the laughter fades, looking at Draper. Finally, he gestures for Draper to follow him. Friday quickly leads Draper along the ridge and then down into nearby mining pit, the same slave pit where Friday made his earlier escape. Within this deep basin, Friday shows Draper several cave-like huts, obviously set up for temporary slave quarters. The wind is making an airy, mournful sound - blowing over the rim of the pit like breath over the mouth of an enormous bottle. Friday goes into one of the small caves, which opens to a larger, deeper chamber. After a moment, Draper joins Friday, and the two are frozen as they look down into the space.

At the rim of the slave mining pit (Paul Mantee and Victor Lundin)

The tiny chamber holds a slaughterhouse or, more accurately, a killing floor. Littered like unwanted debris over this floor, sometimes in piles, are all the corpses of Friday's former fellow slaves. Some of the bodies look scorched and blackened. Draper looks at Friday briefly before staggering on shaky legs from the cave out into the light. After a moment, Friday joins him. Breathing evenly, Friday looks up at the sky, into the sweeping roof of stars above them. He looks at Draper and makes a gesture with his hands, pulling one from the other, thrusting a flat hand toward the sky.

But Draper already has sussed things out. "They took off, huh?" he says vacantly. "And your friends were expendable." Draper looks up at the sky, his jaw hardening. "Nice guys."

Friday takes an air pill from his pouch and, holding it in the palm of an open hand, makes a tossing motion with the other hand.

"They had no air pills?" says Draper, looking directly at Friday. His eyes become distant - unfocused. "It wouldn't have mattered much, the way they blasted them."

Friday clutches Drapers hands urgently, falls to his knees, and bows his head. Suddenly it is clear: Friday has brought Draper here, to this slave pit, to show him what he was spared - and why he is so grateful. "Oma-Teglak," he says fervently. "Oma-Teglak."

Draper reverses the gesture, gripping Friday's forearms in return, lifting him. "It's OK, Friday," he says warmly. Once Friday has risen to his feet, Draper smiles and grasps his arms firmly. "Welcome aboard."

As bad luck would have it, one of the constantly circling Martian asteroids comes screeching over the pit and explodes just above them. An avalanche of ash-like residue fills the sky with blackness, raining down over them, snuffing out the pit's oxygen. Draper tries for the covering of a slave cave, but can't make it. He is covered completely. Friday, more experienced in the Martian environment, immediately swallows an air pill and weathers the black blizzard. He fights through hip-deep ash, digs Draper's unconscious body out, and stuffs an air pill into his mouth. Friday carries him up the side of the mining pit to the clear rim. After a moment, Draper begins breathing and his eyes open. He sees Friday's concerned face above him - and comprehends what Friday has done. Friday immediately offers him another air pill.

In a suddenly intimate movement, Draper takes Friday's hand, closing it into a fist around the air pill; and holds Friday's fist against his forehead. "Thank you," he says. He struggles a moment with his words. "Oma-Teglak," he says. "Oma-Teglak."

Eventually, near the movie's end, there comes a moment when the equality between the two men becomes a simple, even un-dramatic fact: As Friday and Draper make their way toward the icecap of Mars, looking for both water and sanctuary, the alien ships fly overhead. Friday instinctively crouches. The ships fly off. Friday considers things for a moment. "You go," he says to Draper. "Friday stay."

"Why?" asks Draper, confused.

Friday looks up at the sky. "Enemy," he says. He knows the aliens are only pursuing him, not Draper.

"Oh, no," says Draper, understanding. He grabs Friday by his arm, pulls him up. "We're sticking together, buddy."

"Buddy?" asks Friday.

"Yeah, slang for 'brother,'" he says almost absently. "c'mon."

The Good Stuff part II: "I went around touching everything."

"I was amazed that first day of shooting back at the studio," said Paul Mantee about his experience working on Crusoe On Mars. "How beautiful everything looked. I went around touching everything." (7)

I mentioned the beauty of this film earlier, but it bears repeating. This is a highly visual film with several aspects contributing to the stunning whole: Certainly, the matte paintings of Albert Whitlock contribute tremendously to a feeling of depth and majesty; but the set design by Al Nozaki and Hal Pereira, particularly the crater which holds the drinking pool, fits seamlessly into the Whitlock's larger vision (or perhaps Whitlock expanded the look of the set design?).

Of note as well is the sterling cinematography of Winton Hoch, and his great location shooting. The film makers decided to shoot the outdoor scenes in the desert of Death Valley in Eastern California - but not in the desert's floors and valleys as had so many other films; but up high, along the rims where the craggy, unearthly landscape easily doubled as an imagined Mars (8). Filmed in the wide vista of Techniscope, the visual effect can be stunning and a bit unreal - as though one were seeing the glories of an unknown planet for the first time. Finally, one comes away with a rekindled love (if such is needed) for the unbelievable splendor of the planet on which we pass our lives. Contributing a final puzzle piece to the enjoyable whole, the musical score by Van Cleave is about pitch perfect in its dynamic, stately tone - austere and grand.

At the Martian ice cap and point of rescue (Victor Lundin and Paul Mantee)

All in all, a highly recommended movie experience. If one has an HD television and a Blu-ray player, the pricey Criterion Collection release of this film is well worth the asking price.

***

---

1) For my purposes, sci-fi films made between 1950 and 1964-5.

2) Winton Hoch helped in the development of Technicolor and was known for his color cinematography. In fact, he never shot a black and white picture. He received Oscars for 1948's Joan of Arc and two John Ford films, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949) and the lush, The Quiet Man (1952). He was also the man behind the camera for John Ford's masterpiece, The Searchers (1956).

3) Among many other credits, Albert Whitlock did matte backgrounds for the 1974 disaster film, Earthquake; for which he did over 70 paintings - his work on the film earned him an Academy Award. A brief (too brief) overview: Whitlock did backgrounds for Disney Studios throughout the 1950s, moving to Universal Studios in the 60s. He also worked on the visual effects for John Carpenter's absolutely flabbergasting, The Thing (1984). His final film, for which he was visual consultant, was 1992's Chaplin. Whitlock died in 1999.

4)"Mona" was actually a male Wooly Monkey named Barney, for whom the filmmakers designed a fur diaper to hide evidence of his sex. In addition to being a cover-up, the fur "diaper" also prevented Barney from doing all the entirely un-social things male Woolly Monkeys do to and with themselves, oblivious to the norms of human society. In the enjoyable commentary track provided in the Criterion DVD, actor Victor Lundin describes a female friend, who was visiting the set one afternoon early in the shooting, being mortified over a particularly animated Barney performance. What exactly Barney did sans fur diaper, Lundin leaves to the imagination. Whatever, it was decided Barney should wear his diaper henceforth between scenes. Despite the indignity of the fur bikini bottom, Barney was by all accounts an affectionate and loving creature.

5) In Melchior's original conception, Mona the Woolly Monkey was meant to be an indigenous armadillo like creature, about the size of a dog, which Draper finds on Mars and adopts for companionship.

6) Byron Haskins: Commentary Track, Robinson Crusoe on Mars, The Criterion Collection DVD, 2007.

7) Paul Mantee: Commentary Track, Robinson Crusoe on Mars, The Criterion Collection DVD, 2007.

8) There is some confusion about who had the original idea to shoot along the crests and rims of Death Valley. Director, Byron Haskin, claims the idea was completely his own. Writer, Ib Melchior, claims with equal passion that, when developing the first script, he had scouted locations. Mr. Melchior says he gave Mr. Haskin all the high, rim locations used in the movie (Commentary Track, Robinson Crusoe on Mars, The Criterion Collection DVD, 2007).

---

Want it printable? Download the all-text .pdf of this post for portable reading.

Do you prefer Large Print? Download the all-text Large Print .pdf of this post for easy, portable reading.

Now let's enjoy the trailer for Robinson Crusoe On Mars!