Although I am not that much of a fan of the 1966 Hammer color remake to begin with – or caveman epics in general – I had always been intrigued by the original 1940 black-and-white version which, apart from being arguably Hal Roach's most ambitious undertaking, was (ostensibly) a pioneering work in special effects and, furthermore, served to give Victor Mature his first starring role. Although a friend of mine (who is the No. 1 fan of the latter that I know of) does have a 16mm print of this under its British title MAN AND HIS MATE, I eventually managed to track it down via a TCM USA screening. Having now watched it for myself, I cannot say that it has served to endear the genre in my eyes or make the thin plot any more compelling than in the Hammer version. Firstly, the special effects may have been nominated for an Oscar, have a primitive {sic} charm about them and been re-utilized in many another cheap production thereafter (notably the abysmal ROBOT MONSTER [1953]) but the various anachronistic dinosaurs look far too much like magnified-lizards-shot-on-miniature-sets to be believably dangerous; a long-drawn out battle between two such 'monsters' is a particular liability! Besides, the grunt-laden 'dialogue' grows alternately silly and tiresome as the film progresses; at least, the film-makers have provided a prologue in which modern day travelers take shelter from the rain in a cave and a residing(?) anthropologist entertains them by interpreting the age-old illustrations on the walls as re-enacted by themselves. At the age of just 33, Lon Chaney Jr. is made up to look much older and play Mature's dad while the latter – sporting a full head of hair a decade before SAMSON AND DELILAH (1949) – appears decidedly schoolboyish; still, what is even harder to accept is how blonde Carole Landis blossomed amidst these surroundings! This is not to say that the film is unentertaining or badly made because it really is not; in fact, the climactic volcano eruption is very well staged and the film's undeniable highlight, the set decoration appropriately atmospheric and Werner R. Heymann's rousing score was deservedly singled out by the Academy for Oscar consideration. Incidentally, for years it was believed that forgotten cinema pioneer D. W. Griffith – whose famous two-reeler MAN'S GENESIS (1912) may well have inspired the film to begin with – had been actively involved in the production before getting the sack from Roach, but his contribution has since been disputed as having been all too minimal (unless our resident Griffith expert wants to give his informed account of the matter).
Review of One Million B.C.
