EARTH vs. THE FLYING SAUCERS—“People of Earth–attention!” In the Middle Ike Age, circa 1956, our floating blue orb was invaded at least four times. One, Godzilla: King Of The Monsters was a pissed off import from relatively nearby. The others had a longer journey— Invasion Of The Body Snatchers, It Conquered The World and this colonizing crowd who, upon being asked, not unreasonably, “Who are you? Where are you from?” fess up that “We are the survivors of a disintegrated solar system.” They then have the cosmic temerity to demand  “Arrange for your world leaders to confer with us in the city of Washington.” Them’s fightin’ words, smug-alien-super-intellect-with-unstoppable-firepower…

‘Dr. Russell Marvin’ (Hugh Marlowe), scientist in charge of space program ‘Operation Skyhook’, and his new bride ‘Carol’ (Joan Taylor), on a drive thru the California desert, witness a UFO. They shortly find it’s part of a fleet of alien craft, carrying the remnants of a race from another solar system. They want the Earth for a new home, and if humans won’t voluntarily give up then the airborne immigrants will take ownership by force. ‘We’ fight back, led by the usual coterie of stern generals, worried scientists and the leading lady who of course is related to one of them who’ll be sacrificed before our expected victory.

The writing has the era staple of clunkers delivered with straight faces by the cast and sees to it that the aliens use vaporizing death rays like our Martian guests did for The War Of The Worlds and that we deploy sound waves, a presto!-weapon we’d soon whip up to settle the crunchy hash of giant grasshoppers in Beginning Of The End. Directed by Fred F. Sears—he cranked out nine features in ’56—the bland human interaction is merely serviceable: stolid Marlowe and expressionless Taylor make one of the duller 50s sci-fi couples (that’s saying a lot) and stock footage gets a workout, blending into the special effects with scenes of assorted destruction—storms, fires, plane and ship wrecks— plus good old-fashioned displays of military hardware—artillery, jets, rockets—reliably useless against the aliens.

What makes this zing is that the special effects that were specifically created were done by Ray Harryhausen. On the heels (or scales & suckers) of The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms and It Came From Beneath The Sea, Harryhausen’s gift for gee-whizzing gets rein to showcase cool saucers (at least cool back in what’s now lazily referred to as “the day”) and neato stop-motion smasharamas like clobbering the Washington Monument and the Capitol Building. Kids ate this up, and those saucers made enough of an impression on a tyke named Tim Burton (born in ’58) that when he got rich & famous he paid tribute to the imprinted imagery with his assault wave of spaceships in Mars Attacks!

“They expect to terrify is with a display of power. They’re contemptuous of our defenses.” So, they’re Parents From Outer Space? Written by Bernard Gordon (lotsa schlock) and George Worthing Yates (Them!), clocking 84 minutes, earning $3,600,000 that secured 95th place in 1956.

“When an armed and threatening power lands in our capital, we don’t meet him with tea and cookies.” (cough)

Period hardies in stalwart support: Donald Curtis (a walking statue of stiffness), Morris Ankrum (as a general, again), John Zaremba (later to mann knobs on The Time Tunnel), Thomas Browne Henry (all curt and severe), ever dependable Harry Lauter (seen in as many film & TV oldies as William Phipps: look him—heck, both of ’em—up).

* Hughwho—Mr. Marlowe tackled the angry space critter zone in The Day The Earth Stood Still and led the crew who found World Without End. In the leading dude coup count from 1950’s sci-fi doggedly serious Hugh (a descendant of Mayflower pioneer/emigrant Myles Standish) shared a 3-way tie with Kenneth Tobey and Forrest Tucker. Richard Carlson and Richard Denning claimed six apiece but the galactic table was run by hardy grimacer John Agar, with at least eleven.

First thing you do after being buzzed by a craft from another galaxy: fire up a Lucky Strike.

Gam right—in gallant defense of Joan Taylor (1929-2012), when she was 19 one producer at Paramount had her legs (pretty dang fab) insured for $100,000 ($1,320,000 in 2024). Joan was on view in Apache Woman, Girls In Prison and 20 Million Miles To Earth. She lucked out by marrying the fella who ended up creating Hawaii Five-O.