Editorials
“There Are No Happy Endings Because Nothing Ends” – ‘The Last Unicorn’ Is Animated Escapism at Its Finest
My escapism ultimately flourished elsewhere, but it began in animation. Baby dinosaurs, guardian angels in the form of bears, and altruistic stray dogs were just some of my babysitters growing up. Of all the colorful reveries that filled my youth and distracted me from formative upsets, however, none have had the same lasting effect as the 1982 film, The Last Unicorn.
This iconic adaptation begins with two hunters coming upon a seemingly vacant forest where neither leaf nor snow falls. This eternally spring wood is home to a legendary creature; a unicorn who remains unseen not because she evades sight but because not all can see her. As the hunters hurry away without even launching a single arrow, one man bids adieu to the local protector of these parts: “And good luck to you, for you are the last.” His parting words of reverence soon set the lonely unicorn on a journey fraught with danger and reflection.
The Last Unicorn was — and still is — my perfect cinematic escape because of its fantastical story; nothing about the film quite ties it to reality at any age. After a stunning opening sequence paired with Jimmy Webb and America‘s equally bracing title song, the solitary namesake of the film dwells on the hunters’ farewell. “I am the only unicorn there is?” she asks herself. Had it not been for these men, the Unicorn (voiced by Mia Farrow) might have never realized her own loneliness. Her life was peaceful if not sheltered, but like so many of us who endure and suffer without awareness of the fact, knowing our troubles have a name as well as a cause only leads to further discontent. There is now an established problem in need of fixing. An eccentric, all-wise butterfly (Robert Klein) eventually sends the Unicorn on her way to find the Red Bull, a fiery horned beast that pushes others like her “to the ends of the Earth.”
Having been introduced to horror at a young age, I was drawn to all things scary. So of course I call attention to the terrifying Midnight Carnival act. After leaving the safety of her forest and going in search of the Red Bull, the Unicorn is captured by witch Mommy Fortuna (Angela Lansbury) and her assistants, Ruhk (Brother Theodore) and Schmendrick (Alan Arkin). The average person sees only a mare when looking directly at a live unicorn, but to a witch-like Fortuna or a wizard-like Schmendrick, they see the truth. The latter has to hide his ability until the time comes to save this rare creature from living life as a cheap sideshow act. The Unicorn, sympathetic toward other magical animals regardless of their temperament or appearance, then frees a real harpy named Celaeno. Although she knew her “death [sat] in that cage,” Fortuna did not fear her imminent demise at Celaeno’s talons. While we never witness the old woman’s grisly fate in detail, our imagination fills in the blanks.
Joining the Unicorn on her voyage is Schmendrick, the amateur wizard whose magic is as unreliable as it is inaccurate. Even though he starts off as the bumbling fool who occasionally requires an enchanted lift from the Unicorn, Schmendrick winds up being an astounding friend who goes to great lengths to help those he cares about. Indeed he is initially consumed by his own desire to become a masterful magician, but Schmendrick realizes magic does not necessarily make him happy. He stands out in the best ways from the majority of the male characters shown in the film.
Also present is Molly Grue (Tammy Grimes), whose first encounter with the Unicorn is downright hostile. She approaches her in anger — “Damn you! Where have you been?” — before bursting into tears. Author and screenwriter Peter S. Beagle does not go into great detail about Molly’s background aside from mentioning a tapestry contest she placed fifth in. However, we can assume her capricious disposition has all to do with a laundry list of life’s regrets. Molly might not have an agenda like everyone else does in the movie, but at the same time, she is aware of her lack of ambition and how miserable that makes her feel. Of course, all that will change now that she is on a new path.
No hero is complete without a villain. Although The Last Unicorn lacks the standard good versus evil story, it does provide an antagonist. The Red Bull would appear to be the Unicorn’s main adversary; the monster rips through the night like a demon and mercilessly stalks its prey. As it turns out, the Red Bull is a mere elemental created to do its master’s bidding. And that master would be no other than King Haggard (Christopher Lee), a tyrant whose appearance matches his name. Haggard’s wish to catch and imprison every unicorn points to his resentment toward all things young and eternal. Nothing pleases him for long; be it an adopted son, Prince Lir (Jeff Bridges), or a wizard’s party tricks. His only delight is removing joy from the world because he can.
Like any child entranced by visuals first and story second, I was immediately snared by the sheer beauty of The Last Unicorn every time I rented it from the local video shop. The film is a medieval tapestry brought to glorious life. The character designs all possess extraordinary weight and energy in spite of their two-dimensional origins and the film’s smaller budget. The landscapes are evocative, the colors are rich, and the backgrounds are finely detailed. The Last Unicorn having been animated by Topcraft, a Japanese team of animators that would later form the heart of Studio Ghibli, explains why it looks so crisp and fluid even after four decades.
This distinct era of hand-drawn films refused to treat its younger audience with kid gloves. A contrast to the Saturday morning cartoons were the more full-fledged stories that appealed to broader audiences. Disney had its small share of mature productions before going the other direction, and Don Bluth is synonymous with darker and less safe animation. Rankin/Bass has always managed to sneak in questionable material in their works; their vintage, stop-motion Christmas specials are home to incidental frights. The Last Unicorn is no different in view of the fact it delivered overt scares on top of existential unease. Knowing that, it was undoubtedly difficult to market The Last Unicorn back then as something it clearly is not.
When younger, I felt confused and disappointed when the Unicorn’s temporary human form, Princess Amalthea, and Prince Lir parted ways rather than live happily ever after together. Other fairytale narratives had me thinking there was no other way to end these kinds of stories. Especially after the Unicorn experiences a crash course in the human condition. According to Schmendrick, though, “There are no happy endings because nothing ends.” Today that specific line resonates deeply and brings solace in hard times. I shuffle between periods of content and malaise, community and withdrawal. But like the Unicorn and Prince Lir who go their separate ways (for now), I remember the story always continues. There is still time to find that fabled happy ending.
What I lack in fond childhood memories I make up for in runaway nostalgia. Being raised by movies and television had a silver lining; I found my way to something as exceptional as The Last Unicorn. The characters, the music, the themes. Every aspect of this gorgeously animated, poignant fantasy still courses through my mind and brings immeasurable comfort when reality starts to feel like too much.
Editorials
Before ‘The Blair Witch Project’, ‘Alien Autopsy’ Showed How Real Found Footage Could Feel
The line separating artist from con man is a lot thinner than you might initially believe. While I think we can all agree that lying for the sake of profit is actively malicious behavior, isn’t it also true that the faux documentary aspect of The Blair Witch Project is half the reason why that film became such a cultural phenomenon? After all, if there’s one thing filmmakers have in common with stage magicians, it’s that misleading and misdirecting audiences is simply part of the job.
That’s why I’ve developed a habit of mostly ignoring the moral quandaries behind many of film and television’s biggest “hoaxes” in favor of appreciating the narrative elements that drive productions like Mermaids: The Body Found and even Animal Planet’s highly underrated The Cannibal in the Jungle. However, if there’s a definitive case of a highly publicized broadcast fooling the world into taking it seriously, it has to be Fox’s infamous 1995 TV special Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction.
It’s been over three decades since that eerie footage first haunted television screens right at the peak of the ’90s ufology craze, and in that time, the video has taken on a life of its own. From countless parodies and references in everything from The X-Files to Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater (as well as John Dower’s recently released tell-all documentary The Alien Autopsy Scandal, which I’d highly recommend to genre fans everywhere), there’s no denying the legacy of the Alien Autopsy video. However, I rarely see the tape discussed as what it truly is: a highly convincing found footage film directed by a passionate stage magician and brought to life by masterful practical effects work.
That’s why I’d like to invite readers to join me on a deep dive into one of the most infamous broadcasts of all time in an attempt to reevaluate the footage as a fascinating narrative experience rather than a complete hoax.
The TV Special That Convinced Millions It Was Real
Ray Santilli next to Extraterrestrial replica in ‘The Alien Autopsy Scandal’
For starters, regardless of whether or not you believe that there was in fact an extraterrestrial crash in Roswell during the summer of 1947 and that some form of autopsy was performed on the victims, the producers behind the black & white recordings, Ray Santilli and Gary Shoefield, insist that their video was a “restoration.” Though I’d argue that the proper word is “remake”of genuine footage that was too damaged to air on television. That’s why the duo went on to recruit filmmaker and eccentric magician Spyros Melaris and sculptor/monster designer John Humphreys to bring their version of the autopsy to life and sell it to the highest bidder.
This is where the story of the Alien Autopsy as a narrative experience really begins. Melaris claims that his approach to the faux recording consisted of striving for extreme period accuracy in both shooting equipment and setting while also planting subtle details that would initially seem like mistakes but could later be revealed to actually fit the time period. That being said, the filmmaker was under the impression that the short would be released for free as a PR stunt, with the team later producing and selling an informative documentary chronicling exactly how the footage was faked and commenting on how easy it is to manipulate public perception with a good old-fashioned magic trick.
This obviously isn’t how things went down, and that’s likely the reason why Melaris has since distanced himself from everyone else involved with the project. Yet, no amount of behind-the-scenes drama can undermine the genuine effort that went into making the short as impressive as it is. From the sourcing of real animal organs from a local butcher to make the organic part of the creature more lifelike to the highly detailed sculpt that made use of a hollowed-out underlayer that could be filled with fake blood and assorted viscera, there’s a reason why so many Hollywood specialists are still impressed with the artistry on display here.
Of course, the believability is only half the story, as I think that the best part of the autopsy is how Melaris builds on the existing tension by obscuring certain details and often embracing the chaos of what a real examination of extraterrestrial life could feel like. The camera often goes out of focus at just the right time to make certain effects hit even harder, and we can only speculate as to what the hazmat-suited doctors are gesticulating about during the operation. There’s a real air of mystery to the whole thing that almost makes it feel like a cosmically terrifying, cursed film containing forbidden knowledge that civilians were never meant to see.
So when Fox’s Fact or Fiction brings in the specialists to comment on the film and its otherworldly subject, it’s no surprise that we end up with one of the most memorable mockumentaries of all time – albeit one where the participants are unaware that the footage they’re commenting on is basically a large-scale practical joke. A joke that the network was obviously in on, as many participants claim that the TV special cut out significant portions where guests point out that they believe the footage to be an elaborate hoax.
The Lasting Impact of the Hoax Turned Cultural Event
Regardless, I remember going to bed terrified after watching reruns of the special and thinking about the respected pathologist who claimed that the body was almost certainly inhuman, with even effects maestro Stan Winston commenting on how difficult it would be to recreate some of these visuals through practical puppetry. That’s not even mentioning Jonathan Frakes’ dramatic hyping up of the disturbing imagery as if he was talking about the tape from The Ring, with his spooky demeanor here likely being responsible for his later role as the host of Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction a few years later.
Personally, I’d argue that the Alien Autopsy phenomenon had just as much of an impact on me as a horror fan as The Blair Witch Project, a film that was almost certainly influenced by the success of this immensely popular hoax (to the point where they even produced their own TV special commenting on Heather’s found footage). Even if Fox didn’t intend to produce a narrative feature about the aftermath of the Roswell crash, the end product still holds up remarkably well as a highly entertaining mockumentary exploring the idea that we may not be alone in the universe.
While neither Santilli nor the rest of the production team has ever commented on this, I also think it’s very likely that the idea of a faux Alien Autopsy could have been influenced by Dean Alioto’s The McPherson Tape/UFO Abduction. I’ve already written about how this granddaddy of found footage was co-opted by rogue ufologists who began selling bootlegs of the tape at conventions as if it were real evidence of a close encounter, so it’s not that much of a stretch to imagine that Santilli and company could have heard about this phenomenon and been inspired to come up with their own highly profitable hoax.
At the end of the day, it’s unlikely that the Alien Autopsy film is recreating any real footage from Roswell, but I can still appreciate the short and the accompanying television event as a standalone horror story that still influences the way we see found footage to this very day.
After all, the possibility that something could be real is often much scarier than finding out for sure – and that’s why I think Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction is still worth revisiting three decades down the line.
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