Mysterious Island

Synopsis: During the US Civil War, Union POWs escape in a balloon and end up stranded on a South Pacific island, inhabited by giant plants and animals. They must use their ingenuity to survive the dangers, and to devise a way to return home. Sequel to '20,000 Leagues Under the Sea'.
Director(s): Cy Endfield
Production: Columbia Pictures
 
IMDB:
6.8
Rotten Tomatoes:
83%
APPROVED
Year:
1961
101 min
293 Views


All right, get down.

-Where's his papers?

-They're all here.

Don't worry, Sergeant.

You'll find them all in order.

All right. Get in there!

Is that necessary?

-All I want is a nice, dry prison cell.

-Get moving!

Is the balloon still there, Captain?

It's whipping around a bit,

but still waiting for us.

We'll need your blanket, Neb.

Captain?

I think the kid is scared.

Well, aren't you?

-You want a hand with that?

-No, sir.

I've got them both almost through.

Captain, do you think that balloon will fly

in a big wind like this without busting open?

That's not the problem, Herbert.

The problem is whether it'll fly at all.

Captain?

We've never seen more

than the top of it over the houses.

What if there's a whole

regiment guarding it?

We'll just have to fight

the whole regiment, Herbert.

Hey, Captain.

They're coming early.

Are we going through with it?

We've got no choice.

I see I shall have company.

How charming!

Won't you introduce me to

these gentlemen?

Come on, prisoner.

Get their clothes.

Here.

-Here are the keys.

-Now, you both know what to do.

Yes, sir.

Come on, get out of here.

Halt!

Hurry up!

Come on!

Wait!

Don't let me fall!

Lighten the basket. We've

got to gain height.

You all right?

Hey, Captain.

All right, let's get this

rebel out of here.

That's a mighty long drop.

You sure you know everything

about running this balloon?

Maybe this man could help us.

All right. Tie him up.

Now that we're up here, I suppose

we should introduce ourselves.

-Captain Cyrus Harding.

-Captain, look, food.

This is Neb. Union soldier.

-I'm Herbert Brown, Pennsylvania Infantry.

-Watch it!

Don't all crowd to one side.

I know what uniform that is.

You're a Union war correspondent.

Very observant, young man.

Gideon Spilett,

New York Herald.

How much food is in that box, Neb?

Enough for five days, maybe.

Four if Mr. Spilett decides to stay.

That all depends, of course,

on where you're headed.

Wherever the wind takes us,

Mr. Spilett.

Looks like your other

guest is coming around.

You're my prisoner.

What's your name and rank?

Sergeant Pencroft.

Regiment?

Confederate Army.

That's all you'll get out of me.

Now listen, soldier.

You ever seen a burial at sea?

Well, you're dressed for one.

Only we're not over the sea.

We're over land, and about a mile up.

It's a long way up, Sergeant.

What these warriors are

trying to say, Sergeant...

...is that if you know anything

about running this thing, you can stay.

Otherwise...

I can work it.

Do you mean you can bring this

thing down when you like?

I can bring you down,

but not necessarily alive.

The way this wind is running,

we'll smash to a pulp when we hit land.

You offering parole?

That's all, rebel.

All right, then. Now hear my terms.

This gale is blowing due west.

Now, maybe we could come down

in your lines, and maybe in mine.

Whichever it is, nobody is anybody's

prisoner when we touch land.

Do you understand?

We all go our own way,

and we don't discuss politics.

Otherwise, Yankees, you can just let

this gale blow you to kingdom come.

All right, cut him loose.

Congratulations, Captain.

This was just the beginning.

We escaped, but only into the clutches

of the greatest storm in American history.

Below us, when we could still see through

the patches of angry clouds...

...were smashed cities

and forests torn up by their roots.

Then finally,

the Earth disappeared from our view.

We were prisoners of the wind,

helpless in the storm's mighty grip.

And we wondered how much longer

would we remain aloft?

Would we ever set foot

on the Earth again?

Hey, Captain...

Westward, Neb, still westward.

It's been four days.

Hey, looks like water.

It could be a lake.

Well, it's too big to be a river.

It's too big for either.

Must be the ocean.

Pencroft, take us down

and we'll have a closer look.

It can't be the Pacific.

It can't be anything else.

You mean we've been carried

clear across America?

It looks like it.

Captain, aren't we coming

down awfully fast?

Pencroft, close the valve.

It's stuck!

We're going to hit

the water and drown!

Can't you do something?

Get your hands off that rope!

It's caught across the opening.

Someone's got to get up there!

-I'm going up.

-No! Lighten the balloon.

Chuck out the rest of the sandbags.

Hurry, Captain. Hurry!

The valve, Captain!

Turn that valve, Captain!

Harder!

No, not that way!

No!

Thank you, Pencroft.

I'm glad I decided to let you stay.

Not you, Captain.

It's this valve bar you broke off.

-Hey, we're not dropping anymore.

-No, I got it closed.

You closed it permanently.

We can't get down anymore.

This was the only control we had.

Captain, the balloon,

it's tearing open.

Everything! Throw out everything!

Throw out the food, too?

Food, clothes, everything loose.

We're still dropping, Mr. Spilett.

I suppose you'll want us to volunteer

to go over the side next.

Listen!

It sounds like waves

breaking on the shore.

Land!

Where?

Dead ahead, there.

We'll never stay up long

enough to get there.

Everybody up on the ring.

Cut the basket loose.

-What for?

-The man's right.

There might be enough gas in the balloon

to keep us afloat on the water.

Come on.

Get up there.

I can't.

Now look, you climb or you drown, soldier.

Now get up there!

All right. Now cut it off at these ropes.

Captain!

-I'm swimming in.

-You'd better not!

That's the way I'm going.

No!

Captain Harding! Captain Harding!

Captain Harding! It's me, Neb.

Did you see anything, Neb?

No. How about you?

Nothing. We went about a mile beyond

where he dropped off.

-Not a sign.

-Maybe he's a bit further up that way.

He'd have to be the best swimmer

in the world to get even this far.

-It won't hurt us to try.

-He's drowned.

You got no right to say that,

do you hear me?

Maybe Spilett's seen something

from the rocks.

Oysters, gentlemen?

How come you're not looking

for the Captain, Mr. Spilett?

Because I'm looking for food instead.

Boy, did you ever see oysters

that size before?

-It's almost supernatural, isn't it?

-Look at him.

He's interested in food

while the Captain is still missing.

Take it easy, Neb.

You won't find him. Not alive, anyway.

I tell you he's drowned.

All right, Sergeant. Help yourself.

There. Get your health back.

-What, just raw like that?

-Sure. Why not?

No, thanks.

Come on, boy. Eat up! Come on!

Hey! Smoke!

Come on.

Captain Harding!

-Hey, Captain, are you all right?

-Yeah.

I knew you were alive, Captain.

Hey, didn't I tell you?

Didn't I tell you?

Neb, Herbert, you're all safe. Good.

Good morning, Captain. We missed you.

We would have found you sooner, Captain,

if you hadn't hidden out in these rocks.

-Didn't you bring me here?

-No, sir. We saw your fire.

I wasn't capable of lighting a fire

even if I'd had any matches.

And I hadn't.

None of us had, either.

I don't remember anything

since I went under.

Obviously. Neb,

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John Prebble

John Edward Curtis Prebble, FRSL, OBE,(23 June 1915 – 30 January 2001) was an English journalist, novelist, documentarian and popular historian. He is best known for his studies of Scottish history. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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