2001: Evolution to the Stars

 Warning: Spoilers for 2001: A Space Odyssey ahead. I highly suggest that you watch it. Unfortunately, it cannot be found on Netflix.

Finally, a movie in color! And what a movie it is!

Stanley Kubrick's magnum opus 2001: A Space Odyssey came out in the midst of the space race. In 1961, the Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin became the first human in space, and the world's two great superpowers shot for the moon. 2001 was conceived of by Kubrick in 1964, and was released in April of 1968, a little over a year before Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon.

The film imagines a future (well, 2001 was the future at the time) in which space travel is a normal occurrence; the astronomer Dr. Floyd takes a shuttle to a massive space station orbiting earth, then boards another shuttle for the Clavius moon base. Through all of this, even in zero gravity, he wears normal business attire.

The film sets out to produce a realistic view of space travel, in part by taking inspiration from the fledgling space programs of the time. Food comes in vacuum-sealed packages, and is drunk through straws. Gravity is not produced through some mystical process, but rather through the spinning of the space station. Even when Dr. Bowman and Dr. Poyle set out for Jupiter on a later mission, their travel time is represented accurately. And, of course, there is no sound in space, and there is no sound in 2001's version of space, either.

The film is a reaction to the space race in more ways than the accuracy of its space travel. Its central mystery is a number of strange black obelisks. In the first scene of the film, one such obelisk comes to a group of apes, appearing to teach them to use tools and leading to their evolution into humans. Millions of years later, another obelisk is found on the moon; the subject of Dr. Floyd's research, this one does nothing but send a radio pulse to an area of space around Jupiter. When Dr. Bowman examines this area of space, he finds anothe obelisk.

The obelisk flings Dr. Bowman through the universe at faster-than-light speeds, before transforming him into a giant, baby-like creature looking down at earth from orbit.

Kubrick seems to suggest that such a state is the next stage of human evolution. Obviously, we aren't going to evolve into star babies, but during the space race the possibility that we could evolve beyond the earth was very real. What would humanity look like, once it had colonized other planets or even other stars? Perhaps we would be looking down at the earth from above, seeing it as a single, unified planet.

Kubrick's message seems to be, like so many others of his time, at least partially a response to the cold war. The star baby does not see individuals, or even nations, but rather a single planet, one among many. Kubrick suggests that to perceive the world as the star baby does, as a unified whole, represents an evolution beyond the conflict of the cold war.

The Day the Earth Stood Still: Fears of a New Atomic Age

 Warning: Spoilers for The Day the Earth Stood Still ahead. I highly suggest that you watch it; it can be found on Netflix.

"Klaatu barada nikto," Helen tells Gort, panicked. The 8-foot-tall robot stops suddenly, carries Helen inside the saucer, and departs to find Klaatu. When Gort returns, he lays Klaatu's body in a kind of bed, restoring Klaatu's life.

This jumble of nonsense words describes the climactic scene of The Day the Earth Stood Still, and one of the most famous scenes in all of science fiction.

The alien Klaatu and his robotic bodyguard Gort have touched down in Washington, D.C., in a prototypical flying saucer. Their arrival is not a pleasant one; Klaatu is shot almost immediately by an overeager soldier, and is rushed to the nearest hospital. While there, the Secretary of Defense visits him. Klaatu tells the secretary that he has an urgent message for all of the world leaders to hear; the secretary, of course, recognizes that this is impossible with the divide between the USA and USSR. Klaatu resolves to go undercover as Mr. Carpenter to find out more about this strange, divided planet.

Already, the film is reacting to the seemingly senseless divisions of the burgeoning Cold War, and this reaction only grows stronger as the film progresses. Klaatu/"Mr. Carpenter" finds himself in the care of a woman named Helen, her husband Tom, and their young son Billy. Billy shows him Arlington cemetery, where he is surprised at the number of humans killed in wars. Again, the film comments on the deep divisions possible among humans, and their costly toll, pointing out the seeming pointlessness of it all.

The Day the Earth Stood Still saves most of its sociopolitical commentary for the end, though. After Klaatu is killed by a soldier and subsequently resurrected (in a not-so-subtly Christlike manner), he delivers his urgent message to a gathering of some of the world's top scientific minds: now that Earth has developed nuclear weapons, it poses a threat to other planets, and must disarm itself or face annihilation.

While Klaatu spoke of interplanetary danger, lines such as "There must be security for all, or no one is secure" make it clear that he speaks of nuclear proliferation on one planet only: Earth.

Out of all of the film's message, the sentiment expressed in this final speech was by far the most timely. In 1949, the USSR conducted its first successful weapons test. US President Harry S. Truman, after learning of the weapons test via covert surveillance of the USSR, announced its success to the world on September 23rd of the same year. The test immediately prompted calls for thermonuclear weapons tests, sparking the Cold War.

The Day the Earth Stood Still was written, filmed, and released in 1951, only two years later. It reflected the frustration of the American populace at even more senseless conflict after two massive wars, and offered a fragile vision of hope in its final moments.

The successful test of a hydrogen bomb was carried out in 1952, shattering this hope.

Metropolis: Anti-Industrialism and Populism in Weimar Germany

 Warning: Spoilers for Metropolis ahead. I highly suggest that you watch it; the most recently restored version can be found on Netflix.

The New Tower of Babel looms over the massive futuristic city of Metropolis. Joh Fredersen, the city's industrialist boss, watches over all. His son, Freder, lives a paradisaical life in the eternal gardens. Underneath the luxurious city, however, is a second city of workers, powering the machines that keep Metropolis running. Unbeknownst to the above-ground, a young activist named Maria urges the workers to search for a mediator between the two classes and end the inequality. Meanwhile, Fredersen's rival, the mad scientist Rotwang, creates a robot capable of taking human form.

Such is the premise of Fritz Lang's 1927 science fiction masterpiece Metropolis. It was made in Germany, during the culturally and politically turbulent times of the Weimar Republic, and this is evident in more than just the language the characters speak. The film advances an anti-industrialist worldview that could even be described as anti-American, and highlights both the successes and downfalls of populist movements.

Lang was given the idea for the city of Metropolis by a visit to New York City in 1924, and the influences of New York's architecture on the film are clear, particularly in the abundance of Art Deco buildings. Though impressed by New York City's scale, Lang saw the bright lights and tall buildings as little more than distractions from real problems of inequality. He imagined Metropolis as a natural progression of the industrialization and capitalism of America.

This anti-industrialist sentiment was informed by more than just a visit to New York, of course; it stemmed from the economic conditions of Weimar Germany. The Weimar Period was marked by hyperinflation, high unemployment, and sharp class divides, largely as a result of burdensome reparations and poor economic decisions. As a result, discontent with the upper-crust industrialists who gained power before and during World War I was widespread in Weimar Germany.

Metropolis also examines the virtues and vices of populist movements, tending more toward the latter. Despite its rather Marxian view on class inequality and class struggle, its portrayal of a revolution is one of easily manipulated, vicious mobs. The worker's revolution in Metropolis proves to be pointless and counterproductive.

The negative portrayal of populism is, again, a reflection of the Weimar Period. In the first half of the 1920's, Weimar Germany had seen two major left-wing populist uprisings, one in Bavaria and one in Ruhr. Neither were effective in achieving their goals, and both were brutally crushed. Lang likely drew from these counterproductive revolutions in his own portrayal of revolution.

More foreboding was the growth of the Nazi party between 1920 and 1923. Though temporarily stalled by the failure of the Beer Hall Putsch, they had shown that a radical populist movement could gain support rather quickly. Lang saw this, and portrayed the mob mentality that led to the rise of the Nazi party; in Metropolis, the workers are incited by Rotwang's robot (disguised as Maria) to destroy the machines that keep the city running. They are so rabid in their fury that they forget to evacuate the children from their underground city, and the children nearly drown due to a pump failure.

Lang was perhaps naive to think that such rabid populism could have a happy ending; Metropolis ends with Freder fulfilling his role as the mediator, and cuts to its most famous line, "The mediator between head and hands must be the heart!" Unfortunately, Lang's worst fears about populism came true when the Nazis came to power at the start of the 1930's.