Was kommen wird

While a bit preachy on the topic of progress as the saving grace of mankind, this is still a stunning film that presages the science-fiction special effects blockbusters that would take another 40 years to arrive on the silver screen. It predicts the global chaos of WWII, but expands on the premise by having the conflict last 30 years, and then tells the epic tale of man's struggle out from under the rubble and into the wilds of space. The acting seems wooden and strangely sterile, but this is perhaps a result of its contrast with the visuals which must have been utterly breathtaking at the time of the movie's release, and which still impress today. This is a film not to be missed by anyone at all interested in the SF genre.

Eisenstein dreamed of an "intellectual cinema" which would expound theories and illustrate ideas. He hoped to film Marx's "Das Kapital". In reality, intellectual cinema has been achieved more often in the decadent West's commercial movie business: most notably by Kubrick in "2001" and, 32 years earlier, by Korda and HG Wells in "Things to Come".

Don't look to this flick for well-rounded characters, a coherent A-to-B storyline or naturalistic dialogue and body language. It's a grandiose thesis in images, designed to pose Wells's constant question: must Man drive himself on to explore his and Nature's potentialities at all costs, or will he grow tired and afraid of transforming the world and his own nature?

At the beginning, we see the destructiveness of total war: potentialities for harm, even for collective suicide. Nations fight each other to the death, the "Wandering Sickness" bounces civilisation back to a primitive subsistence and it requires a new breed of airborne technocrat to set progress rolling again. At the finish, we see the revolt of the masses spurred by artists and abstract thinkers who fear progress; they are out to smash the Space Gun before Man can launch his children into the frightening terra incognita of space.

Along the way, a devastating prophecy of World War Two, all mass bomber raids and poison gas, with tank blitzkriegs for good measure. It must have chilled the blood of the film's original spectators, for the first bombs on Everytown demolish a cinema. Cameron Menzies shoots the raid in dynamic Russian-montage style with a brilliant use of sound: the incoming bombers which will "always get through" buzz louder and louder like a swarm of hornets. After years of deepening chaos, order is roughly restored by Ralph Richardson's Mussolini-like "Boss" (who says Thirties films weren't allowed to do satire?) before he is brushed aside by Raymond Massey's burning-eyed, supercilious Airman, who seems more of a tyrant than Richardson. No democratic nonsense for Wings Over the World.

The final sequence of Everytown in the future is an art deco poem in gleaming silver and grey, which evokes the streamlining so in vogue between the wars. Wells's imagination does not stretch to jet propulsion, and the "helicopter" spotted by one IMDB reviewer is more probably based on Ricardo De La Cierva's autogiro; but other aspects of 1936's future, such as the mall-like internal public spaces full of plants and giant TV screens, are spot-on. In the long montage of rebuilding Everytown, laser cutting technology and computers are implied: the movie was released the year Alan Turing's famous paper on computable numbers was written.

More than "The Private Life of Henry VIII", "Things to Come" stands for Korda's rescue job on the British sound film. For it went beyond anything Hollywood, then preoccupied with Thalberg-esque costume frolics and Warners' problem pictures, could imagine. London Films demonstrated that British skill in special effects could surpass America's, while the score by Arthur Bliss was the first to be sold on disc.

None of this necessarily matters to today's casual viewer, and the occasionally creaky or "fratefully refained" bit of acting is bathetic; but these flaws are easily forgiven against the grandeur of the conception, and the abiding relevance of the final question sung into the starry night. "Which Shall It Be?"- dangerous development or soothing stagnation? The choice is still ours.

Powerful, yet creaky science fiction film from the 30's by the Korda clan. H. G. Wells's work is brought to the screen as a vision of what warfare will bring mankind in the century to follow. The film shows the destructive nature of war and how is will catapult us back to a state of barbarism, warlords, and another Black Death-like plague called the "wandering Sickness." However, because man clings to science, man will rise above all this and create a new, modern society free of warfare. The film has a lot of historical inaccuracies to its discredit NOW, yet much of what is preaches is plausible sometime, and much of it has some truth to it in some form. The theme that man can prevail and keep discovering/conquering new vistas is a laudable one. The film shows that progress and science are the things which advance us as a people. I thought of Ayn Rand and Atlas Shrugged as I heard one of the characters say something to the effect that the scientists/inventors had formed their own civilization, free of corruption and violence. The pace of the film is somewhat tortoise-like at times, yet many scenes are very compelling. The set designs are outstanding in the futuristic world of 2036(where they valiantly try to put a rocket in space to make a preliminary orbit around the moon). Acting is good with Raymond Massey and Cedric Hardwicke giving good performances, but it is Ralph Richardson as a "Boss" who deserves the most praise for giving a powerful performance of a man with inherent human traits that stymie progress. A though-provoking film indeed!

While this film stands the test of time as a science fiction classic, its importance may not lie in its depiction of future wars, pestilence, and rebuilding. The most telling prediction comes in the latter part of the film -- the worker revolt. I disagree with the premise that workers would revolt out of fear of space travel. But, the idea of revolt out of fear of what technology is (and will) do to their lives is a real fear. Even today.

Sociologists who've read the Unibomber's manifesto have said that, while his methods and mentality were unsound, some of his suppositions on the effects of automation on humanity were plausible. We've evolved from a craft culture (human) to a mechanized culture (where humans used machines to meet the needs of humans) to an automated culture (where humans are expected to adapt themselves to the needs of their machines). Don't believe it? Pull a check out of your checkbook and look on the back. You'll find the words "Do not write below this line." This is NOT a request or suggestion, it's an ORDER to conform to the needs of machines that read checks.

Still, the film clearly illustrates a future that will eventually occur -- one where some people put all their trust and faith in our modern marvels -- while others left powerless and impotent by these modern marvels ask whether this progress was worth the price.

Things to Come is that rarity of rarities, a film about ideas. Many films present a vision of the future, but few attempt to show us how that future came about. The first part of the film, when war comes to Everytown, is short but powerful. (Ironically, film audiences in its release year laughed at reports that enemy planes were attacking England--appeasement was at its height. Wells' prediction was borne out all too soon.) The montage of endless war that follows, while marred by sub-par model work, is most effective. The explanatory titles are strongly reminiscent of German Expressionist graphic design. The art director was the great William Cameron Menzies, and his sets of the ruins of Everytown are among his best work. Margaretta Scott is very seductive as the Chief's mistress. The Everytown of the 21st century is an equally striking design. The acting in the 21st century story is not compelling--perhaps this was a misfired attempt to contrast the technocratic rationality of this time with the barbarism of 1970. Unfortunately, the model work, representing angry crowds rushing down elevated walkways, is laughably bad and could have been done much better, even with 30s technology. This is particularly galling since the scenes of the giant aircraft are very convincing. This is redeemed by Raymond Massey's magnificent speech that concludes the film--rarely has the ideal of scientific progress been expressed so well. Massey's final question is more relevant now than ever, in an era of severely curtailed manned spaceflight. The scene is aided by the stirring music of Sir Arthur Bliss, whose last name I proudly share.

Unfortunately, the VHS versions of this film are absolutely horrible, with serious technical problems. Most versions have edited out a rather interesting montage of futuristic workers and machines that takes us from 1970 to 2038. I hope a good DVD exists of the entire film.