La vita futura

Things to Come is a look into the future from the perspective of the people of 1936. By today's standards and with hindsight, it seems a little corny but to the people of that time, the movie showed what could have been a real possibility. This sci-fi movie shows the horrors of war and the price of progress predicted by a film made in 1936 by eyes that were looking at a world on the brink of World War II. It's a movie that shows what they thought the world would be like if a major war broke out. One good reason for viewing this film is because it shows this perspective, and because it was one of the early serious attempts of a science fiction film that takes a look into the future. For those interested in the history of early sci-fi in the cinema, Things To Come is a must see.

Aside from the great movie METROPOLIS, this is about the oldest pure sci-fi movie. While at times the film is a bit preachy and the acting can be a bit broad, it is a great film for two reasons. First, it is extremely original in both style and content. Even in the 21st century, there are no films I can think of that are anything like it. Second, for its time, the special effects were absolutely incredible--using matte paintings, models and huge casts to create amazing scenes of both a post-apocalyptic world and a vast city of tomorrow. Sure, you could sit back and knock the film because, by today's standards, the effects are only so-so. But, you must appreciate that this was state of the art when the film came out in 1936 and it must have really amazed audiences. In many ways, the sets look highly reminiscent of the "modern cities" featured at the 1939 WORLD'S FAIR.

I think the movie is also interesting because it seems torn by the question "are people really THAT stupid or are we destined for greatness?" The end result seems to be a little of both! How true!

A final note: I saw this twice on TV and just a short time ago on video. All three times the sound and print quality stank--particularly the sound. If this is available on a DVD, hopefully it is a lot cleaner and will provide optional captioning. As the sound on the video kept cutting out, I really would have appreciated this!

Things to Come (1935)

It's tough to make a movie about the future, and it's even tougher when the future overtakes the movie. We saw it literally in "1984" and "2001." And we see it in the tea leaves with movies of the near future like "Minority Report" or "AI" or, just for the fun of it, "Sleeper." Or "Brazil." Or "Twelve Monkeys."

Yes, it can go any number of ways, and a writer and director can look to make things realistic enough to go with the fantasy, or make things fantastic and the hell with realism. I'm not talking the distant future, like "Star Wars" but the kind of future we might live to see, you know, "Planet of the Apes." These kinds of movies are everywhere, and they are a kind of thrill just for their vision of the future.

"Things to Come" was made as Europe was teetering toward war but there was only the Spanish Civil War under way. The way it "foresees" a devastating world war is pretty amazing, even now, as long as you keep the dates straight. When it jumps (after half an hour of some pretty terrific filming) to 1970, it gets more fictional, and we have a primitive future of devastation and a struggling rabble trying to survive, and revive civilization. It's a common way to look at the unknown--to revert to a primitive time--and it's fun and a little overwhelming if you take it seriously. The big theme of war, and of a future society opposed to war, is an old one but who can get tired of it?

The first half hour is a wonder of Soviet Expressionist filming. I know, this is a British movie, very British (except, oddly, the director Menzies), but it looks like Eisenstein both filmed it and edited it, and the effect is amazing. If you only have half an hour, watch just this first part and don't worry too much about the plot. The remainder of the movie settles down, and looks a little like either "Intolerance" (yes, 1916 stuff, with big outdoor sets) or "Caligari" (German Expressionist interiors, tamed down a bit). In a word, this is an old fashioned movie in the best way--it's artsy and exuberant. And it's not forward looking for a movie about the future until it reaches the 21st Century, and then it gets amazingly right the prevalence of imagery, of transparent, electronic images on screens large and small, even if they are wearing Roman togas.

H.G. Wells not only wrote the original novel, but he wrote the screenplay, which makes the movie significant through and through. It is sometimes ponderous and trying too hard to be idealistic amidst human instinct for violence and control. After a fabulous (fabulous) montage sequence to move us ahead another half century, we continue the rather boring discussion (talk) about the future of the world, and the value of civilization. It's amazing to look at, but it's not an exciting thing to hear discussed. In short, it lacks plot. Luckily it has a lot of other stuff to compensate.

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.

There are some film classics that we have almost lost. I don't mean the might-have-beens, like Laughton's "I Claudius," but films that were released and quite successful and are now in grave need of rescue. The hallmark of such films is the terrible quality of the available prints because the master negative is lost. "My Man Godfrey" and "Nothing Sacred" come to mind. And, of course, "Things to Come".

If the abstractions of the art deco aesthetic could be reified into a story, "Things to Come" might be the result. If the Chrysler Building really were a rocket ship and could fly past the moon and stars and comets of art deco friezes...if we could look into those naive mindsets, whose visions of man's destiny were being energized by the discoveries of relativity, atomic energy and deep space...we might indeed embrace the images of "Things to Come".

Some of the scenes may strike us a corny - as might those of Fritz Lang's "Metropolis" - but they are no cornier in their context than those in "2001, a Space Odyssey" or, for that matter, "Starship Troopers". Here is an honest attempt to project the world into the future, not some silly cowboys-in-space flick.

"Things to Come" makes only a couple of demands: first, that we ditch our smug sophistication and presentist prejudices; second, that we have the discipline to see past the print quality. It may take repeated viewings, as it did with me, but in the end you will be rewarded by a unique odyssey, not into our future but into the future of history.