L'uomo illustrato

Even though both Rod Serling and Ray Bradbury hated this film I did not and I always appreciate thought provoking science fiction. Todays shallow and unimaginative audiences seem to hate a film that makes you think but thats what good sci-fi does. Rod Steiger has his usual commanding performance and he is a bit much at times. Hostile and violent, its hard to feel sympathy for him. Robert Drivas is very good and at times the film belongs to him but these are fleeting moments as its always impossible to upstage Steiger. Claire Bloom is enchanting but I never really bought into her "Siren" character. I did enjoy the 3 stories even though number three was a little weak. I like the fact that this film is trying to be different. Watching Drivas stare at the illustrations (Don't call them tattoo's!) and then having the film drift into the story that each design is about to tell him I found very interesting. Its not great narrative but I appreciate the effort to be original. Steiger and Bloom were married at the time and it was the last year of their ten year union. Could they're problems have spilled out on screen during they're scenes? Maybe. Not a great film and certainly it wasn't told in a great way but I do appreciate a film that is thought provoking. Something that todays science fiction films lack completely!

Since most of this film consists of three independent tales it is not unlike watching The Twilight Zone or the Outer Limits on television, except that the source material is the very best possible, and Rod Steiger and Claire Bloom are two of the finest actors conceivable. And although this fragmentation causes the movie to lose the impact that a single feature length story might have had, all the tales, including the connecting story of the illustrated man himself, are bleak, despairing tales that have a cumulative quality. And that's what makes this movie so appealing and unusual. It has depth in directions that aren't often explored anymore and it does it with a simple elegance that you can't achieve with over-saturated special effects. "The Illustrated Man" isn't a masterpiece, or even great, but it is a film that is worth seeing. And in one instance it manages to improve on Bradbury. In his book he creates, then tosses away, the phrase "skin illustrations" with little effect. But a moment of Rod Steiger's rage found only in the movie will have you forever respecting those two words.

The power of a movie is how well it sticks with you. This one I saw at a drive-in back in 1970, and though I only considered it average at the time, one scene stuck with me through the years. The setting in rural depression-era United States helps set the mood of the meeting of a young drifter and a hardened hobo.

Recently I acquired a used VHS tape of it and watched it through, and I remember why it stuck with me so well and so long. Not always well done, but yet it has power. The character Carl, well portrayed by the acting of Rod Steiger, starts to tell stories, and they take the young Willie, portrayed by Robert Drivas, on a wild mental ride that changes both their lives. I recommend it highly, and hope one day it will be out on DVD.

OK, too wild..I was about 7 when I saw this movie in the UK. I have thought over the years it was just an odd dream I had but there it was, on t.v. late one night. Totally freaked me out. Steiger is a major under rated actor to this generation. (umm it was 30 years ago I first saw the movie. You do the math) No wonder I thought it was a dream...a veratiable kalidascope of images. the kids with the lion. That house. It is well worth watching if only to see why you shouldn't do drugs. The 60's LSD influence is very strong here i think. All these years I was fascinated by tattoos and now I know why. Its the sort of film you never forget but cant clearly recall. There's no telling what it did to my subconscious.

'The Illustrated Man' shows how good a writer Ray Bradbury was, not to mention how his head was full of fascinating ideas. It shows this because the film is incredibly dated today, from the acting styles to the visions of the future we witness. And yet I remained engrossed throughout, because beneath the anachronisms and barmy notions lie the same powerful film that resonated with me as a child.

A lot of the film has little to do with the title character, although Rod Steiger's menacing performance will never let you forget the man with all-over body tattoos that come to life if you stare too hard. Also, Steiger himself has multiple roles throughout, and he delivers them with a mix of the theatrical bellow and long-faced stoicism of the period, but they still have their impact. Meanwhile of greater interest are the short stories each tattoo reveals. Like Bradbury's 'The Martian Chronicles', this film is a collection of tales woven around a central premise. We view his fears about where human society is heading, thanks to the all-pervading intrusion of technology into our lives.

I'm reminded of a Poe line - "without music or an intriguing idea, colour becomes pallor, man becomes carcass, home becomes catacomb, and the dead are but for a moment motionless". What becomes of the human soul when the machines take over? Add the all-embracing pallor and single-chrome fashion of a typical 1960s vision of the future, and you have a very bleak picture indeed. Yet that's how people saw things then (our guesses on things to come will look just as ridiculous soon enough), and the central theme, given how far we've progressed technologically in the interim, cannot be any less relevant. I'm glad our modern perspective yearns for more colour though - never mind technology killing our souls - the achromatic architecture would make anyone suicidal enough already.

Sojourns into futurity do of course suggest sci-fi trappings. Even putting aside the fact that predictions of the future quickly become dated, Ray Bradbury was never scientifically accurate at the time he wrote his stories. In 'The Martian Chronicles' for example, it is possible to breathe on Mars, water flows through canals, and a few blasts from a rocket's engines can terraform the atmosphere. 'The Illustrated Man' takes the same liberties with reality. Yet to dismiss it because of nonsensical scientific premises is to miss the point. The settings are not more than fabulous window dressing - fantasy masquerading as sci-fi. It is the exploration of the human condition in each tale that Bradbury is concerned with, and they are timeless.

As such, while time has not been entirely kind to this screen adaption of 'The Illustrated Man', its emotional core remains intact. The Bradbury flair for the weird and the wonderful is untarnished, and his thoughts still clear. You just need to take a good long look at a rainbow afterwards.