Things to Come (1936)

If we can ignore the improbable and distractingly humorous space helmet of a visiting traveler, the relevance of this film’s messages can be highlighted. Based on H.G. Wells’ 1933 sci-fi story, The Shape of Things to Come, the film begins with the Second World War as predicted by the story. The human race practically destroys itself as the war rages on for decades, bringing with it various weapon technology and plagues. In the wake of the destruction, humans begin to rebuild that shattered civilizations of years past.

The humans are, in essence, starting over yet with prior knowledge of the way thing were before. The scientists do not have to invent technology, just re-imagine and rebuild it. They are soon visited by a group of earthlings whose progress is much farther along than theirs. The visitors, almost ironically, demand that the dictatorial leader step down and the democratic process rule the land. As the stories propels into what is still the future, advanced and monstrous mechanical advancements speckle the landscape. The set designers certainly put their 240,000 pounds to use in creating a giant gun that shoots its occupants into space. The sequence is rendered nostalgically pleasing as hundreds of tiny figures storm the machine.

The brunt of this movie’s enduring status can certainly be attributed to Wells’ original story, its handful of accurate predications, and its concern about the fate of human civilization. In the end, the remaining characters question their being, their pursuit of a reason, and their place in the cosmic order. And undoubtedly, like so many countless endeavors for an answer, the film does not provide one. We do get a healthy dose of questions yet receive the benefit of the doubt in not being preached to.

Diegetically, Wells’ story encompasses much time and change. Yet its content willextend beyond the end of the narrative and even past the years examined in the film. The search for an answer has not stopped since the recorded years of human history and makes no hint at doing so any time soon. We can never be sure just what the shape of things to come will be.

Life Without Film

Imagine, if you will, for a fleeting and hesitant moment, that films as we know them never came into existence. Suppose that the pioneers that experimented in the earlier days of cinematic exploration had stopped, or never even started. What if, by chance, the Lumiere Brothers, Edison, and Augustin failed to come up with any motion capturing devices? What if the Phenakistoscope, the Zoetrope, the Cinématographe, or even the Electrical Tachyscope had never come to be? Where would that put us now? How would the human race have been affected by the absence of technology that, by today’s standards, is strictly archaic? Compared to the complexity and ability of today’s emerging technology the magic lantern is but a paper airplane. Yet regardless of current technology’s distancing from its predecessors, humans have relied on its presence in every form.

Our world is a visual onslaught from every direction, so much so that we often shut it out, not realizing all that we have experienced. At the same time, though, we intentionally seek out certain forms of stimulation. We want the experiences we are offered. We have come to expect their presence. We are accustomed to what they offer, what they can tell us, and what they can show us. Yet only rarely do we think about their saturation into who we are and how we operate. Only rarely do we realize that because of them we have unprecedented access to years passed. Our forefathers had less opportunity than we do, much the same as our followers who will know more about our selves than we do. Films are transcribing our history, or rather, we are transcribing our history into visually printed form, a record for the future.

So what would become of us without this ability? Would the written word, perhaps the artistic rendition, maybe even the photographic process should I wish to give ample freedom from the above scenario, be enough to capture the existence of our civilization? And with that thought, will the power of film, the recorded image, even be enough? Once we blow the planet to kingdom come, will the DVD’s that goes screaming through space be valid proof of our existence? Hardly.

Film is but one step that satisfies us for the time. Writing did it, painting did it, and photography did it. Film is doing it but even that is beginning to wane. We can no longer trust what we see, nor can we see all that we trust. We know that as long as we live on this planet that gravity will hold us to it. We do not, however, know that future generations will be privy to our actuality. Proof of our being does not last forever; VHS is a prime example. But we do know, whether consciously or not, that for the time being film is more than satisfactory. For the time being, film is a form of immortality. And that should we live in a world without film, we would likely be very, very lost. At least I would.

Imminent Death.

Regardless of the fact that he states it himself in the voiceover narration not five minutes into the film, we know Lester Burnham will die. So the only reason we hang on is to find out who kills him. It is not, as could perhaps be expected from the sedated lifestyle he occupies, himself. It is not his cheating wife who discovers the release of firing a gun and drives home with it placed conveniently by her side. And it is not his daughter who, in the opening frames, looks into the camera and asks for his death. As a matter of fact, it is his closet-homosexual ex-military neighbor who believes Lester to be having an affair with his drug-dealing son. Lester’s death is imminent. But it is not, as is readily suggested, the moment when his brains splatter over his white kitchen walls.

Lester died an indefinite amount of time earlier. We meet him as he stumbles, in job, marriage, and life. But more importantly, we also meet him when our shared ideologies stumble. The perfect American Family with a projected image of prosperity, success, and happiness is an empty promise. The idea that one man can build his life, be master of his own success, and age into happiness is shattered. Lester had quite likely done so. And so what? Years later this very lifestyle of materialism and consumption and working to provide had its hold on him and would not let go. He tried to escape it by reverting to the mentality of his youth. He tried to challenge expectations by working down the occupational ladder from writer to burger-flipper. He also tried to satisfy himself by pursuing the attention of his daughter’s best “friend.”

American Beauty is an unnerving film even if its effect is not immediately noticeable. It is a film that has the ability, and in a way the responsibility, to challenge our accepted beliefs. So many films re-iterate the same ideals of success and the importance of image and the infatuation and inability to cope without commodities and possessions. We can only really grow if we know what we are growing from and without films that point this out to us how are we to know?

Camera Obscura

The nature of the cinema has changed. And while some would argue for the better and some for the worse, the fact of the matter is that the primal ingredient is near void, at least in its creation.

While the current state of film is vastly commercial, its founding footsteps were strictly scientific. Experiments with the camera obscura played with darkness, and of course with light. And for the majority of its life, the motion picture industry has survived because of it. The chemical celluloid process cannot exist without exposure, and the money spent to pump electricity to lights was spent with the assumption that it would be returned in profit. Today, some of the most wildly popular films exist without casting light onto paper. Are they movies? Sure. Are they films? Not technically, unless they are projected non-digitally.

For many, myself included, this is an alarming state in which to find ourselves. Video cameras are nearing the look and versatility of film, albeit they still have a ways to go. However, there shouldn't be much doubt that the day will come when the inexpensive, pro-sumer camera can out power the machines used by professionals for years. Some would certainly argue they already do.

But they miss the point. Video in its own right is a separate scientific area not to be confused with nor overshadow that of film. The medium that needs light to live, much like the plants and animals that inhabit our planet. I built a camera obscura, something I have not done since high school physics class. It was one of the most cathartic and truly amazing things I have done in a while. What differs between this and film is permanency.

The moving images I viewed in the darkness resembled the static observations found in countless films of past and present. They were alive and upside-down. They were also the beginning steps of the superior form of capturing life, of holding its image for the ages. But they only last for the split seconds that they happened and subsequently disappeared for all of time. Film lasts a little bit longer.

Upcoming Movies

Sequels: For Better or For Worse
(in mostly chronological order)
(italicized means TBD)
New York, I Love You
Ong Bak 2: The Beginning
Saw VI
Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day
Twilight: New Moon
Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakuel
Iron Man 2
Sex and the City 2
Shrek Forever After
Toy Story 3
Cats and Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore
Hairspray 2
Step Up 3
Resident Evil: Afterlife
Halloween 3D
Tron Legacy
Underworld 4
Spiderman 4
The Hangover 2
Kung Fu Panda: The Kaboom of Doom
Cars 2
Happy Feet 2
Madagascar 3
Rashomon 2010
District 13 Ultimatum (Sequel to D-13)
Beverly Hills Cop 4
XXX: The Return of Xander Cage
Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

Remakes?
Nightmare on Elmstreet
The Karate Kid
Piranha 3D
Footloose
Red Dawn
Poltergeist
Robocop
Aladin (live action Aladdin)
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (Animated non musical)