Is It ‘Real’ or Is It ‘Reel’?
Science fiction and horror happen to be two of my favorite movie genres, among the many varieties that are out there. Although most people — film critics primarily — tend to separate these two categories, there has always existed an interrelation and a correlation between these vast subjects.
But a problem exists in that one’s ability to use science fiction and horror in the classroom, in particular for a course based on history, American or otherwise, can be hampered by the intrinsic nature of both genres.
Personally speaking, I prefer not to separate them. In most technological respects, the science fiction film (shortened to sci-fi) occupies a category all by itself. Be that as it may, because most sci-fi and horror flicks deal with monsters or aliens of one form or another — either real or imagined — every so often the two genres are lumped together and treated interchangeably as a single unit. More specifically, there’s also the historicity aspect of sci-fi, that is an ever-developing set of parameters that has come down to us through past events.
It’s hard to say whether this end result is good or bad, or even viable as a means of cinematic representation. Basically, we will leave that up to the individual viewer to interpret. Or better yet, to the presenter.
Take, for example, the movies Jurassic Park (1993) and the Alien series. True, there be monsters here! But if we were to base our assumptions on director Sir Ridley Scott’s prequel forays into the Alien’s origins (Prometheus, 2012; Alien: Covenant, 2017), one can readily spot the scientific connections inherent in Alien pictures with those of the Jurassic Park-themed sequels of today (vis-à-vis “Dino DNA” and such). In view of this apparent affiliation, our inclination is to leave well enough alone and keep science fiction as it is, together with horror.
In the interest of specificity, true science fiction, as opposed to horror or fantasy films, can instruct as well as entertain. An official designation, straight out of The Film Studies Dictionary, defines how “science fiction works by extrapolation, hypothesizing possibilities based on the known laws of nature and science, whether in the near — tomorrow — or distant future or on other worlds” (p. 205).
Horror, on the other hand, typically entertains. Our Film Studies Dictionary correctly calls it a “film focusing on the supernatural, the mysterious or on graphic violence, aiming to frighten or horrify its audience” (p. 124). That’s an interesting term, “horrify,” where the subject under discussion is horror itself. One never thinks of horror as entertaining to any degree but believe you me it is!
Keep in mind, too, that horror’s main purpose is to scare the bejeezus out of viewers. Now THAT’S entertaining! It should also but often does not make audiences think long and hard about what is happening on screen and before our eyes. Ken Russell’s Altered States, from 1980, is a prime example of the thinking person’s horror flick doubling as sci-fi (and vice versa). In many instances, pondering over specific details as to whether a film fits comfortably or not into one category or another — or whether it’s this side of H.P. Lovecraft or Stephen King — can lead to confusion and markedly less clarity over time.
There are other examples of subgenres within each group and type. To cite but a few, the following sci-fi subgenres contain (but are not limited to) aliens and alien invasion pictures, or so-called UFO sightings; space travel epics (that is, visits to or from other planets); galaxy wars; the mad or evil scientist; the good-bad robot dichotomy; man vs. machine; computer sentience and the resultant evil associated with it; the messiah complex or “the savior among us” syndrome, as in Nicholas Roeg’s The Man Who Fell to Earth (1976), and so forth.
Indeed, there are so many subgenres, themes, variations, plots, and counterplots to distract and inform curious viewers that it can become problematic in successfully categorizing each film or subject by a specific genre. Best to leave things as open-ended and as they are.
Even films that are not strictly horror-based, such as David Fincher’s crime drama/police procedural Se7en (1995), contain many horrific elements affixed to them; others boast of strictly film noir tendencies. Certainly, the 1950s sci-fi classics bore close relationships to, and outgrowths of, the film noir aspects that prevailed throughout the post-World War II period.
This type of subgenre evolved from, and was likely due to, the advent of McCarthyism and the ensuing House Un-American Activities Committee (or H.U.A.A.C.) hearings, along with the concurrent Red Scare menace. “Red Scare” or “Red menace,” in this context, meant concern over alleged Communist infiltration of the U.S. government and/or the military, reinterpreted in numerous film productions of the period as fear of a Martian invasion of Earth. Major examples include The Thing from Another World (1951), The Man from Planet X (1951), Red Planet Mars (1952), The War of the Worlds (1953), and, more subtly, Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), and The Manchurian Candidate (1962).
An outgrowth of this theme were those Atomic Age pictures, the so-called “Bug-Eyed Monster” movies of an era where the emphasis went from fear of nuclear annihilation to experiments gone horribly wrong, thinly if not overtly hinted at in The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953), It Came from Outer Space (1953), Gojira, aka Godzilla (1954/1956), Them! (1954), It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955), Tarantula! (1955), The Deadly Mantis (1957), and The Giant Behemoth (1959).
To be fair, the original Gojira from Japan’s Toho Studios was the first of what went on to become known as Kaiju Eiga, or the Japanese monster movie. All were byproducts of the history-making bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki which ended World War II. Subsequent follow-up pictures featured the likes of Rodan (1956), a giant pterodactyl, and Mothra (1961), an equally fantastic giant moth (played mostly for laughs). The Godzilla franchise continued to blanket the market; they were subsequently packaged and sold as kiddy matinee pictures.
Fantasy films are but one more in the long line of offshoots. According to most reliable sources, a fantasy film “posits some violation of the real world in its narrative, whether imaginary creatures, the alteration of natural laws, alternate worlds, or the existence of superheroes” (The Film Studies Dictionary, p. 91). Among the innumerable varieties in this category are those Marvel and DC Comics spinoffs, to include the many Thors and Lokis and Batman retreads, as well as the majority of movies (The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, and The Chronicles of Narnia) over-reliant on the ubiquitous J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis series of books.
In general, good science fiction, as opposed to the bad kind (though not always), tries to ask and, hopefully, answer the hard questions: “Will we be better off in the future? What does the future hold for us humans that will make our lives (or the world itself) a better place? Will our Earth be a more meaningful, more habitable planet? Or will the world be in worse condition than it is now?”
In effect, science fiction is tantamount to predicting the future, phrased here as the unknowable. And you know how difficult, how dangerous, and how inaccurate one can be about predicting what hasn’t yet occurred! In most cases, it can be a hit or miss affair. Many people thought the world would come to an end back in the late 1990s. Some even asked themselves, “Hey, what happened? Why did those predictions not come to pass?” How’s that again? A better response to that query should have been: “Why would we want them to be true in the first place?” Be thankful for small favors!
Sure enough, the sun rose as it always does; and the world continued on its merry course as it has always done — for better or for worse. Putting it plainly, it was business as usual for most people on terra firma. Why should it be different for anyone else?
This dissatisfaction with the way things are, amid prospects or expectations for how things can or should be (but really can’t be), often reveal themselves as fodder for another science fiction-type subgenre, i.e., the increasingly popular dystopian future drama. As an extension of our shared experiences, an ancillary aspect can manifest itself in speculative fiction, which some writers prefer to employ in describing their overall work in this area.
What the future may hold for humans as a species and whether or not we give in to our basest instincts can be sampled and observed in such cinematic depictions as Robert Wise’s The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) and its underestimated 2008 remake, Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Jack Arnold and Joseph Newman’s This Island Earth (1955), Frank McLeod Wilcox’s Forbidden Planet (1956), Ridely Scott’s Blade Runner (1982), Michael Radford’s 1984 (1984), Terry Gilliam’s Brazil (1985), and Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek TV-series (1966-1969).
In the area of speculative fiction, the likes of Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men (2005), from English writer P.D. James’ 1992 publication, or the equally chilling Hulu TV series The Handmaid’s Tale (from 2017 to current), based on Canadian author Margaret Atwood’s 1985 book, have blurred the lines of what one normally identifies as pure, unadulterated science fiction. As the decades roll by, we are trending ever closer to the world depicted in both these titles.
As you can see, science fiction and, yes, horror, fantasy, dystopian and speculative fiction films share living space in many peoples’ households. They will always be welcome, for the reason they have a tendency to guide and provide curious minds with some basic life lessons. Whether we, as a species, can learn from these lessons remains to be seen.
And while they may not be, strictly speaking, “historical” in nature, they remain viable and enjoyable as pure entertainment. Our hope, then, is that science itself and the findings inherent in the promise of a better future in the years ahead can satiate our curiosity about the world around us. More importantly, the message we can derive from watching these features would be their ability to foster renewed interest in and about the future as well as, in the wise words of Professor Henry Jones Sr., provide us with some “illumination.”
And THAT’S a fact!
Copyright © 2022 by Josmar F. Lopes
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