Dystopia: noun —
an imaginary place or society in which everything is bad.
Compact Oxford English Dictionary (2003)
Introduction
When Sir Thomas
Moore published his magnum opus Utopia
in 1516, the concept of creating a perfect society has compelled countless
individuals to ease the plight of our common existence by striving for an ideal
of a harmonious balance between our physical and spiritual needs. From Jesus
Christ to Karl Marx, as Tantalus was forever tempted in the pit of Tartarus,
the utopia has long been the tantalizing fruit forever hanging just outside our
reach.
To a greater
degree, the concept of the dystopia fascinates us even more than the utopia,
and it is no wonder. After all, humanity is so much more adept at creating the
imperfect and inflicting it upon others.
The American and
French Revolutions were both attempts to create a political utopia, yet both
were marred; the Americans retained slavery in their new egalitarian paradise
and the French Revolution soon descended into tyranny and oppression.
The European
Revolutions of 1848 were an uncoordinated, but passionate expression of the
desire for a restructuring of the political order on more equal terms between
the rulers and the ruled. It is no surprise then to find that Karl Marx
published The Communist Manifesto in
February of the same year. Nevertheless, the chaos and death that followed in
the wake of those struggles resulted in little measurable gain for the common
person. The road to hell, as the saying goes, is paved with good intentions.
In an abstract
way, the American Civil War can be viewed as yet another struggle in humanity’s
stretching towards utopia. Slavery was a curse on the American utopian promise
that “All men are created equal,” so the war was akin to kicking the devil out
of paradise. The American model, however, was once again subverted by the
nation’s complete elimination of the sovereignty of the Native American nations
following the Civil War. The devil, it seems, is quite at home in paradise, or
at least in a split-level ranch house on the American plains.
The most ardent
political expression of man’s reach for utopia came with the Russian Revolution
of 1917 and the establishment of the Soviet Union in 1922. Though now regarded
as failed experiment, for much of the 20th century the former U.S.S.R. was seen
as a dystopic success, threatening the freedoms of individuals and nations
alike. The long shadow of the Soviet dystopia has cast its influence on such
films as Metropolis, A Clockwork Orange, THX
1138, Logan’s Run, 1984, Brave New World, and Brazil, to name just a few.
Why
Sci-Fi?
The genre of
science fiction film provides the perfect medium to explore the concept of the
dystopia. The film versions of the original written works often vary, and while
some may decry any detour from the printed page, the needs of the visual medium
often connect the audience with the current cultural zeitgeist, the spirit of
the times, in more ways than a novel, which is often rooted in the singular
vision of the author. Because film is a collaborative effort, the end result
can be more expressive of the anxieties and hopes of a particular generation.
The dystopia
also found a home in science fiction film because topics that were otherwise
avoided in film and TV in the early to mid-20th century, such as racism,
classism, war, capitalism, and socialism, could be slipped into science fiction
without drawing the attention of the censors.
Metropolis
Metropolis, director Fritz Lang’s 1927
visionary silent film, presents a very European view of dystopia in the wake of
the World War I. Those who run the city— the aristocracy — inhabit the airy
heights of the great city, enjoying every advantage of technology and
recreation that the leisure class provides its members. Indeed, in many
respects, the city, at least above ground, is very much a post-modern utopia.
In the film,
there is a gap between rich and poor that is wide and dangerous. The riches of the city are built upon the
backs of the great masses of workers who plod like automatons to their jobs,
which consist of mind-numbing repetitive tasks. The workers slave away
maintaining the great M-Machine, which powers the city.
Despite the
great advances of the future, the conflict within Metropolis is ancient and timeless. Freder, the son of the city
manager Joh Fredersen, lives in the city’s tallest skyscraper, referred to as
the New Tower of Babel, but is drawn into the underground dystopia when he sees
Maria, a young schoolteacher, and falls in love. Following her below ground,
Freder is exposed to the ugly underbelly of the great city for the first time.
There, he sees the M-Machine, which explodes, killing many workers. Freder
interprets this as an analogue to a human sacrifice to the ancient god Moloch,
who demanded the sacrifice of children (“Moloch”).
While man’s tools
have advanced, spiritually, we are still stunted — sacrificing ourselves to
appease the gods we create with our own hands.
Fredersen and
the scientist Rotwang follow Freder underground, each for reasons of their own,
and hear Maria give a lesson to her students about the ancient Tower of Babel.
The connection between the ancient and the new Tower of Babel is not lost on
Fredersen, who fears a revolt. The implication of Maria’s lesson is that that
the great city, like the Tower of Babel of old, was constructed in an attempt
reach God, or at least emulate divinity, and in doing so may share the same
fate. Combined with the symbolism of the death of the workers in a sacrifice to
the great technological Moloch, the future represented by Metropolis is linked
with our ancient past, creating a mirror image that compels us to ask how far
we really have come.
One single image
that stands out in the film Metropolis
is that of the robot, the machine-man, who is transformed into a doppelganger
of Maria by Rotwang. Fredersen wants the machine-man, disguised as Maria, to
act as an agent-provocateur against the workers, who are uniting against him.
Rotwang, however, bearing an old grudge against Fredersen, also sets the
machine-man/Maria loose against the upper classes, seducing the sons of the
rich in one scene where, overcome by their passion and jealousy, they kill each
other. Then, the machine-man/Maria ferments revolt among the workers, an act
which nearly results in the death of their children. Rotwang seeks to destroy
the great city by killing its future, the children of Metropolis.
The machine-man
is unthinking, doing only what it has been programmed to do. If technology
turns on us, it is only because we have given it the power to do so. That is
the great truth behind Metropolis.
Metropolis (1927) from the Aeolus 13 Umbra YouTube channel.
Things
to Come
H.G. Wells’
science fiction classic, Things to Come,
directed by William Cameron Menzies, debuted in 1936, just prior to World War
II. Indeed, the film starts off in the then not-too-distant future of 1940,
with Europe on the eve of war (in real life, the war began in 1939). A
decades-long war devastates the world and plunges the world into a dark age. The
sick are rounded up and killed. Valuable sources of fuel become the focus of a
new government/civilization dubbed “Wings Over the World,” whose capital is in
Basra, Iraq. Iraq, known until 1932 as the British Mandate of Mesopotamia, is
not only a source of oil, but also the very beginnings of human civilization
thousands of years ago, so its significance has a double meaning.
In their
underground cities, Wings Over the World brings peace and technological
advances to humanity, but at a breakneck speed. The masses react, much as they
do in Metropolis, violently, and in
protest against the great Moloch, technology. Indeed, as with the M-Machine in Metropolis, the masses in Things to Come see themselves as being
sacrificed on the altar of progress. Despite the longer life spans, and lives
of leisure, technology has not brought them happiness. Nevertheless, progress
is a force of nature; one can no more stop it than one can stop the world from
spinning. The stakes are high; as we strive towards utopia — towards “happiness”
— every step closer also brings us one step nearer to dystopia.
The apex of
technology in the movie is reached in the year 2036 with the launch of the
first spaceship to the moon. Those opposed to progress see the spaceship as a
symbol of everything about the pace of technology they despise and seek to slow
things down by sabotaging the launch. Their plans, however, are thwarted by the
head of the government, Cabal, who launches the spaceship before it can be
destroyed, thus assuring humanity’s continuing push towards the future.
Cabal ends the
movie, justifying his decision, saying, “And if we’re no more than animals, we
must snatch each little scrap of happiness, and live, and suffer, and pass,
mattering no more than all the other animals do or have done. It is this, or
that. All the universe or nothing . . . Which shall it be?”
It is a question
we still ask ourselves today.
Things to Come (1936), from the Aeolus 13 Umbra YouTube Channel.
Buck
Rogers
Buck Rogers has his origins in Armageddon 2419 A.D., by Philip Francis
Nowlan, which first appeared in the August 1928 issue of the pulp magazine Amazing Stories; however, it is the 1939
Universal movie serial that brought him lasting fame. It is noteworthy because
the post-apocalyptic dystopia it presents is ruled by a criminal syndicate,
reflecting the public’s fears in the wake of the violent rise of urban street
gangs after World War I.
Buck’s value to
the future is that he is a man from the past. In Things to Come, the people feared progress because it further
removed them from the past, while the character Buck Rogers comes from the past
to save the future. Buck, however, does not reject technology; instead, he uses
it to his advantage. Buck Rogers suggests it is not technology that destroys
humanity, but rather humanity itself. Only humanity can destroy itself, and
only humanity can save itself by keeping in touch with the values of the past.
Essentially, a very conservative viewpoint, but as the world stood on the brink
of the atomic age and global war in 1939 it would do well to remember the lessons
of Buck Rogers in the 25th century.
Into
the 1970s and Beyond . . .
The films THX 1138 (1971), Logan’s Run (1976), and Brave
New World (1980 TV production), all express the era’s growing concerns
about population growth, drug use, and free love. Monogamous sexual
relationships between individuals are frowned upon, if not outright banned, in
the aforementioned dystopias. In Logan's
Run, people have numbers for last names, removing
signs of allegiance to any, but the state. For more
information on Logan's Run, please
visit the Aeolus 13 Umbra article Beyond the Dome: A Critical Analysis
of Logan’s Run.
In THX 1138, individuals are further
reduced to letter/number designations, as in the title character's name; sexual
relationships are criminal (unlike Logan's
Run and Brave New World),
libido-suppressing drugs are mandatory, and the consumption of material goods
almost a religion, as evident in the film’s mantra, “Buy more. Buy more now.
Buy, and be happy.”
Trailer to THX-1138, from the Aeolus 13 Umbra YouTube Channel.
This type of
hyper-consumerism is also a key feature in Brave
New World, where we encounter the phrase “spending is better than mending” —
state propaganda supporting a command economy. One wonders, does Madison Avenue
do any different?
Another common
element in these films is that human beings are artificially conceived as a
means of population control, not only in numbers, but on the individual level
as well. Perfectly designed societies with perfectly designed people, but for
what purpose other than to support the state? Why are we here? What is our
purpose in life? These childlike questions haunt the protagonists.
The fear
inherent in these films is that as technology improves our lives, we will lose
our individuality. We will commit ourselves to serve the state and its aims in
exchange for services that cater to our most primal instincts.
The Lathe of Heaven, the 1980 TV film
based on the 1971 novel by Ursula Le Guin, also features a technologically
advanced, dystopian future where the world struggles with overpopulation,
pollution, poverty, drug abuse, insufficient food supplies, plague, and war in
the Middle East. The protagonist, George Orr, has the ability to dream changes
to reality — essentially, to create new “utopias.” Whatever he dreams, becomes
reality. It’s a power George doesn’t want, but under the guide of the ambitious
psychiatrist, Dr. Haber, it is put to use in creating various utopias as the doctor
tries to create the perfect world.
Utopia, however,
has a dark side. Every utopia Dr. Haber has George dream up has problem. George
dreams of a solution to overpopulation with a plague that kills billions. World
unity is achieved, but only after George conjures up the classic alien
invasion. Racism is solved by turning everyone's skin color the same — gray. Our
highest aspirations as a species are thwarted by our very own natures, our
dreams fall victim to our nightmares, and our paradises have serpents in the
garden (for more discussion about this film, please visit my other essay, Aeolus13 Umbra: The Lathe of Heaven: The Film That Sci-Fi (Almost) Forgot).
The Lathe of Heaven (1980), from the Aeolus 13 Umbra YouTube Channel.
1984
and Brazil
1984, George Orwell’s definitive novel
of the dystopia, was first filmed in 1956, directed by Michael Anderson and
starring Edmund O’Brian and Michael Redgrave. The novel is a depressing read,
to say the least, and the movie’s film noir approach brings out the bleakness
that is pervasive in the book. Orwell gives us only a limited view into the
dystopic world of Winston Smith as, in the film, all the information about his
world is passed to us through Oceania’s official propaganda and Smith’s own
tortured mind.
1984 (1956 film version), from the Aeolus 13 Umbra YouTube channel.
The 1984 remake
of the film, directed by Michael Radford and starring John Hurt and Richard
Burton, was filmed over the same period of time as many of the events in the
novel, April to June 1984. What we learn in 1984
is not the actual mechanism of a dystopian state, but rather the effects of a
totalitarian, faceless, political system on the human spirit. We never meet Big
Brother for he may not even exist. Indeed, Oceania may have no single leader.
The fear and oppression that controls the masses originates from the masses
themselves. Big Brother does not oppress us; instead it is the collective
effort of individuals reduced to the most primal states of self-preservation in
a technologically advanced society.
Brazil, Terry Gilliam’s 1985 film, takes
much of the basic premise of 1984 and injects a combination of satire, parody,
and farce into the genre. Gilliam explores the pervasiveness of political
totalitarianism in a world where people’s lives are consumed with pointless
bureaucracy, as evident in the protagonist Sam Lowery’s ongoing struggle to get
the air conditioning in his flat fixed.
Sam’s epiphany that one can fight an oppressive regime comes through the
heroics of Archibald Harry Tuttle, air conditioning repairman, whose technical
skill, combined with his inside knowledge on how to take shortcuts through the
bureaucracy, makes him the bane of civil servants everywhere.
It is literally
a “fly in the ointment” that is the catalyst in Brazil. A fly caught in machinery at the Ministry of Information
causes a computer system error which results in the death of an innocent man,
Archibald Harry Buttle, who is mistaken for Archibald Harry Tuttle, who the
state regards as a terrorist. Because no one is responsible for the error, no one
takes responsibility to rectify it. Dystopia in Brazil is not the result of epic political oppression, but rather
of common, everyday banality. The devil in this dystopia is literally in the
details.
Unlike 1984, the totalitarian government of Brazil has no Big Brother and ultimately
that is the sad truth behind those films. We have no need for the iron fist of
a brutal dictator to lead us into hell when our basic instincts take us there
willingly.
Does
Not Compute
The political
nature of dystopia is essentially conservative. Whether it is the Spartan
socialist existence in 1984, or the drug-fueled hedonism of Logan’s Run and Brave New World, these societies refuse progress and change. As
they believe they have reached the pinnacle of civilization, the possibility of
change threatens the validity of their existence.
There is an
assumption with the 20th century science-fiction dystopia that technology will
be the tool which enslaves us, accessed by a select few, and controlling many.
In Rollerball (1975), where the
dystopia is run by corporations, computers are available only to the elite, and
only with special permission. Rather than making texts available directly, they
are instead only summarized and made available via computer at a central
library; however, the digitalization of all books can lead to accidents like
losing an entire century worth of information.
Computers are in
control in THX 1138, Logan’s Run, and Brave New World, but not used at the
individual level as they are today.
In Fahrenheit 451, the 1966 film based on
the Ray Bradbury novel, computers must certainly be used at the state-level,
but as books are banned what purpose could personal computers possibly serve
except to undermine the state? In the film, we see banal entertainment programs
layered with values clarification questions directed at individual viewers,
whose responses are evaluated for any deviant tendencies. Computer
sophistication must be very high in the world of Fahrenheit 451, but at the personal level, the individual has no
control over such devices, rather they control you.
It is here, in
the use of the personal computer, that our cinematic prognosticators of the
dystopia in 20th century science fiction film underestimated both human
invention and the human spirit.
Rollerball (1975) trailer, from the Aeolus 13 Umbra YouTube Channel.
Yes, on one hand,
these dystopias do accurately foretell many aspects of the human preoccupation
with material consumption, our tendency towards overpopulation, polluting our
environment, and ignoring the consequences. We create massive bureaucratic
systems responsible for literally almost everything in our society, but for
which no one is personally responsible, since no one person runs it. This
creates a distance between the acts of the state and the culpability of those
who carry out its directives. It allows us to be complicit in the crimes of the
dystopia without bearing any personal responsibility.
Humanity,
however, is anything but predictable. The personal computer, the Internet, and
cell phone provided the communications infrastructure for the Arab Spring and
the Wall Street protests of 2011. Today, we can access music, film, books, and
magazines, at a level that would have been cost-prohibitive just a generation
ago. The fear of the 20th century dystopia that computers will somehow enslave
us, both has and has not come true. Certainly, they are integrated into almost
every aspect of our lives, but they also empower and enrich individuals on a
personal level that could not have been foreseen.
When computers
were large and expensive — and in the hands of the state — their applications in
war and mass control were preordained. Ironically, it was the economic free
market and individuals like Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, among many others, who
made computers affordable and accessible to the everyday person. Rather than
being only a means of control, the computer has also become a means of personal
empowerment, and these two forces are forever linked.
The Soviet
experiment failed and an unexpected wave of independence swept through Eastern
Europe, but with dire economic results. Chinese communism is swiftly taking on
a capitalist flavor, but political repression remains strong. Long-time
authoritarian regimes in the Middle East have been toppled by spontaneous
popular revolts organized by iPhone, even as the long arm of ultra-orthodox
religious extremism maintains a firm hold.
Despite our
better efforts, we will forever be caught in that shadowy world between utopia
and dystopia, as the very act of drawing closer to one repels us towards the
other.
Works
Cited
“Dystopia.” The
Oxford Compact English Dictionary, Second
Edition,
Revised. Oxford, New York: Oxford UP, 2003. Print.
1984. Dir.
Michael Anderson. Perf. Edmond O’Brien, Michael
Redgrave, and Jan Sterling.
Columbia Pictures. 1956. Film.
1984. Dir. Michael Radford.
Perf. John Hurt, Richard Burton, and
Suzanna Hamilton. Atlantic Releasing 20th Century Fox. 1984.
Film.
Brave New World. Dir. Burt
Brinckerhoff. Perf. Julie Cobb, Bud Kort,
and Keir Dullea. 1980. Television.
Brazil. Dir. Terry Gilliam.
Perf. Jonathan Tryce, Robert De Niro, and
Katherine Helmond. Universal Studios (US). 1985. Film.
Buck Rogers. Dir.
Ford Beebe and Saul A Goodkind. Perf. Buster
Crabbe, Constance Moore, and
Jackie Moran. Universal
Pictures. 1939.
Film (serial).
Fahrenheit 451.
Dir. François Truffaut. Perf. Julie Christie, Oskar
Werner, and Cyril Cusack.
Universal Pictures. 1966. Film.
Logan’s Run. Dir. Michael
Anderson. Perf. Michael York, Richard
Jordan, and Jenny Agutter. United Artists. 1976. Film.
Metropolis.
Dir. Fritz Lang. Perf. Bridgette Helm, Alfred Abel, and
Gustav Fröhlich.
UFA. 1927. Film.
“Moloch.” The
Oxford Compact English Dictionary, Second
Edition,
Revised. Oxford, New York: Oxford UP, 2003. Print.
Rollerball. Dir. Norman
Jewison. Perf. James Caan, John Houseman,
and Maud Adams. United Artists. 1975. Film.
The Lathe of Heaven. Dir. David
Loxton and Fred Barzyk. Perf. Bruce
Davidson, Kevin Conway, and Margaret Avery.
1980. DVD.
Things to Come. Dir. William
Cameron Menzies. Perf. Raymond
Massey, Ralph Richarson, and Cedric Hardwicke. United
Artists. 1936. Film.
THX 1138.
Dir. George Lucas. Perf. Robert Duvall, Donald Pleasence,
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