Today’s
topic
We’ll discuss the
Czechoslovak cult classic SF film Ikarie
XB-1.
Let’s
go over the quiz
1. Ikarie
is the name of: (a) the planet they’re traveling to; (b) the spaceship they’re in; (c) the captain of the spaceship; (d) the
disabled spaceship they find on their journey.
2.
The crew of the ship has no women: true or false.
3.
The disabled ship they find on their journey is from
the USSR: true or false.
4. No one on the
crew dies: true or false.
5.
When they arrive at their planetary destination,
what do they find? Let’s discuss!
Start-of-class
discussion
Guide questions
to the film. Contributions?
1.
What did you like about this film and what didn’t
you—and why?
2.
What later (famous) SF productions might this film
have influenced and how?
3. The
film is obviously meant to be entertaining, but it also has a serious side. How
do you read the message(s) of this film? To what end is SF being put here?
“Ikarie XB-1 is a masterclass in
atmosphere, with lingering corridor shots and symmetrical set designs that no
doubt inspired both Kubrick’s 2001 and
Ridley Scott’s Alien.”
“Ikarie XB-1 is a visual masterpiece that
both demands and deserves to be reevaluated within the canon of science fiction
classics past and present.”
“That
Ikarie XB-1 is as gripping a film as
it is quite an accomplishment, especially when you consider that one of its
major set pieces involves the entire crew falling asleep.”
It
was inspired by a Lem novel called The
Magellanic Cloud (1955). Lem’s novel has basically the same plot, but the
ship is much larger and so is the crew (which is also multiethnic and
gender-diverse), and the ship is sent from a society that is implied to be a
world-wide socialist utopia. Another commonality is the theme of human
idealism.
In
Lem’s novel, however, the ship is called Gea (Gaia). While both ships reach the
new world and initially encounter clouds, the first contact scenarios are very
different. Lem’s book is much more philosophical and critical about human
history on Earth. There are other differences as well.
Other East
Central European SF films at around the same time: First Spaceship on Venus (1959, German and Polish), Storm Planet (1962, Russian), Andromeda Nebula (1967, Russian).
It’s
a Cold War film: it was high-budget and meant to innovatively compete with
Western cinema. At the same time, however, it’s not a propaganda film, which is
somewhat surprising. It’s an optimistic film about the future of humanity that
casts 20th-century humankind in dark terms.
Ikarie
“seems unconcerned with the dangers of the rest of the universe”: no alien
invasions, no atomic monsters.
Another
difference: “Unlike American SF films of the era, which were more often than
not throwaway drive-in fare, these movies were a major undertaking for the
countries that produced them, and were not only intended to be an expression of
national pride, but also a source of it.”
Although
there is some action and suspense, it is much less of a space-adventure tale
than it is a film about human psychology.
The
spaceship has a multinational crew of (mainly) scientists headed to Alpha
Centauri to search for extraterrestrial life. The crew is diverse in terms of
gender (but not race).
The film boasts
special effects that were new for its time.
It’s a blending
of genres: SF, thriller, romance, political drama.
One
reviewer said the film “may well be a cornerstone of the genre, but it also
bridges the gap between the psychological drama and the kitsch space film.”
The
composer is Zdeněk Liška. He is also known for his collaborations with the
acclaimed Czech clay-mation film-maker Jan Švankmajer (if you’re never seen his
1996 Conspirators of Pleasure, you’re
really missing out).
The
music has been described as “creating a suitable and engaging lounge mood at
times, adding to the sense of a new age and new hope.” One reviewer has
written: “The soundtrack is enjoyably creepy with bursts of jolting synth
noises.”
It
has sophisticated costuming and set design: a “stylistically refined fictional
world of a distant future.” The film has often been praised for best spacesuit
designs.
The
cinematographers “create an impressionistic portrait of claustrophobia, full of
ominous shadows, enclosed spaces, and a sense of individual minuteness against
the eternal expanse of space.”
The style of
film has been called “retro-futurism” or “futuristic minimalism.”
But
it’s also a little campy: it features “a glorious dance sequence in which crew
members in horrible meringue-like dresses perform choreographed dance sequences
to somber synths.”
It had a strong influence on SF films that
followed, including: 2001: A Space
Odyssey (1968),
Solaris
(1972),
Star Wars (1977), Alien (1979).
It also influenced TV series like Star Trek (1966) and Lost in Space (1965).
Much
in the film seems familiar to us, but that’s only with the benefit of
hindsight. Many of its themes and tropes became regular parts of films and TV
series afterwards.
The space-opera
segment of the film is the discovery and exploration of a derelict spacecraft.
The
sequence is an obvious critique of the barbarism and selfishness of the
(capitalist) 20th century. At the same time, the criticism is
somewhat softened: one crew member does remind another that the 20th
century also produced some great music and art.
The
name Ikarie comes from the myth of
Icarus. Who knows the myth? What happened to Icarus and why?
On
the one hand, this is a decidedly odd name for a space voyage to another solar
system: “a questionable choice for a craft flying towards a distant sun.” On
the other, however, the Soviets celebrated Icarus in ideological propaganda of
the time, particularly with reference to the space race—which is probably where
the name comes from.
The
most emphasized criticism concerns the cheesiness of the outside shots, which
look like cheap models of spaceships pulled on strings… because they probably
are just that. This creates a jarring juxtaposition with the beauty of interior
scenes.
The
film was distributed in the US by American International Pictures (AIP) in
1964, and AIP was known for revising, editing, and cutting the foreign films
that it distributed. The Americanized name of the film was Voyage to the End of the Universe.
We’ll
watch two trailers: the first is the Czech trailer from the 2016 restored
release and the second is the AIP US trailer. How do these differ?
AIP
also “westernized” the names of the cast and crew: Zdeněk Štepánek > Dennis
Stephens, František Smolík > Francis Smolen, and Jindřich Polák > Jack
Pollack…
(Godzilla
vs The Thing).
Other
changes to the film were more substantial. Almost 12 minutes of footage was
cut. The footage of the visit to the derelict spaceship was cut and altered.
The ship’s destination was changed from the “White Planet” to the “Green
Planet.” Worst of all, the closing scene was recut, which resulted in a
completely different ending.
The
American version cut the last reveal and replaced it with stock video of
Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty, which was a surprise ending: thus the
“Green” Planet that Icarus discovered was, absurdly, Earth. Given this revised
ending, how might we then interpret the voyage?
There’s an irony here given that
the film was based on a novel by Lem and…
…
the story of the film in Czech and then Americanized versions confirms Lem’s
harsh critique of American SF as tending toward unserious space opera.
Text
for end-of-class discussion
Uhlířová, “Voyage
through Space, Time, and Utopian Modernism.” Contributions?
We
have no formal class on Thursday, but our reflection papers are due tomorrow.
If you need more time, take it: do a good job on the paper to submit something
you’re proud of.
Finish
reading Roadside Picnic (by the Strugatsky brothers) and take the Canvas quiz
on it before next Tuesday’s class. We have another guest speaker to lead us in
a discussion of this wonderful novella.
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