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This is science fiction.<\/em><\/p>\n Presenting the list I mentioned earlier in which I highlight a number of worthwhile science-fiction films (also some TV productions) that aren’t the usual Hollywood fare. I’ve spent the past few years watching many of these while searching for more. This isn’t a definitive collection, and it isn’t filled with favourites; I’ve deliberately omitted a number of popular films that would count as such. It’s more a map of my generic tastes, and an answer to a question that isn’t always spoken aloud in discussions I’ve had about SF films but which remains implicit: “Okay, if you dislike all this stuff then what do<\/em> you like?” I tend to like marginal things, hybrids, edge cases, the tangential, the unusual and the experimental. And for the past two decades I’ve increasingly come to value anything that isn’t a Hollywood product. There are two Hollywood productions on this list but neither of them were very successful. Not everything here has been overlooked or neglected but many of the entries have, either because they made a poor showing at the box office or because they have the effrontery to be filmed in languages other than English. Not everything is in the first rank, either, but they’re all worth seeing if you can find them.<\/p>\n Liquid Sky.<\/em><\/p>\n The starting point is around 1960 because prior to this date any marginal or unusual examples of SF cinema are harder to find. A genre has to be somewhat set in its ways before radically different artistic approaches emerge, and pre-1960 there wasn’t much testing of the SF boundaries in the film world. Science-fiction cinema has also tended to lag behind the written word, so even though the literature was growing more sophisticated during the 1950s, films from the same period are mostly filled with monsters, spaceships and mad scientists. By the 1960s enough written science fiction was playing with (or ignoring) genre stereotypes for a “New Wave” to be identified. Some of the films detailed here might be regarded as cinematic equivalents of SF’s New Wave but I’ll leave it to others to argue the finer points of definition. A few of the choices are a result of directors going in unexpected directions, with several selections being one-off genre excursions by people better known for other things. I’ve omitted many films and\/or directors that receive persistent attention, so there’s no David Cronenberg, Nicolas Roeg, Andrei Tarkovsky or John Carpenter; and no Mad Max 2<\/em>, Akira<\/em>, Ghost in the Shell<\/em> or The Prisoner<\/em>. A couple of edge cases are so slight I couldn’t really justify their inclusion so you’ll have to look elsewhere for appraisals of The Unknown Man of Shandigor<\/em> (a spy satire with Alphaville<\/em> influences) and Trouble in Mind<\/em> (more of a neo-noir fantasy). 2010 is the cut-off point. I’ve never been someone who watches all the latest things so it often takes me years to catch up with recent releases.<\/p>\n Avalon.<\/em><\/p>\n I can imagine there might be questions about the availability of some of these films. All I can say is search around. I’ve managed to accumulate half the things on this list on either DVD or blu-ray so they’re not all impossible to find. I did consider posting links but the whole issue of region coding complicates matters. Most of the short films circulate on YouTube, as do a number of the features although these don’t always include subtitles. Have I missed something good? (Don’t say Zardoz<\/em>….) The comments are open.<\/p>\n Invention for Destruction<\/em> (Czechoslovakia, 1958)<\/strong><\/p>\n An evil millionaire named Artigas plans to use a super-explosive device to conquer the world from his headquarters inside an enormous volcano.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n (Previously<\/a>.) It seems fitting to start with a film that adapts a novel by one of the founders of the genre, Jules Verne. Karel Zeman’s third feature extended his technical effects to combine live-action with animation, creating a film in which the engraved illustrations of Verne’s novels are brought to life. With music by Zden\u011bk Li\u0161ka.<\/p>\n La Jet\u00e9e<\/em> (France, 1962)<\/strong><\/p>\n The story of a man forced to explore his memories in the wake of World War III’s devastation, told through still images.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Chris Marker’s haunting short is one of the great time-travel stories, a 25-minute film that JG Ballard often listed as a favourite. Memory was a recurrent theme in Marker’s work, and memories here provide a physical route into the past, with the predicament of the unnamed protagonist concentrated on a single memory from his childhood. Marker’s interests ranged widely but he haunts the margins of science-fiction cinema in France, assisting Walerian Borowczyk with an early animation, Les Astronauts<\/em> (1959), as well as the Pierre Kast entry below.<\/p>\n Alphaville: A Strange Adventure of Lemmy Caution<\/em> (France, 1965)<\/strong><\/p>\n A secret agent is sent to the distant space city of Alphaville where he must find a missing person and free the city from its tyrannical ruler.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Another Ballard favourite, and not a neglected film by any means but the first in our collection of one-off SF excursions by directors better-known for other things. Alphaville<\/em> is also important for being the first film to present itself as science fiction without any of the obvious or expected trappings of the genre. Paris in 1965 is Alphaville because Godard says it is. In part this is the director doing his usual thing of self-consciously adopting a genre; this is “science fiction” in the same way that Breathless<\/em> is “crime”. But the conceptual leap was an important one for cinema, a step that freed film-makers from the need to build expensive sets and dress their cast in silver jump-suits. With Raoul Coutard’s high-contrast photography, Paul Misraki’s noirish score, Eddie Constantine’s bull-in-a-china-shop performance (he makes Ralph Meeker in Kiss Me Deadly<\/em> seem soft-hearted), and the incomparable Anna Karina.<\/p>\n The Heat of a Thousand Suns<\/em> (France, 1965)<\/strong><\/p>\n (Previously<\/a>) A one-off animated short by Pierre Kast with assistance from Chris Marker, drawings by Eduardo Luiz, and an electronic score by Bernard Parmegiani. A young man with his own spaceship solves the problem of faster-than-light travel then heads into the cosmos with his pet cat.<\/p>\n Fahrenheit 451<\/em> (UK, 1966)<\/strong><\/p>\n In an oppressive future, a fireman whose duty is to destroy all books begins to question his task.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Francois Truffaut’s first colour feature has always seemed a little dull despite its incendiary subject matter and the Hitchcockian urgency of Bernard Herrmann’s score. It might have been improved with an actor other than Oskar Werner in the central role but there’s still a lot I like about this one: the music, the shots of the SAFEGE monorail, Nicolas Roeg’s striking photography, and Julie Christie in a double role. There’s also some amusement for Brits in seeing a Frenchman presenting ticky-tacky English suburbia as a soulless dystopia. With spoken titles, flat-screen TVs in every home (it’ll never happen…), and Genet novels condemned to the flames.<\/p>\n Je t’aime, Je t’aime<\/em> (France, 1968)<\/strong><\/p>\n After attempting suicide, Claude is recruited for a time travel experiment, but, when the machine goes haywire, he may be trapped hurtling through his memories.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n (Previously<\/a>.) Much as I like toying with the idea that Last Year in Marienbad<\/em> is science fiction there really isn’t anything in it that easily justifies the claim. Director Alain Resnais said that this one wasn’t SF either but it does at least feature a time machine. Resnais had collaborated with Chris Marker in the 1950s, and the pair remained friends, so it’s tempting to see this as a riff on La Jet\u00e9e<\/em>. (There’s even an echo of Marker’s film in the title…) Both films use a doomed romance as a focus for their examination of memory and time, and both feature choral scores, the music for this one being composed by Krzysztof Penderecki.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Swissmade: 2069<\/em> (Switzerland, 1968)<\/strong><\/p>\n An alien visits Earth and records its experiences.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n (Previously<\/a>.) A semi-serious look at life in the Switzerland of the future whose most imaginative component is the humanoid being designed by HR Giger.<\/p>\n The Year of the Sex Olympics<\/em> (UK, 1968)<\/strong><\/p>\n Set in a future when the world is dominated and run by television…Overpopulation is a problem, so there are gluttony programmes to put people off food and pornography programmes to put them off sex…Audience attention begins to wane, however, until TV executive Ugo Priest works on a new concept\u2014a reality-based programme in which a couple is stranded on a bleak island, without the aid of any modern technology, and their efforts to survive filmed twenty-four hours a day.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Nigel Kneale wrote the BBC’s earliest SF dramas for television, The Quatermass Experiment<\/em> and a controversial adaptation of Nineteen Eighty-Four<\/em>. The Year of the Sex Olympics<\/em> was almost as controversial for its depiction of a sex-obsessed future society but it’s Kneale’s prediction of reality TV that resonates today. His play is heavy with futuristic cliches\u2014metallic fashions, neologisms and odd names\u2014but the depiction of TV producers who will do anything to maintain the attention of a jaded audience prefigures the cynicism of Network<\/em> and Nightcrawler<\/em>. With Leonard Rossiter, Martin Potter and Brian Cox.<\/p>\n World on a Wire<\/em> (Germany, 1973)<\/strong><\/p>\n The Simulacron project is an artificial world designed to forecast future social and material developments. When the project’s technical director dies in mysterious circumstances, Dr Fred Stiller is asked to take his place. The death of Stiller’s predecessor is only the first of a series of events centred on Simulacron which tip Stiller into a world of escalating paranoia and madness.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s two-part TV film is an adaptation of Simulacron-3<\/em> by Daniel F. Galouye, one of the first novels about virtual reality. This was Fassbinder’s only SF entry as a director (although he did act in another: see below), a 204-minute drama that managed to pre-empt all the films exploring similar subjects years later. This being Fassbinder, it’s still one of the best entries in the VR sub-genre, effortlessly superior to The Thirteenth Floor<\/em> (an adaptation of the same novel) and much better science fiction than contemporaneous efforts like Z.P.G.<\/em> and Battle for the Planet of the Apes<\/em>. World on a Wire<\/em> was a German production but, as with Alphaville<\/em>, Paris provides the settings for a future in which mirrors and shiny surfaces abound. With Klaus L\u00f6witsch as Dr Stiller, plus a host of Fassbinder regulars including G\u00fcnter Lamprecht, Margit Carsten and Gottfried John. Also a further nod to Alphaville<\/em> with a cameo from Eddie Constantine.<\/p>\n Fantastic Planet<\/em> (France, 1973)<\/strong><\/p>\n On a faraway planet where blue giants rule, oppressed humanoids rebel against their machine-like leaders.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Ren\u00e9 Laloux made three animated features based on French SF novels, with each film designed by a well-known French artist. The first of these, Fantastic Planet<\/em>, was based on a novel by Stefan Wul, and has always been Laloux’s most popular film thanks to Roland Topor’s memorable visuals and a groovy score by Alain Goraguer. “Wild Planet” would be a more accurate translation of the French title, also a fitting description of a world filled with weird and dangerous alien fauna.<\/p>\n The Final Programme<\/em> (UK, 1973)<\/strong><\/p>\n A trio of scientists plan to create a self-replicating, immortal, hermaphrodite using the Final Programme developed by a dead, Nobel Prize-winning scientist.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n The first feature based on anything from the SF New Wave, and an adaptation that its author, Michael Moorcock, has never liked. Robert Fuest didn’t have the budget to fully realise the chaotic near-future that Jerry Cornelius inhabits, nor the subtlety to convey the ironies in Moorcock’s fiction, but if you like the novels it’s a thrill to see any of this stuff brought to life. Jon Finch is perfect as the biscuit-munching Cornelius. With Jenny Runacre as Miss Brunner, plus Sterling Hayden, Patrick Macgee, and (briefly seen but not heard) Hawkwind.<\/p>\n The Invention of Morel<\/em> (Italy, 1974)<\/strong><\/p>\n A castaway on an apparently uninhabited island discovers an empty building which thereafter becomes filled with elegantly-dressed people. He can see them but they all seem unaware of his presence.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n The novel by Adolfo Bioy Casares was adapted for French TV in 1967, and for the cinema in this version directed by Emidio Greco. Rather than add another French title to this list I’ve chosen the Italian adaptation which doesn’t follow the book so closely but which has a superior setting and production design. With Giulio Brogi as The Castaway, and Anna Karina as his obscure object of desire, Faustine.<\/p>\n Space is the Place<\/em> (USA, 1974)<\/strong><\/p>\n John Coney’s low-budget feature has Sun Ra visiting Oakland in his spaceship in order to beguile the citizens with the Arkestra’s cosmic jazz which he hopes will persuade them to seek a better life in outer space. In other scenes he plays cards with the sinister Overseer for the fate of the Black populace. All the pimp stuff belongs in a different film but the shots of the Arkestra in concert are priceless, as is Ra’s open-topped car ride with Egyptian gods in the back seat.<\/p>\n Phase IV<\/em> (USA, 1974)<\/strong><\/p>\n Desert ants suddenly form a collective intelligence and begin to wage war on the inhabitants. It is up to two scientists and a stray girl they rescue from the ants to destroy them.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n The prevailing trend in the 1970s was for giant animals attacking people. Saul Bass went in the opposite direction, following earlier suggestions by Arthur C. Clarke that even insects might be capable of super-intelligence. If you live in a cold country it can be hard to take this as much of a threat but we don’t have fire ants in Britain, and besides which these are mutant ants. Bass’s scenario gets a little silly at times but the visuals are impressive, as is the insect photography. The original ending, which explained the title of the film, was a surrealist montage showing the eventual Triumph of the Ant. This was too much for the insect-brained distributors who forced a re-edit, but you can see the full sequence on the restored blu-ray.<\/p>\n Quintet<\/em> (USA, 1979)<\/strong><\/p>\n During a future ice age, dying humanity occupies its remaining time by playing a board game called ‘Quintet.’ For one small group, this obsession is not enough; they play the game with living pieces…and only the winner survives.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Robert Altman’s only SF film (Countdown<\/em> was closer to science fact) doesn’t have many supporters but I like its picture of a dwindling future society where life has become so circumscribed that a lethal game offers the only excitement. Filmed in the icy ruins of Montreal’s Expo ’67 which looks authentically frozen and dishevelled even if Altman is unable to make the place seem like the huge city it’s supposed to be. The whole production is held together by Paul Newman’s stoic performance. Play the board game!<\/a><\/p>\n Dead Mountaineer’s Hotel<\/em> (Estonia, 1979)<\/strong><\/p>\n A police inspector is called to a remote mountain hotel. While trying to discover why he was summoned there a guest is murdered and the place is cut off from the world by an avalanche. Then things get strange…<\/p><\/blockquote>\n The novels of Arkady and Boris Strugatsky have inspired a number of film adaptations. Stalker<\/em> (1979) and Hard To Be a God<\/em> (2013) are monumental works that aren’t on this list but are nevertheless essential viewing. Of the others I’ve seen to date, Days of Eclipse<\/em> (1988) is okay but not very memorable, while Dead Mountaineer’s Hotel<\/em> is better even if it seems slight compared to the Tarkovsky and Aleksei German adaptations. Grigori Kromanov’s film is pretty much a murder mystery for its first half until the strange events begin to multiply and Inspector Glebsky (Uldis Pucitis) finds himself out of his depth. With moody photography by J\u00fcri Sillart, a synthesizer score by Sven Gr\u00fcnberg, and J\u00fcri J\u00e4rvet (Dr. Snaut in Tarkovsky’s Solaris<\/em>) as the hotel proprietor.<\/p>\n Sapphire and Steel<\/em> (UK, 1979\u20131982)<\/strong><\/p>\n All irregularities will be handled by the forces controlling each dimension. Transuranic, heavy elements may not be used where there is life. Medium atomic weights are available: Gold, Lead, Copper, Jet, Diamond, Radium, Sapphire, Silver and Steel…. Sapphire and Steel have been assigned.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n (Previously<\/a>.) A studio-bound TV series devised by PJ Hammond that combined science fiction with horror, Sapphire and Steel<\/em> is a uniquely strange creation even by the standards of British TV in the late 70s\/early 80s. Sapphire (Joanna Lumley) and Steel (David McCallum) are temporal detectives, with each of their six assignments requiring them to correct disruptions to the Corridor of Time. These range from minor anomalies\u2014people from the future on a sightseeing journey into the past\u2014to incursions by malevolent forces who want access to the material Universe. The detective duo aren’t humans or aliens, they’re representatives of some cosmic repair agency that operates outside our continuum, and as such they don’t really care about any of the human beings they encounter. The final story, Assignment Six<\/em>, reaches a peak of weirdness with a metaphysical confrontation in the caf\u00e9 of an abandoned petrol station.<\/p>\n Death Watch<\/em> (France\/Germany, 1980)<\/strong><\/p>\n In a future where dying of illness is exceedingly rare, a terminally ill woman becomes a celebrity and a man with camera implants goes to secretly record her for a morbid TV show.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Reality TV again, and an excellent treatment of the subject. Bertrand Tavernier directs an adaptation of The Continuous Katherine Mortenhoe<\/em> by DG Compton, filmed entirely in the city of Glasgow and the Scottish countryside. Romy Schneider is Katherine Mortenhoe, a woman determined to die in her own time and her own way, being followed by cameraman Harvey Keitel whose eyes have been replaced by risky, experimental devices. Tavernier’s near-future is little changed from 1980, with only the briefest hints of new technologies and suggestions of some ongoing social collapse. Glasgow’s sombre architecture and defeated streets provide an unusual setting for a storyline whose subject may be sensational but whose treatment is serious and adult throughout. With Harry Dean Stanton as a cynical and craven TV executive, and Max von Sydow as Katherine’s former husband.<\/p>\n Artemis 81<\/em> (UK, 1981)<\/strong><\/p>\n The epic battle for the future of mankind is fought between an angel of light and an angel of death.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n David Rudkin’s 185-minute TV drama has Hywel Bennett as a bisexual paranormal investigator with Sting as his guardian angel. This is a film that fires in so many different directions\u2014metaphysical fantasy, mind-control paranoia, Hitchcockian psychodrama\u2014that it’s only the conviction of its performers, especially Bennett and Dinah Stabb, that prevents it from flying apart. Endlessly fascinating, and made at a time when the BBC was still challenging its viewers with creative ambition. Don’t take my word for it, read this<\/a> by Mark Fisher. With Dan O’Herlihy, and a very early role for Daniel Day-Lewis.<\/p>\n The Bunker of the Last Gunshots<\/em> (France, 1981)<\/strong><\/p>\n A military group of men is locked up in a bunker in an unknown future.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n The 25-minute live-action debut of Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro, both of whom appear among the cast of shaven-headed soldiers. A wordless depiction of ennui, absurdity, bursts of violence and escalating chaos, filmed in monochrome greens and blues.<\/p>\n Time Masters<\/em> (France, 1982)<\/strong><\/p>\n Ren\u00e9 Laloux’s second animated feature once again adapts a novel by Stefan Wul. When a small boy is left orphaned on a remote and dangerous planet a group of space-travellers hurry to rescue him. This one was evidently aimed in part at a young audience but children are likely to find the plight of Piel and his rescuers confusing and even frightening. The main attraction here is the production design by Moebius in his space-opera mode, still the closest thing we have to a full-on Moebius adaptation.<\/p>\n Chronopolis<\/em> (France, 1982)<\/strong><\/p>\n Weary immortals inhabit a metropolis in the sky and amuse themselves with constructions as they kill time and await whatever comes next.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Several of Piotr Kamler’s animated films can be classed as science fiction, especially The Green Planet<\/em> (1966), a short account of alien life made with sand animation. At 52 minutes, Chronopolis<\/em> is Kamler’s longest work, and one I often point to as an ideal in its depiction of an alien world that makes no attempt to explain itself. The inhabitants of this place may be humanoid but their environment and their activities are inexplicable throughout, as viewers all we can do is watch and wonder. With an electronic score by Luc Ferrari.<\/p>\n Liquid Sky<\/em> (USA, 1982)<\/strong><\/p>\n Sex, drugs and tiny aliens in midtown Manhattan. A very small flying saucer lands on the roof of an apartment belonging to Margaret, a young fashion model. The aliens are here to feed on human endorphins by shooting glass darts into the heads of anyone nearby who has an orgasm. A German UFO hunter turns up to explain all this but Margaret works it out herself when two people wind up dead in her room. Slava Tsukerman’s independent feature is a vivid portrait of New York’s polysexual bohemia, a film whose bright colours and solarisation would have seen it labelled as “psychedelic” a decade earlier. With co-writer Anne Carlisle in a gender-bending dual role, great photography by Yuri Neyman, and lots of neon lights.<\/p>\n Kamikaze 1989<\/em> (Germany, 1982)<\/strong><\/p>\n In a totalitarian society of the future, in which the government controls all facets of the press, a homicide detective investigates a string of bombings, and finds out more than he bargained for.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n 2089 might have made a more suitable date when the opening narration would have us believe that in a mere seven years German resourcefulness will have solved all of the world’s technological problems. Rainer Werner Fassbinder appears in his final role as Police Lieutenant Jansen, a detective with a leopard-print revolver to match his leopard-print suit. Wolf Gremm’s film is a comic-book view of the future, where the police headquarters has its own discotheque, and the neon aesthetics of Liquid Sky<\/em> have taken over the world. Detective Jansen storms about the place with all the subtlety of Lemmy Caution, accompanied by electronic music from Edgar Froese. With Fassbinder regulars G\u00fcnther Kaufmann and Brigitte Mira, plus Franco Nero in a minor role. Based on a novel by Per Wahl\u00f6\u00f6.<\/p>\n Taking Tiger Mountain<\/em> (USA, 1983)<\/strong><\/p>\n Militant feminist scientists brainwash research subject to assassinate the Welsh Minister of Prostitution.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n (Previously<\/a>.) Black-and-white footage filmed without sound in 1974 is repurposed years later by Tom Huckabee and Kent Smith as a bizarre SF scenario with narrative details borrowed from William Burroughs. With a young Bill Paxton in his first film role, lots of uncomprehending Welsh villagers, and a couple of hardcore sex scenes.<\/p>\n The Last Battle<\/em> (France, 1983)<\/strong><\/p>\n I’ve never been keen on Luc Besson’s oeuvre but I do like his debut feature, a wordless depiction of a post-apocalypse world in widescreen black-and-white. French SF cinema is heavily marked by the influence of M\u00e9tal Hurlant<\/em>, and this story owes as much to French comics as it does to the wasteland aesthetics of Mad Max 2<\/em>. In a ruined clinic, The Man (Pierre Jolivet) and The Doctor (Jean Bouise) play cat-and-mouse with The Brute (Jean Reno) while fish rain down in the streets outside. JG Ballard would have relished the opening scenes of The Man constructing a light aircraft in an office filled with sand.<\/p>\n Angel’s Egg<\/em> (Japan, 1985)<\/strong><\/p>\n Visual poetry by Mamoru Oshii, based on designs by Yoshitaka Amano. A small girl wanders through a deserted nocturnal city carrying a large egg. She teams up with an older boy who wears a cloak and carries a cross. Neither of them knows who they are or where they are; the director says he doesn’t know what his film is about. None of this matters, it’s persistently strange and wonderful. With inexplicable machines, the shadows of giant invisible fish, and a large dose of religious symbolism. Also the only anime you’ll see where a static shot is held for two whole minutes.<\/p>\n Gandahar<\/em> (France, 1987)<\/strong><\/p>\n An evil force from a 1000 years in the future begins to destroy an idyllic paradise, where the citizens are in perfect harmony with nature.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Ren\u00e9 Laloux’s final animated feature is a more adult affair than Time Masters<\/em>, based on a novel by Jean-Pierre Andrevon. The peaceful inhabitants of Gandahar are threatened by an invasion of identical metal humanoids whose abductions of the populace are helping to build their army of clones. The intrepid Sylvain is dispatched to find the source of the invasion and stop it for good. The production design by Philippe Caza is familiar from his comic books: lots of space hippies, strange creatures and bare breasts. Animated by a North Korean studio.<\/p>\n![\"liquid1.jpg\"](\"https:\/\/www.johncoulthart.com\/feuilleton\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/01\/liquid1.jpg\")
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