Tag Archives: movies

[September 15, 1963] The Silent Star: A cinematic extravaganza from beyond the Iron Curtain


by Cora Buhlert

In my last article, I gave an overview of science fiction novels from beyond the Iron Curtain, including the works of Polish author Stanislaw Lem. Today I will take a look at a recent East German/Polish movie based on one of Lem's novels.

It will probably surprise you that Eastern Europe has a tradition of fantastic cinema, particularly stunning fairy tale movies that can wow even Western audiences. In fact, the state-owned East German DEFA studios has produced lots of live action fairy tale movies and stop motion puppet films since 1946.

Eventually, the DEFA decided to use the technical expertise gained from making fairy tale movies and apply it to science fiction. In 1957, director Kurt Maetzig announced that he planned to adapt Stanislaw Lem's novel Astronauci (Astronauts), published as Planet des Todes (Planet of Death) in German. Maetzig even hired Lem to write an early draft of the script.

Kurt Maetzig is not a natural choice for East Germany's first science fiction movie, since he is mostly known for realist fare and even outright propaganda films. Though the fact that Maetzig is a staunch Communist helped him overcome the reservations of DEFA political director Herbert Volkmann, who doesn’t like science fiction, since it does not advance the Communist project and who shot down eleven script drafts as well as Maetzig’s plan to hire West European stars.

Slated for 1958, the film, now called Der schweigende Stern (The Silent Star), finally premiered in February 1960. Stanislaw Lem reportedly did not like the movie at all. Nonetheless, it became a success and also played in West Germany under the title Raumschiff Venus Antwortet Nicht (Spaceship Venus does not reply).

The Silent Star begins in the not so far off future of 1970, unlike the novel, which is set in the somewhat further off future of 2003. During excavation work, a mysterious coil with a recording in an unknown language is found. Scientists realise that the message originates on Venus and came to Earth when a spaceship crashed in the Tunguska region in Siberia in 1908.

Once humanity is aware of a civilisation on Venus, they try to establish communication. However, Venus does not reply. Therefore, it is decided to send a spaceship. Luckily, the Soviet Union just happens to have one and kindly donates it to an international Venus mission. This spaceship, the Kosmokrator, must be the prettiest rocket ship ever seen on screen. It looks as if a Hugo Award sprouted three baby Hugos.

The multinational crew consists of Russian astronomer Professor Arsenyew (Michail N. Postnikow), Polish engineer Soltyk (Ignacy Machowski) and his robot Omega, German pilot Raimund Brinkmann (Günther Simon), Indian mathematician Professor Sikarna (Kurt Rackelmann), Chinese linguist and biologist Dr. Chen Yu (Hua-Ta Tang), African communications technician Talua (Julius Ongewe) and the only woman on board, Japanese doctor Sumiko Ogimura (Yoko Tani).

The Kosmokrator crew even includes an American, nuclear physicist Professor Harringway Hawling (Oldrich Lukes), who joins the mission against the wishes of a group of cartoonish American capitalists. The only American willing to support Hawling is his mentor Professor Weimann (Eduard von Winterstein), who hoped to harness nuclear power, but was forced to build nuclear weapons instead. Weimann tells the assembled cartoon capitalists, "Hiroshima was your adventure. His adventure is the mission to Venus."

This is not the only mention of Hiroshima in the movie. Sumiko lost her mother in Hiroshima and was rendered infertile due to radiation exposure, which causes her a lot of angst and also torpedoes her budding romance with Brinkmann, who thinks that she shouldn't be aboard the ship because a woman's place is to bear children. Meanwhile, the fact that the Soviet Union has nuclear weapons and that the People's Republic of China is working on them is not mentioned at all. Apparently, nuclear weapons are only bad when in the hands of Americans.

These propaganda bits are eyerollingly blunt, but the Kosmokrator's multinational crew offers a positive vision of a future where the world's powers are no longer rivals in the space race (cartoon capitalists notwithstanding) but work together. Furthermore, the Kosmokrator's crew includes members from the emerging nations of Asia and Africa, which is a big step forward compared to the all-male, all-white and all-American crew seen in Forbidden Planet. I wonder when we will see Russian, Japanese or African astronauts aboard western spaceships, whether in fiction or reality.  

A crew of scientists, every single one of them the very best in their respective fields, seems like a good idea in theory, but the characters remain bland and I had to dig up my program book to recall their names.

Arsenyew and Brinkmann are both square-jawed and heroic to the point of caricature. The balding engineer Soltyk is memorable because he doesn't fit the image of a heroic astronaut. Sikarna and Hawling are serious scientists. Chen Yu and Talua are given little to do until the end. Sumiko, the only female character of note in the film, mainly exists to angst about her infertility. Even the robot,Omega,is dull.

Once the mission gets underway, the Kosmokrator crew faces the usual perils of space travel such as a meteorite shower and a risky repair in space. They also manage to decipher the message and realise that the Venusians had planned to nuke Earth from orbit in 1908, when their ship crashed. The crew withholds this crucial information from the authorities to avoid causing a panic. They also decide to continue their mission to see if the Venusians have learned the error of their warlike ways.

When the Kosmokrator reaches Venus, the crew still cannot contact anybody and their sensors cannot penetrate the dense cloud cover. Brinkmann and the robot scout ahead, but lose contact with the ship and so the Kosmokrator lands after all.

The crew finds a bizarre Venusian landscape, including a radioactive "glass forest", a glowing sphere and a cave full of metallic spiders, which they initially mistake for lifeforms, but which turn out to be mechanical and part of a Venusian archive.

Chen Yu figures out that the radioactive forest is not biological either, but a gigantic nuclear cannon. Chen Yu and Sikarna also decipher the Venusian archive and realise that many recordings abruptly break off, as if Venus was hit by a massive catastrophe.

You'd think that these alarming discoveries would persuade the Kosmokrator crew to get the hell out of there. However, our brave astronauts continue their explorations and discover a ruined city. They also finally catch a glimpse of some Venusians in the form of humanoid blast shadows. And just in case the viewer might have forgotten, Sumiko reminds us that she saw similar blast shadows in Hiroshima.

The Venus scenes – shot in Agfacolor and Totalvision – are the highlight of the movie and can compete with anything Hollywood produces. The DEFA team managed to create a dreamlike alien landscape that is reminiscent of modern art. The radioactive forest and the ruined city are influenced by the paintings of Salvador Dalí, Joan Miró and Paul Klee. The glowing sphere is based on the geodesic dome designs of Buckminster Fuller, while the Venusian blast shadows are reminiscent of the sculptures of Alberto Giacometti.

In the ruined city, Arsenyew and Hawling come upon the targeting system for the nuclear cannon, while Brinkmann, Soltyk and Sumiko are chased up a spiralling tower by a burbling mass (portrayed by the entire annual East German production of glue, which must have screwed up the plan fulfilment of several industries), which recedes when Soltyk fires at it. At the same time, both the sphere and the targeting system activate. Uh-oh.

Though the Kosmokrator's crew consists of Earth's best and brightest, it takes them a long time to catch on to what is happening. In fact, I suspect that many viewers have figured out the mystery long before the crew does, namely that the Venusians managed to blow themselves up during their attempt to nuke Earth in 1908. However, their cannon is still functional and still aimed at Earth. And our blundering astronauts managed to reactivate it.

The rest of the movie is a race against time, as the Kosmokrator crew scrambles to deactivate the nuclear cannon and the glowing sphere which turns out to be a gravity device holding the Kosmokrator captive. And as if all that wasn't enough, the radiation also causes the robot Omega to run amok.

Chen Yu and Talua deactivate the system, but Chen Yu damages his space suit. Brinkmann takes off to rescue him, but it's too late. The gravity field created by the sphere reverses and hurls the Kosmokrator back into space. Brinkmann is lost and Chen Yu perishes, while Talua is left standing alone on a dead planet.

These heroic deaths should be a lot more affecting than they are. But the climactic scenes feel rushed, especially compared to the staid pace of the rest of the movie. The crew seems unaffected as well. Hence, Sumiko tells the dying Chen Yu that the Venusian seeds he found have sprouted, which will be a great comfort to him as he suffocates. Finally, the film cuts straight to the landing on Earth, where the surviving crewmembers sum up the moral of the story, before the movie ends with everybody holding hands.

"War will only destroy the aggressor" is a popular theme in East European science fiction and may also be found in the West. Rocketship X-M has a similar plot, but set on Mars rather than Venus. Forbidden Planet features another alien civilisation that managed to destroy itself, though by harnessing the power of the mind rather than the power of the atom. I have no idea if Lem or Maetzig have seen either movie, but the similarities are striking. Fear of nuclear war is another common theme in both East and West, which I find heartening if only because knowing that both sides share this fear makes it less likely that someone will press that button.

Spaceships with multiracial and multinational crews can be found in both Eastern and Western Europe, whether in the works of Stanislaw Lem, Eberhard del'Antonio and Carlos Rasch and West Germany's Perry Rhodan series. I wish that American science fiction would follow suit because the future should have room for everybody and not just for Americans and Russians.

American and British viewers did have a chance to watch The Silent Star, for the movie was distributed in the US and UK under the title First Spaceship to Venus, though the US/UK edit is about ten minutes shorter than the original, because the propaganda bits such as the scene with the capitalists as well as all Hiroshima references were cut.

So if you happen to come across The Silent Star a.k.a. First Spaceship to Venus in a movie theatre, should you watch it? I'd say yes, because in spite of its weaknesses, The Silent Star is an interesting science fiction movie with stunning visuals. British and American viewers lose ten minutes of propaganda dialogue, but that's not that much of a loss.

Three and a half stars.




[June 26, 1963] Double or Nothing (King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962))

[Thirty years ago King Kong succumbed to a hail of bullets and fell to his death off the Empire State Building.  The Japanese saurian, Gojira (Godzilla), was last seen trapped in an iceberg in 1955.  Well, nothing lasts forever, especially when there is money to be made.  Ice melts, and where there's one ape on Skull Island, you can bet there's another…]


by Lorelei Marcus

If you've been keeping up with our most recent articles you'll know my family and I recently flew to Japan for a short vacation. While we were there we saw and encountered many amazing things. My father documented our adventures, which have their own article devoted to them.

If you read that article, you will notice one event that stood out in particular, mainly because it was promised its own personal review. This just so happens to be that review, our thoughts on King Kong vs Gozilla! Now I will say it took some serious convincing to even get me to the theater, but despite my digging heels and griping, I actually really had a good time watching it. The “giant monster” movies have always been a personal favorite (to make fun of, anyway), and viewing two monsters on the big screen at the same time was certainly a treat.


Pretty much what it says on the tin — King Kong vs. Godzilla

Though the epic monster fight was the main spectacle of the movie, it also managed to have a plot too. Well, sort of. The movie follows a dying Pharmaceuticals company whose executive is trying to get business by gaining traction on TV. Obviously the best way to get TV viewership is to send two of your employees to a small exotic island in search of giant monsters you can exploit. So that's just what they do, discovering King Kong in the process. An awesome fight breaks out between King Kong and a giant octopus, for some reason, and after a much too long “exotic” dance sequence from the island's “natives” King Kong drinks some special juice and falls asleep.


"I've got an amazing idea!"


"I am rethinking the wisdom of this idea…"


Not Japanese people in dark paint.  Absolutely not.  (Dig the pidgin they speak — it's English!)


"Room temperature?!  Savages."

Meanwhile on the other side of the world in the Arctic Ocean, Godzilla has awoken and already destroyed an American submarine. Japan starts panicking and evacuating, because Godzilla, of course, is headed right for them! Luckily the Pharmaceutical company honcho made the poor decision of bringing King Kong back to Japan with them, and as you may imagine, another epic fight ensues. Then the monsters split up to destroy some (utterly real, absolutely not papier mache) Japanese buildings for a bit. King Kong even carries a woman to the top of the Diet, because, of course he does. The movie climaxes with a final battle of epic proportions. Lasers, fire, lighting, big rocks! Truly engrossing. Unfortunately, the movie then abruptly ends, leaving the audience kind of confused and unsatisfied.


What really happened to the Thresher… (too soon, I know)


The subtitles say "What the…"  It's appropriate to every scene of the movie.


"Today's Godzilla report — warm, with a chance of lightning."


"Because I'm King Kong!"


Young love blossoms in Japan…

Despite the ending and the very silly story, I still very much enjoyed watching this movie. It's always a lot of fun seeing how they put together the special effects. There is no middle ground when it comes to monster movie special effects. They're either extremely convincing or extremely convincing of the fact that those buildings are doll houses. However I did find that when they had one of the monsters on open landscape it was very effective at making them look gigantic. I will also admit when I was younger the effects looked completely real, so it's really up to interpretation.


When King Kong takes the train, he really takes the train!

The fights themselves were hit or miss. At some points they were very engaging and dramatic. At others… just two people in rubber suits waving their arms around. Though I will say I was certainly entertained the whole time, even if sometimes I had to hold down my laughter to avoid disturbing the theater.


That's what we paid to see!

My favorite fight was actually the first one between King Kong and the octopus because I felt it was the most interesting. With a combination of overlaying green screens, puppets, and even some stop motion, it truly made the fight dramatic.


"Mmmm… sashimi!"

Like most Japanese productions, this movie fell into the trap of extreme over-acting. It was generally played for laughs — which it got, but probably not for the reasons originally intended. In a lot of ways this movie didn't really feel like a movie — more of an excuse to have giant monsters fight each other. The story was disjointed, the effects were varied, the acting was extreme, and the fight choreography all over the place!


"I've got an amazing idea!"


Well, it was better than the Pharmaceutical guy's idea…

Thus, as an actual movie I give King Kong vs Godzilla! 2 stars out of 5. However, if I were rating this spectacle on entertainment value alone, I would give it 4 stars. If you happen to catch a flight to Japan in the near future, I recommend you takes some time to enjoy this movie with a friend.

This is the Young Traveler, signing off.




[June 22, 1963] Damned if they do (the movie, The Damned)


By Ashley R. Pollard

The Cold War is never far from our thoughts, but in the darkness there is light.  The light that is the Russian space programme, leading the way with the first woman in space.

On June the fourteenth Valentina Tereshkova was launched aboard Vostok Six.  She ascended on a pillar of flame to join fellow cosmonaut Valery Bykovsky in orbit.

Together they mark the first time two spaceships have been in orbit at the same time, and of course the first time a woman has been sent into space.

If only all the Cold War news was as exciting and optimistic as this.

By contrast our entertainment industry seeks to promote fear.  And what generates the most fear in these days of the Cold War is atomic radiation.  It is the snake oil of plot devices that can be used to justify any idea.

When in doubt, radiation can be relied upon to supply the right McGuffin, be it to make things large or small, to drive the story.  For example, the enormous monster in The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, the giant ants in Them, or Godzilla, to the other extreme shown in The Incredible Shrinking Man.

Radiation also figures in The Damned aka these are The Damned, this new movie, made by Hammer Film Productions. It was shot in Britain last year, but has only now been released.

Before I go further, The Damned should not be mistaken as a sequel to the 1960 movie, Village of the Damned, based on the novel The Midwich Cuckoos by John Wyndham.  Despite the similarity of the titles they're two entirely different stories.

The Damned is an adaptation of H. L. Lawrence's story The Children of Light.  This novel came out in 1960 and it passed me by without impinging on my consciousness.

Having hunted down a friend who has read the book, I can say The Children of Light is about as far from a Wyndham cozy catastrophe as one can get.  It's quite grim.

The novel tells the story of Simon who has murdered his wife after he discovered she was having an affair with another man.  He's on the run when he encounters a vicious gang, whose leader has a half-sister, who falls for Simon.  She helps him escape the gang, and they hide in a farmhouse, still on the run from the law.

Up to here the story is quite mundane.  There's no real hint that it's set in the future, as the setting feels very contemporary.

Then the secret is revealed.

Radiation from atomic fallout has lowered the birthrate over the last couple of generations.  Ultimately, everyone will become sterile, which is being hidden from the people by the government.

From here we get to meeting the children at a secret school, one of whom is named, George Orwell.  They're described as having platinum hair that sparkles.  Shades of Wyndham here though.

The plot then evolves by introducing a reporter who is searching for Simon because he believes the government reporting his death, while trying to escape in a mine accident, is a cover-up.

It is.  It's to cover-up the truth about the existence of children who are all radioactive.  The government has a plan.  The children are being groomed to become the next generation after the human race dies out.

And the government will go to any length to protect the plan, and the ending of the book is deeply dark, cynical, and paints a black picture of the establishment who will commit any crime to further their agenda.

It's a pretty bleak book.

The film is in many ways better than the book.  As in it's bleak, but entertainingly so because of the actors performances.

The Damned starts on an upbeat note, with Simon enjoying a boating holiday off the south coast of Britain, played by American actor Macdonald Carey.  Whom I'm told is known as "The King of the Bs."

Simon is recently divorced, and he meets a young woman called Joan while walking around Weymouth.  She's played by Shirley Anne Field, who has been associated with John F. Kennedy, and starred in various comedies, including Man in the Moon.

Then the story takes a left turn into darkness.

Her brother, called King, is played by Oliver Reed who has starred in another Hammer film, Curse of the Werewolf.  He's known as a bit of a bad boy, which means his portrayal projects a convincing amount of menace.  He also steals every scene he's in with a totally magnetic performance.

King is the leader of a Teddy Boy gang who mug Simon for his wallet.  After being mugged, Simon goes back to his boat.

The next day Joan appears and explains to him that her brother is insanely jealous of her being with other men.  I understand that the implication of "incest" was one of the reasons for the film's release being delayed.  The other being the portrayal of gang culture.

Simon and Joan start a relationship, but their movements are being monitored by the gang.  So when they visit a house owned by Freya, a women who Simon previously met in a cafe while exploring the delights of sunny Weymouth, they're horrified to discover that the gang has come and surrounded the place.

But they manage to escape and end up in a nearby military base run by a sinister scientist called Bernard.  After being questioned as to what brought them to the base they're allowed to leave.

Unfortunately, King doesn't give up that easily.  He's lain in wait.

When Simon and Joan leave, King pursues them.  During the chase they descend a cliff where they stumble upon a cave.  There they find nine children all aged eleven.  Named I noticed after the Kings and Queens of Britain.  King has followed them and the story unfolds.

The caves are part of a network that leads back to the military base.  The children use the cave because they think it's unknown to the military.  It's not, and things deteriorate when men turn up in radiation suits to remove Simon, Joan, and King.

The reveal is that all the children are radioactive, and the three of them have been exposed to a lethal dose of radiation.  Though they escape, it doesn't end well.

With the closing of the film, we learn that the children were all born radioactive after a nuclear accident.  The government is holding them because they're immune to nuclear fallout, and they'll be able to survive when the inevitable nuclear war comes.

All a bit horrifying.

And, just to rub it in that Bernard is "evil," we have a scene where he kills Freya after she discovers his plan for the children.

This is what I would call a watch once movie.  It rattles along, and the performances by the cast are good.  Especially Oliver Reed's, who is able to project a real sense of menace.  But, it's not what you would call a hopeful story, and might not be to everyone's taste.

Far better to look to the stars, and live in hope of a brighter, better future than one where the Earth has been destroyed by a nuclear war.  So, to end on a positive note, congratulations to both Valentina Tereshkova and Valery Bykovsky for setting a new double space record.




[June 2, 1963] Too close to home (The movie, The Mind Benders)


by Gideon Marcus

[Today's article is a true treat — a full three Journeyers caught the latest science fiction flick, an import from Britain.  We hope you enjoy this, our first review en trio…]

Think "science fiction" movie, and you might conjure up a rubber-suited monster or a giant insect or perhaps a firework-spouting bullet of a spaceship.  Once in a great while, we get a Forbidden Planet or The Time Machine — high quality films but no less fantastic in subject matter. 

Now picture a "horror" film.  Perhaps it involves the supernatural or monstrous terror.  Maybe it's one of Hitchcock's genre-creating numbers like Psycho or The Birds.  Often, the lines between SF and horror are quite blurry as in films like Wasp Woman and The Day Mars Invaded Earth.  After all, the unknown can be quite terrifying, and what is SF but an exploration of the unknown?

The Mind Benders is a new British film that straddles the line between science fiction and horror and yet bears no resemblance to any of the examples described above.  It is, in fact, a movie set in the now and portraying modern (if cutting edge) science.  And the horror depicted is all the more jarring for its common nature. 

Two nascent sciences are the basis for this movie.  One is that of brainwashing, the technique of forcibly altering someone's beliefs, generally through some kind of torture, privation, or other constant pressure.  This is the sort of thing covert agencies are good at, but you can also see it on a national level, through effective use of propaganda and fear.  The other science is sensory deprivation.  Several experiments have been done into the effects of having all of one's senses dulled.  A subject is suspended in warm water, in the dark, unable to smell, taste, or hear anything.  The results include disorientation, agitation, and hallucination. 

The film starts with aged sensory deprivation scientist Sharpey, paranoid and in a daze, taking his own life by throwing himself off a moving train.  In his satchel are thousands in pound notes.  Army Intelligence Major Hall is called in to investigate, and he quickly determines that Sharpey had recently sold secrets to the Communists.  Ready to brand the scientist a traitor and close the case, he is persuaded by Sharpey's colleague, Longman, that Sharpey was a patriot, and that any lapse in loyalty must have been a result of a recent sensory deprivation experience. 

Longman is introduced as a loving husband and a doting father, humorous and cynical, and possessed of a tremendous fear of sensory deprivation after several terrifying experiments.  Nevertheless, he offers himself up for a final test, a full eight hours in the deprivation tank, to show that it does something to a person.  Having shown that, Longman can prove that Sharpey was not responsible for his treasonous activities. 

Hall agrees, and with the assistance of a third colleague, Tate, who has not been a subject, conducts the experiment on Longman.  Floating alone and in the dark, the scientist suffers countless subjective hours of anguish (though only a third of a day passes outside), and at its end, he is reduced to a blank, malleable state.  Hall recognizes this condition — a broken man in this state is easily brainwashed.  But this is not enough.  They must compel Longman to engage in activity completely counter to his nature, to shake him of his strongest-held belief.  So, they pull Longman from the tank, dazed and vulnerable.

And with a just a few choice words, they cause him to hate his wife, Oonagh. 

Yet, due to the circumstances under which they effect their plot, it is unclear that they have succeeded.  Longman is released, the experiment seemingly a failure.  So ensues six months with Oonagh, increasingly pregnant, incessantly nagged and belittled until she is a shell of herself.  Longman is also a changed man, bitter and resentful, completely unaware of what has been done to him.  That Oonagh endures for so long is British "stiff-upper-lipism" carried to its absurd limits.  That this state of affairs goes unnoticed for half a year is because Tate, himself in love with Oonagh, cannot bring himself to check up on the ruined couple.

Blessedly, once Hall does find out, he is (with no little difficulty) able to reverse the process.  The marriage is repaired and Sharpey's name is cleared.  But, by God, at what price?

As a movie, Benders is a success, cinematographically compelling and with superb acting.  What makes this horror so effective is its utter plausibility, and as a family man, myself, the situation struck me at my core and left me shaken. 

It's not a perfect film.  I imagine 15 minutes could have been cut with no great loss.  And the overlong period of estrangement runs a bit beyond the lengths of credulity, and yet… is it not all too common for women to suffer indefinitely with men they once loved in the hopes that things might, one day, return to how they were?

I couldn't watch The Mind Benders again, and I can't recommend it to those who will find the subject matter unbearable, but I must recognize the skill with which the movie was crafted.  Four stars.


by Lorelei Marcus

I didn't have very high hopes going into The Mind Benders, thinking it was going to be another campy science fiction movie using a shaky camera for special effects. Instead, I got a rather dark film about the capacity of the human mind and its reaction to prolonged isolation. The concept was very fascinating, and the story even more haunting from being based on real experiments. The acting was excellent, even too real at times.

However, it was not all good. The movie was much too long, and I believe it could benefit a lot from having a few of the “man bicycles around the city” scenes taken out. Even with the interesting premise, it also lulled at times, and I found myself wondering when the movie was going to end. Even so, I would give this movie three stars out of five. It wasn't anything super special, but it wasn't bad either.

This is the Young Traveler signing off.


by Natalie Devitt

The tagline for The Mind Benders described the film as being “perverted… soulless! The most dangerous and different motion picture ever brought to the screen!” So, naturally that piqued my curiosity. What I ended up with was a pretty ambitious story about brainwashing.

Luckily, I’m a sucker for a story about brainwashing.

Overall, the film was well-shot with believable acting. The movie did run out of steam a little towards the end, and I’m not totally sure that I bought the ending, but it was an otherwise effective sci-fi/thriller. The film’s somewhat disturbing plot and dream-like qualities kept it on my mind long after it ended. Three and a half stars.




[April 3, 1963] Feathered Threads (Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds)


by Gwyn Conaway


The Birds , directed by Alfred Hitchcock, premiered on March 28th, 1963.

Just yesterday I saw Alfred Hitchcock’s new film The Birds.  On its surface, the premise is quite simple — the avians in a peaceful locale suddenly turn murderous.  It's a superb piece of suspense from the unarguable master of such things.  As the sun rose this morning and I sipped my coffee, I wondered if the little songbirds in my garden could ever turn on me. What a chilling thought!

Of course, try as Hitchcock might to distract me with scenes of feathered terror, being me, I couldn’t help but notice the costume design. And while, the pre-release copy of the film I saw was in black and white, my privileged position at the studio let me observe the costumes in person (and in living color). With the film released, I can finally share what I’ve seen! 

Costume designer Edith Head masterfully combined the sleepy seaside palette with the elegance of the city through cut and fit. Lydia Brenner, played by the talented Jessica Tandy, is a great example of this harmony. Her fabrics are those that we associate with the country. Tweeds and contrast knits in particular are found throughout her design. However, her silhouettes are fresh and metropolitan. Head even mixes in fine silks to give her an air of sophistication. This combination also illuminates the teetering balance Brenner tries to maintain between a domineering and doting mother.


Lydia’s tweed cocoon coat is a beautiful example of how the fashion-forward city silhouette has creeped into Bodega Bay while maintaining the little coastal town’s country charm.


In this casual evening ensemble, we can see her motherly conundrum. Note the fine silk charmeuse blouse beneath the contrast knit cardigan. The “knit” side of Lydia’s personality is docile, while the “silk” side is conniving.

This subtle design emphasizes the obvious tension between Lydia and Melanie, played by Tippi Hedren, a socialite with designs on Lydia's son. Melanie is a city girl through and through. Her palettes play on this contrast. Her dress suit and fur jacket drip with metropolitan wealth.

When she borrowed a dinghy to sneak across the bay, I was struck with the direct comparison of the texture of the docks to her red fox fur coat. I realized that, in her own misguided way, she was using the natural texture of the fur to try helplessly to blend in with the little town; a detail that lends itself to her rather clumsy and charming game.

The star of the film was obviously her dress suit. The costume is an open jacket with small patch pockets that sit low on the hem and sleeve cuffs that fall just above the wrist. It’s cut to perfection with a single vertical dart from shoulder to bust that helps the jacket maintain a square yet smooth shape over the bust. The matching dress beneath is a sheath cut, sleeveless, with a three-inch wide self belt and an invisible zipper down the center back. What you can’t deduce from the release of the film, however, is that the dress suit is a tangy, energetic pistachio green!


Beautiful, isn’t it?

Draped in the color of spring, is it any wonder that Lydia feels threatened by the young and boisterous Melanie? Certainly not. However, I think the real source of Lydia’s uneasiness lies in Mitch’s wardrobe.

Lydia's son, Mitch Brenner, played by Rod Taylor (star of The Twilight Zone and The Time Machine, is a man caught between the slow-paced life of Bodega Bay and the bustling hubbub of the city. Although the seaside town is his escape, he is always destined to leave it for San Francisco.


Note that his styling, the ribbed fishing captain’s sweater paired with the paisley ascot, is that of a wealthy yachter rather than the resident of a coastal town.


Residents of Bodega Bay holed up in the local cafe with Melanie. The contrast in texture between her smooth dress suit and the local nappy textiles help her stand out among the crowd. Compare their looks with Mitch above for a similar effect.

At the same time, he follows his mother’s habits of using fashionable silhouettes with more textured fabrics. The suit he wears to his sister’s birthday party is an excellent example. A slender tie paired with a wide-gorge shirt collar and a high notch on the lapel of his suit jacket make for a very trendy man.

Rather than being concerned over the women in his life, perhaps Lydia is concerned for the patterns she sees within her son. Is he destined to forget her? Will he leave her like his father did before him?

The frenzy of the birds in Bodega Bay is a terrifying mystery. They seem to gather against humans without cause. However, I wonder if the answers don’t lie in Lydia’s fears. The birds crowd the town’s residents gradually and then strike with sudden ferocity. A similar feeling is commonly associated with anxiety. Lydia’s fears about her son are chronic with acute moments of panic. Could Lydia, in fact, be the subconscious cause of the birds?

I can only imagine that the connection is deliberate. Just as Edith Head wove the fabric of the costumes with the psyche of the characters, so Hitchcock wove a deeper theme into his film, elevating a "monster flick" into cinema for the ages.




[Mar. 28, 1963] March of Progress (the movie, Come Fly With Me)

[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — you might just hear a song from the album released by a new British band: The Beatles!]


By Ashley R. Pollard

March has finally brought a thaw in the weather.  The snow is leaving my fair and pleasant land, and, by the good graces of the Traveler, I have had a metaphorical break from the cold.  In the mail, I received a ticket to yesterday's cinematic premier of Come Fly With Me, a film about Jet Age romance in the airline business, with a note asking if I might provide a review. 

I, of course, obliged.  The viewing turned out to be not quite as glamorous experience as the one portrayed in the movie…if only because watching a preview in a basement cinema in Soho Square with lots of newspaper hacks from Fleet Street chain smoking cigarettes is hardly the epitome of a jet setting lifestyle.

Mind you, the movie can in no way be described as science fictional.  It makes no attempt to portray the effects of technology on society.  But it does a good job of painting a romantic picture of a future where jet travel is taken for granted.

And so, I spent a very pleasant afternoon watching (through the clouds of smoke) a frothy, light-hearted story that starts with Frankie Valli singing the eponymous song Come Fly With Me

Despite beginning in New York, dominated by a largely American cast, this is a British production.  It can be best be described as a light, romantic comedy, which doesn't stand up to close scrutiny.  The story centers around three air hostesses, who are all looking for Mister Right—hence the film's subtitle: A Romantic Round the World Manhunt.  The screenplay is an adaption of the book, Girl on a Wing, by Bernard Glemser, that was categorized as chick-lit, so assuming I have my American slang right, this makes Come Fly With Me a chick-flic.

Men beware — this may not be to your taste.  However, as a date night movie it might be ideal.

Dolores Hart leads the billing playing Donna Stuart, who is a woman looking for a rich husband.  She made her screen debut in the 1957 film Loving You as a love interest to Elvis Presley, and appeared with him again in the 1958 King Creole, which featured her first on screen kiss.  Stuart's story arc revolves an on-then-off romance with a German Baron, who is not quite what he seems.

Pamela Tiffin plays Carol Brewster, who is the younger air hostess and comic relief.  She is a Golden Globe nominated actress for her role in One, Two, Three, and as Most Promising Female Newcomer for Summer and Smoke.  Brewster's romance with a dashing airline pilot is the core of the comedy in the movie.  Ms. Tiffin manages to steal every scene she is in, and I imagine she will go far.

Lois Nettleton plays Hilda "Bergie" Bergstrom who is the older woman with a sad history, who despite her protestations is finally won over by a widower.  Ms. Nettleton was a semifinalist in the 1948 Miss America competition, and I discovered she has also appeared in Captain Video, which is the first of two science fiction connections in this movie.

I don't know much about Captain Video, but it did have stories written by Isaac Asimov, James Blish, Arthur C. Clarke, Damon Knight, Cyril M. Kornbluth, Walter M. Miller, Robert Sheckley, and Jack Vance.

The main male romantic lead is played by Hugh O'Brien, a former United States Marine Corps officer, in the role of First Officer Ray Winsley who is the Co-Pilot of the plane a large portion of the story takes place on.  Winsley can best be described as a scoundrel who, in this case, comes good and gets the girl.  O'Brien is mostly known for his roles in Westerns, playing Wyatt Earp, but I discovered he also starred in the 1950 science fiction film Rocketship X-M (which also featured 1 TOBOR, the robot toy…)

Karl Malden's face was instantly recognizable; I've seen him in many films.  He's probably most famous for his role in the 1954 film On the Waterfront, where he played a priest opposite Marlon Brando.

Here he plays a much lighter role, as a recently widowed Walter Lucas, who falls in love with Ms. Nettleton's character.  This part of the story arc is very much in the tradition of mistaken assumptions.  It is driven by his being identified as poor from flying in economy class, which disguises his multi-millionaire background.  There's much comic interplay from this plot device.

Then there is Karlheinz Böhm, who plays the German Baron Franz Von Elzingen.  Böhm is another recognizable star, who I first saw in the 1962 stop-motion Cinerama movie,T he Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm, playing one of the brothers.  Here he plays a Baron whose family has fallen on hard times, who is enticed/ forced into smuggling stolen diamonds.

This causes much trouble for his relationship with Ms. Hart's character.  However, this film is far too light and airy to dwell on the darkness of international crime, so he hands himself in to attain true love.

Finally, it was a pleasure to see Richard Wattis, a well known British character actor who has appeared in such films as the 1954, The Belles of St. Trinian's, in a supporting role as an airline manager. 

In sum, Come Fly With Me has a stellar cast.  Also, the cinematography while at times routine, produces iconic images that encapsulates the jet set age, which I imagine will be copied in future films. As they say in Britain, worth a punt.

A final note: again, by no stretch of the imagination can Come Fly With Me be considered science fiction today.  Nevertheless, one can't help but muse how the times have changed to make it thus.

For example, twenty years ago jet engines were the stuff of science fiction.  A little over fifteen years ago, transatlantic flight was not only new, but also arduous with flights taken fifteen or more hours to cross the Atlantic.

Now, transatlantic flight has become routine, even if it is mostly for the wealthy.  It is the stuff of current movies.  It is something you and I could do…after pinching sufficient pence.  Just you wait.  In twenty years, they'll be making films about commercial space travel — and they will be documentaries.




[March 16, 1963] Red Comes Knocking (The Day Mars Invaded Earth)

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, the deadline to vote is tonight! Please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo. ]


by Lorelei Marcus

The idea that there might be life on Mars has been around for a while now. When I say the word "Martian" most people automatically picture a little green alien with a big, bulbous head. However, this vision is merely a fictional caricature of an alien — we know it's not real. But what if there is life on Mars? Perhaps these Martians are beyond what we can imagine visually, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. For all we know, mars could be populated with vast civilizations. On top of that, if there is life on Mars, then how would they react to us humans? Well, luckily, all of these questions have been answered, not by a scientist, but by the newest movie to hit the box office: The Day Mars Invaded Earth.

Going into this movie, neither me or my father had very high hopes, though we figured as long as the movie didn't literally have 'bottom' in the title, we were probably going to be okay (q.v. Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea). Luckily, this movie exceeded our expectations, and we were pleasantly surprised with a thrilling horror-esque mystery. As my dad exclaimed at one point in the film, it was almost like a long Twilight Zone episode.

Our film begins with a shot of a small rover exploring Mars. However, something goes wrong, and the rover catches fire and explodes. Then we are introduced to our main character, Dr. Fielding, the lead scientist on the Mars exploration project. After the stress of the recent rover failure, he decides to go home and visit his family. The house the family was living in at the time was a massive mansion estate, adding to the almost ghost-story feel of the movie. As the movie goes forward, Dr. Fielding and his family quickly start realizing something is wrong. People aren't acting like themselves, they're appearing in two places at once, and there's even a strange accidental death. It isn't long before the Doctor realizes this is all the work of invaders from Mars assuming the forms of other humans, and devises a plan to try and defeat the aliens to save himself and his family.


Martians scan the brain of Dr. Fielding…or a bug ran into the camera

The Day Mars Invaded Earth delivers a very tense (if not exactly taut) and suspenseful mystery with an unexpected twist at the end. The cinematography was excellent, very dynamic. It was particularly neat to see how they managed the special effects when a character and their duplicate were both on screen (accomplished with split screen and body doubles). The acting was also great, very emotional. The story was thrilling and complex, keeping you on the edge of your seat until the very end. I think some may be disappointed by the ending, because it is unexpected, and certainly not "Hollywood," but I think it adds to the movie. It's a movie that gives you a lot to think about, long after the movie is over, quite similar to Panic in Year Zero.

This movie was very enjoyable to watch. Both an intriguing mystery and intense story helped it become an incredibly satisfying film. I give The Day Mars Invaded Earth 4 out of 5 stars. This movie perhaps isn't for everyone, but I felt it told the story it was trying to tell very well. If you are a fan of horror, sci-fi, or mystery, I recommend this movie.

This is the Young Traveler, signing off.


by Gideon Marcus

I think the Young Traveler has done a fine job catching the feel and broad strokes of the film.  I just wanted to add a little commentary.  The opening of The Day Mars Invaded Earth sets a tone of verisimilitude with its reasonably accurate visual and verbal space vocabulary.  The probe that goes to Mars is a Mariner, presumably of the same series as Mariner 2, which just flew past Venus.  There is a model of the spacecraft in Dr. Fielding's office, and it is a Block 2 Ranger, the kind designed to hit the Moon and deposit a scientific package. 

Just as the Block 1 Mariner was adapted for the Venus flight, it makes sense that a Block 2 would be used to go to Mars.  I don't think that's what's actually planned, but for a movie made last year, it was an excellent guess.  It is also launched with an Atlas — also accurate.  An Atlas-Agena launched Mariner 2.

On to the movie, itself, The Day Mars Invaded Earth impresses because it takes the time to develop its characters.  We get to know the Fieldings and understand the strain his job has put on their marriage.  I also appreciated that the Fieldings talk to each other, communicating the strange apparitions they've seen, believing one another, and using the knowledge to very quickly deduce what's happening to them. 

While Director/Producer Maury Dexter, a newish face at schlock-house American International Pictures, clearly didn't have much of a budget to work with, nevertheless, his direction and the cinematography keep the movie from looking cheap.  The beautiful estate on which the bulk of the film is shot doesn't hurt, either.  It helps that stars Kent Taylor and Marie Windsor are veterans (even if they tend to avoid the A-flicks).  Their performances never induce the cringes I'd expected walking into the theater.

In the end, The Day Mars Invaded Earth delivers far more ghost story than sf flick, and you certainly won't see rubber suited Mars-mooks.  Nevertheless, it does make for a decent 69 minutes of entertainment, which is a lot more than I was expecting.  Three stars.




[March 14, 1963] Rising Stars and Unseen Enemies (Reginald Le Borg's Diary of a Madman)


by Rosemary Benton

It feels as though, no sooner had the curtain fell and the lights came up on February's horror/fantasy gem, The Raven, that the film reel snapped to life with another genre-crossing macabre film. While last month's movie was a light, dry and sardonic comedy with a vaguely medieval setting and a cast of horror movie icons, Diary of a Madman, steps forward with a much more sobering aesthetic.

In my efforts to reengage with modern science fiction after a long break, Diary of a Madman, a loose reimagining of the 1887 horror/science-fiction short story by French author Guy de Maupassant entitled“The Horla," is a fitting film to follow last month's choice. 

Producer and screenplay writer, Robert Kent, starts the movie off with a view of a crowded cemetery during a Catholic funeral. The recently deceased body of Vincent Price's character, Magistrate Simon Cordier, is blessed and then lowered into the ground. Given the faces and impatience of the guests, the audience can surmise that there was a lot of unfinished business left following Cordier's passing.

At the behest of Cordier prior to his premature death, his private diary is read aloud before a small group of funeral attendees immediately after the graveside ceremony. From here the origin of Cordier's madness at the hands of an invisible being named the Horla is made known. Ultimately Cordier implores the audience of his faithful servants, colleagues and friends to heed his death as a warning, and to act now to learn more and defend against other such beings that may exist out there in the wider world.

It is completely understandable why Robert Kent needed to take liberal creative license with the story of Cordier and the Horla that held his mind captive. Within the original 1887 short story, there is very little dialogue or many coherent lengthy scenes which could be considered prime material for a theatrical performance. Often, Guy de Maupassant allows his protagonist to go on at length, as one would in a diary, about tangential thoughts, theories and philosophies. It's interesting and works beautifully as a train-of-thought discourse regarding the protagonist's fear of going insane.

But where Guy de Maupassant can go on for pages about the building fear felt in the physical manifestations of the Horla's power, Vincent Price must convey the same screaming terror in a few seconds with looks and posture alone. It's reasonable, therefore, that a more fleshed out story would have to be developed in place of the internal monologues of a seemingly schedule-less upperclass gentleman going about his daily life on his estate. Enter the married model whose bust Cordier sculpts, the jealous husband of said model, the threat of public scandal should the magistrate run off with such a lower class woman, and on top of all this, the masterminding, murderous, shapeless entity determined to use Cordier for some unknown, evil end. 

The casting of the ever popular Vincent Price as the lead makes sense in terms of marketing, but I have to unfortunately pan his acting in this movie. Price has been incredibly prolific recently, starring in eleven movies between 1960's House of Usher and this, the year's second Price film. He's cultivated an image that works very well with classy Victorian gentlemen in horror melodramas, and odd, but charming characters in action movies. However, the role of Simon Cordier would have been much better suited to an actor with… dare I say… more range.

The heart and intensity of Guy de Maupassant's protagonist lie in the whiplash emotions that crack back and forth in his mind. He is written as a highly emotive character who is often taken aback at the inexplicable things he is being forced to feel due to the influence of the Horla. When one looks at the face of Vincent Price during scenes such as the floating rose or the breaking of the Horla's spell upon the sight of a cross, you see concern, confusion and shock, but not the true, deep down, freezing cold animal fear that Guy de Maupassant describes.

Thankfully there is a saving talent in the form of the lovely Nancy Kovack. Where Price falls short in the expression of an emotionally manipulated person, Kovack shines bright as a character who is a skillful, emotive manipulator. The real reason to become invested in the plot of Diary of a Madman has to be, hands down, Kovack's character, Odette Mallotte DuClasse. With her wide range of expressions and a deeply personal performance, Kovack gives Odette a painful and human background. A character that would be otherwise cookie-cutter cliché came to life via her acting talent.

Where other actresses would play Odette simply as a two timing gold digger, Kovack gives her an evolution that leads up to her resigned, angry admission of marrying Magistrate Cordier for his money. First, she in entrepreneurial in selling her services as a model within an art gallery displaying paintings for which she has sat. Then, she is knowledgable about portraiture and offers suggestions for how Cordier could sculpt her. She is a confident negotiator who pushes Cordier hard to continue employing her as a model for future projects. For the money she could bring into her starving-artist household she is flirtatiously willing to entertain the proposition of being a companion to Cordier, but it is the scene wherein Cordier proposes marriage that Kovack reveals her character's complexity. Within half a second, and with at least three versions of surprise and uncertainty, Kovack shows shock rather than devious glee at the offer. She quickly recovers and hides her disbelief, but for disbelief to be there in the first part is due undoubtedly to Kovack's full understanding of her character's situation.

All in all, I have to give Robert Kent credit for the interesting story of love and murder that he merges with a select few scenes from the original Guy de Maupassant story. Under the direction of Universal Studios veteran Reginald Le Borg I believe that each actor played to their strengths in Diary of a Madman, although some shone more brightly others. If one is already familiar with “The Horla," I believe they will be more amused than joyous at the adaptation. But given the unique source material I would recommend that anyone should give Diary of a Madman a chance. You may not leave as terrified of the unknown as you would have been reading “The Horla," but at least you can enjoy the performance of Nancy Kovack. In summation I would give Diary of a Madman a lukewarm three and a half stars out of five.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




[January 20, 1963] The Big Freeze (news from a UK fan)

[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


By Ashley R. Pollard

The new year has brought snow. Lots of snow. So much snow that parts of Britain have been brought to a standstill. I thought last year was bad, but this year puts last years snow into perspective, in much the same way as downing a yard of ale as compared to a good old British pint of beer does.

And just to make things clear, when I say snow, I don't mean a few fluffy flakes falling on London.

Parts of the country have been cut-off by the amount of snow that has fallen here. A blizzard left up to 20 feet of snow in some places. The BBC news shows images of the sort of thing one might see in some Hollywood extravaganza set in the Antarctic wastes.

One almost expects to see penguins or Polar bears. I could easily imagine Polar bears swimming here to enjoy our climate. It's a snowpocalypse I tell you. Send food parcels now! 

OK, I jest, but not by much.

Really, it started snowing on Boxing Day and has continued to snow pretty much until now. A waterfall has frozen in Wales, I know Niagara Falls freezes, but this is Britain, we haven't experienced these conditions for a very long time. How long ago you might ask? The Met Office says this has been the coldest January since 1814.

That's a long time ago.

Also, the sea in Whitstable Bay froze. The sea water froze out to four miles at Dunkirk. I knew theoretically it can happen, but…

As I'm writing this, the forecast for tonight is for temperatures to drop to minus eight degrees Fahrenheit. Fortunately, I work and live in London. So I may moan and grumble, but I don't have to face the hardships of those people living in the countryside cut-off by snow drifts.

But, there is a promise of a thaw in a few days time. I can only hope that the Met Office is correct in their prediction.

I'm sure they're right, after all, Cliff Richard's new musical film, Summer Holiday, premiered the other week in London. Surely this presages warmer weather to come? Cliff Richard and The Shadows are a popular young persons band, for those who have not heard of him or them.

This is, as always, only the backdrop to the wonderful world of the science fiction, like myself and my friends in The London Circle.

Oh, what jolly japes and fun were had as we sat drinking, discussing the mood of the general population. We fans talked about stories set in snowy wastelands. Frankenstein was mentioned as the prime setting. Lovecraft's, At the Mountains of Madness, was also deemed germane.

And, of course, the horror of starvation as food ran out with the railways and roads snowbound. SF fans have a great imaginations, and the amazing ability to create stories from whole cloth. It was almost like we were re-enacting the Shelley, Byron, and Polidori's competition to write a scary story. 

Then somebody mentioned we'd all have to live by eating pork pies supplied by Brian Burgess. That leavened the tone of the conversation, making everyone present burst out in laughter. A laughter with a slight hollow ring to it, as anyone who has survived the experience one of eating one of Brian's famous pork pies can attest.

Brian, a rather large man, who can appear intimidating when you first meet him, can best be described as one of fandoms great eccentrics. Which is saying something when it comes to fandom. Though, after thinking about it for a moment, British people in general can be rather eccentric. Or so my American friends tell me.

I blame the war, but war stories will have to wait for another time.

Last month I mention That Was The Week That Was. This month, in a more serious vein, befitting the serious weather we're facing, another news show I recommend people to try and catch, if they can. The commercial broadcaster, Grenada Television, launched The World in Action. An unorthodox current affairs programme that investigates more thoroughly what That Was The Week That Was mocks.

Already there are rumblings in the House as the news team's probing into underhand dealing and corruption threaten to expose the great and the good. I shall be making time to watch The World in Action and report back.

And on another serious note, the leader of the Labour Party, Hugh Gaitskell, died suddenly at the age of 56 from heart failure. His sudden passing has shocked the establishment, being labelled a national tragedy.

He was certainly a more moderate politician than some of his more left wing party colleagues, and I admired his appeals to reason. Though my psychological background always makes me doubt that such appeals will be effective. In the words taken from the short story collection, Assignment in Eternity, Robert Heinlein said, "Man is not a rational animal; he is a rationalizing animal."

I couldn't agree more.

So that's it for another month. I promise to wrap up warm and stay safe. You do the same, please.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Check your mail for instructions…]




[January 5, 1963] The Trial on Trial


by Victoria Lucas

Have you been following the talk about Orson Welles’s latest movie, one he personally wrote and edited?  While not precisely science fiction, it does overlap thematically, enough so that I'm certain you'll enjoy a summary.

I was fortunate enough to catch the interview with him by Huw Wheldon on the BBC, or “The Beeb” as people across the Pond say.  First off, Welles talks about changes he made from the novel by Franz Kafka.  He says the main character (Josef K.) “doesn’t really deteriorate, certainly doesn’t surrender at the end” like the character in the novel.  That’s true, more or less, but listen carefully to Anthony Perkins playing K. at the very end and ask yourself why he doesn’t throw what he is reaching for.

I know, I know, what am I doing writing a review for a movie that hasn’t been released in the States yet.  Well, it was released in Paris, and quite a lot of people had something to do with the production and showing.  I hate to tell you this, but a copy somehow found its way into the hands of a friend of mine.  I can’t tell you any names, and I know no more than the name of my friend.  The copy is a bit, all right, under par, not like seeing it in a movie house, but it’s exciting to see the film many months before I possibly could have otherwise.  The earliest premiere in the US is in NYC, and I stand a snowball’s chance in hell of making that or any showing not in Tucson or Phoenix.  I would prefer to watch a non-bootleg copy and probably will sooner or later, but beggars can’t be choosers.

When the beginning title hits the screen, the recently discovered (1958) and orchestrated “Adagio in G Minor” by Tomas Albinoni begins a beat of what I can’t help but think of as a dirge before we see the opening parable, done in something called “pinscreen” graphics.  The title, by the way, is most remarkable for the fact that there is no trial in “The Trial.”

Of course we must keep in mind that a German word for "trial," the title of the film and the Franz Kafka book that “inspired” it (according to Welles), is Der Prozess.  Also spelled "Process," this word in German means "process, trial, litigation, lawsuit, court case."  There are other words for "judgment, tribunal, trial": "das Gericht," which at least has the word "right" in it; and "die Verhandlung," meaning "negotiation, hearing, trial." 

It turns out there are numerous words that might apply to what we in the US would call a "trial" by judge and/or jury or any litigation: there are also "die Gerichtsverhandlung," "die Instanz" (which also means "authority, court."  Why did Kafka choose "der Prozess," and why are some of the words feminine rather than masculine (like Prozess) or even neutral?  These are fine points of German as a language that I cannot reach from my one college semester of German.  It just appears to me that German has as many words for legal proceedings as the Eskimos are said to have for snow.  However, in this case the word "process" in English is fitting, because we never see a trial, only one hearing, during which the protagonist, Josef K. (with only an initial and not a full name, as if the author was protecting a real person) speaks and brands himself as a troublemaker.  (All legal proceedings in this alternate system of law are supposed to be secret.)

What we see in this film is a process indeed, a destructive process during which an innocent is exposed to corruption and chaos he never dreamed existed.  The book makes it much clearer that the system that crushes Josef K. is not related to the uniformed police and visible court system.  In fact, near the end, as K. is being frog-marched to a place of execution, he aids his captors in avoiding a policeman to whom he might have complained to prevent what was, after all, an abduction.  This network is underground, with courtrooms and file rooms in attics throughout the unnamed city.  Those enmeshed in it are “The Accused” as well as (illegal) Advocates and various officers and employees of the “court,” not to mention families who move their furniture and abandon their flats so that hearings can occur.  One character remarks (in both the book and film), “There are court offices in almost every attic” and “Everything belongs to the court.”

Welles changes this secrecy and underground nature to connect “the law” to the visible law courts by having K. exit a massive public building (actually in Rome or Zagreb), having entered it through a tenement at the back, in line with his view that “this is now 1962, and we’ve made the film in 1962.” During this century the classism and racism that were beneath public consciousness but engraved in the law, as well as officially tolerated or encouraged vigilantism, came into the open in a big way, like the difference between law practice in a makeshift courtroom and that in Grecian-style marble halls supported by uniformed officers of court and police. 

The author of the original book, Das Process was killed by an early 20th-century epidemic we now call tuberculosis, dying at age 40 in Austria.  (I am tempted to say, “died like a dog,” as K. characterizes his own murder or, in the logic of the book, execution.) Born Jewish in the kingdom of Bohemia, Kafka was a lawyer who worked for insurance companies.  This book would have been destroyed had his executor followed his instructions, but instead the order of the written chapters (mostly finished, apparently—I saw only one chapter labeled “unfinished”) were determined by his editor/executor and the book was originally published in 1925, a year after Kafka’s death.  Welles mentioned the Holocaust in the BBC interview as his reason for changing the ending, choosing “the only possible solution” (rather than the “Final” one) to negate the choices made “by a Jewish intellectual before the advent of Hitler.” So I feel justified in seeing much that relates to racism, not to mention sexism and classism.  Kafka was reportedly a socialist with some tendencies toward anarchism. 

According to Welles, the movie was filmed partly in Zabreb, Yugoslavia (exteriors), with most interiors in Paris (the Gare d’Orsay and a Paris studio), and some exteriors in Rome.  Welles would have filmed in Czechoslovakia, but Kafka’s work is banned there.  The last scene was shot in Yugoslavia, and so were the scenes with 1,500 desks, typewriters, and workers in a huge room for which they could locate no place but the Zabreb “industrial fair grounds” (scenes at K’s workplace, which do not correspond with the descriptions in the book). 

The partly abandoned Gare d’Orsay, in contrast to the other locations, was a huge seminal find for Welles, one that appeared to him at the end of a long day in which he learned that sets in Zagreb could not be finished in time to make his schedule or possibly even the film, if he could not find another location quickly.  Originally the Palais d’Orsay, subsequently a railroad station with platforms that became too short for long-distance use, the station was mostly abandoned, but the building included a 370-room hotel.  Welles quickly changed his plans from sets that dissolved and disappeared to one that was “full of the hopelessness of the struggle against bureaucracy” because “waiting for a paper to be filled is like waiting for a train.”

The gossip is that producer Andrew Salkind agreed to underwrite Welles’s project only if he could find a book to base it on that was in the public domain.  They both thought this work by Kafka was such a book, but discovered that they were wrong and had to pay for the use of the story, reducing the budget for the film.  Several people are credited with the writing, with Welles himself reading the titles at the end, but he says he wrote as well as directed and acted in it.  Rumor also says he wanted Jackie Gleason (yes, “Honeymooners”) to play the role he played, that of a lawyer Kafka named Dr. Huld (German for “grace” or “favor”) but that Welles christened “Hastler” (hassler? what the lawyer should do to the courts but not to the clients?).

There are some problems with Welles’s editing, the main one in my view concerning a scene with a wall of computers at the bank where K. is a middle-rank executive.  As it is, the scene is quite pointless and appears to exist only to show how up-to-date the film is compared to the 1925 novel.  However, it was originally a 10-minute scene in which Katina Paxinou (a face on the cutting-room floor) uses the computers to foretell K’s future (wrongly…OK, mostly wrongly).  It was “cut on the eve of the Paris premiere,” according to my notes on the BBC interview—in other words done in haste and, as in the proverb, made waste, but Welles clearly felt there was something wrong with the scene and saved us from most of it. 

Nevertheless, on the whole Welles felt good about “The Trial.” In the BBC interview he summed it thusly, “So say what you like, but ‘The Trial’ is the best film I have ever made.” I’m not sure I agree, but it’s definitely worth watching, even taking the time to compare it with the book.  (But beware of any resulting depression.)

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Check your mail for instructions…]