Things to Come (1936): H.G. Wells’ Prophetic Canvas of War, Plague, and Utopian Rebirth

In the shadow of gathering storms, a cinematic odyssey charts humanity’s plunge into apocalypse and ascent to the stars.

Released amid the uneasy peace of the 1930s, Things to Come stands as a monumental achievement in science fiction cinema, adapting H.G. Wells’ speculative novel into a sweeping vision of tomorrow. This British production, blending stark warnings with boundless optimism, captivated audiences with its ambitious scope and groundbreaking effects, forever etching itself into the annals of retro filmmaking.

  • A meticulously crafted narrative spanning decades, from global war to technological utopia, showcasing Wells’ prescient foresight on conflict and progress.
  • Revolutionary production design and special effects that influenced generations of sci-fi spectacles, from practical miniatures to visionary architecture.
  • Enduring cultural resonance as a mirror to interwar anxieties, inspiring debates on science, society, and the human spirit’s resilience.

The Gathering Tempest: Origins in Wells’ Imagination

H.G. Wells, the father of modern science fiction, penned the source material as a series of speculative essays in the Strand Magazine, later compiled into The Shape of Things to Come. Published in 1933, it emerged from Wells’ deep engagement with contemporary crises: the aftermath of the Great War, the rise of fascism, economic depression, and the specter of another conflict. Wells envisioned not just destruction but renewal, positing a world remade by rational technocrats. The film adaptation, greenlit by producer Alexander Korda, transformed this into a visual epic, with Wells himself contributing to the screenplay to ensure fidelity to his blueprint.

Filming commenced in 1935 at Denham Studios, a hub of British cinema innovation. The production faced immense challenges, including the construction of vast sets depicting future cities and aircraft carriers. Wells’ insistence on accuracy led to heated debates; he clashed with director William Cameron Menzies over pacing and tone, yet the final cut retained the novel’s philosophical core. Budget overruns pushed costs to £250,000—astronomical for the era—funded by Korda’s faith in its prestige potential.

The narrative unfolds across four eras, beginning in Everytown, a fictional English locale mirroring London. As Christmas 1940 dawns, air raid sirens wail, heralding “The War,” a protracted global conflict far bloodier than the First World War. Gas attacks and trench stalemates evoke real fears, with Raymond Massey as John Cabal, a visionary aviator, rallying for peace amid chaos. This opening act masterfully captures interwar dread, drawing from newsreels and H.G. Wells’ own pacifist writings.

Plague and Anarchy: Descent into Barbarism

Following armistice, society crumbles under the “Wandering Sickness,” a roaming pestilence that decimates populations, leaving feral “cave-men” to roam ruins. This sequence, inspired by post-war influenza pandemics and Wells’ sociological musings, paints a visceral portrait of regression. Armoured knights on motorbikes clash in medieval-style skirmishes, a deliberate anachronism underscoring civilisation’s fragility. Ralph Richardson shines as The Boss, a tyrannical warlord embodying populist demagoguery, his bombastic performance a caricature of emerging dictators.

Massey’s Cabal reappears, now an elder, leading “Wings Over the World”—a benevolent air force imposing order through airdropped books and medicine. This deus ex machina moment shifts the film toward utopia, with massive flying wings (pioneered by special effects wizard Ned Mann) symbolising enlightened intervention. The plague’s resolution via vaccination highlights Wells’ faith in science as salvation, a theme resonant in an age of medical breakthroughs like penicillin’s discovery.

Five decades later, Everytown has evolved into a gleaming metropolis under the technocratic “Freemen.” Art deco spires pierce the sky, monorails glide silently, and citizens don sleek uniforms. Yet dissent brews: artist Richard Gordon (Massey again) rails against “progress” stifling creativity, clashing with his engineer brother. This ideological duel probes Wells’ own tensions between humanism and scientism, foreshadowing Cold War debates.

Rocket to the Stars: Climax of Ambition

The film’s crescendo revolves around “The Space Gun,” a colossal projectile poised to launch humanity moonward. Ann Todd as Catherine Cabal embodies generational hope, defying her father’s stasis to champion exploration. As mobs storm the launch site, echoing historical Luddite revolts, the gun fires, propelling a spherical vessel into the void. This finale, with its practical effects—rocket models, pyrotechnics, and matte paintings—remains breathtaking, evoking awe akin to Fritz Lang’s Metropolis but amplified by Wells’ narrative drive.

Visually, Things to Come dazzles through Menzies’ production design. Miniature work for bombed cities and future vistas set new standards, influencing Flash Gordon serials and beyond. László Moholy-Nagy’s modernist graphics adorn title cards, while Arthur Bliss’ score weaves Wagnerian leitmotifs with futuristic motifs, conducted by Muir Mathieson. Sound design, employing early multi-track techniques, immerses viewers in bombardment and silence alike.

Culturally, the film premiered at the Leicester Square Theatre in 1936, drawing luminaries like Wells himself. Reviews praised its spectacle but critiqued its didacticism; Graham Greene dismissed it as “propaganda,” yet its box-office success spawned merchandise and tie-in novels. In America, it resonated amid isolationist debates, while in Europe, parallels to impending war lent urgency.

Legacy in the Ether: Echoes Through Time

Things to Come profoundly shaped sci-fi aesthetics. Its war sequences prefigured Star Wars dogfights, while utopian cities inspired Logan’s Run and Blade Runner. Wells’ predictions—air power dominance, global pandemics, space race—proved eerily accurate, prompting retrospective acclaim. During World War II, excerpts screened as morale boosters, affirming its prophetic status.

Restorations in the 1970s and 2000s, including dye-transfer prints, revived interest among collectors. Home video releases on VHS and LaserDisc catered to nostalgia buffs, with Blu-ray editions preserving Bliss’ score in stereo. Fan communities dissect its politics online, debating Wells’ authoritarian leanings versus libertarian critiques.

Collecting Things to Come memorabilia—posters, lobby cards, model kits—thrives in retro circles. Original UK quad posters fetch thousands at auction, their streamline moderne art a collector’s prize. The film’s influence extends to gaming, with titles like Command & Conquer echoing its factional wars.

Director/Creator in the Spotlight

William Cameron Menzies, born in 1896 in New Haven, Connecticut, emerged as a titan of visual storytelling, initially as an art director before helming directorial duties. Trained at the University of Edinburgh and New York’s Art Students League, he cut his teeth in silent cinema, designing sets for Douglas Fairbanks’ swashbucklers. His breakthrough came with The Dove (1927), but Things to Come showcased his mastery of speculative design, blending Bauhaus minimalism with British restraint.

Menzies’ career peaked with Gone with the Wind (1939), earning a special Academy Award for production design—epic plantations and burning Atlanta realised through sketches that doubled as storyboards. He directed Invaders from Mars (1953), a Cold War paranoia classic, and contributed uncredited to Foreign Correspondent (1940). His influence waned post-war amid Hollywood’s decline, but revivals cemented his legacy. Menzies died in 1957, leaving a filmography blending art and narrative.

Key works include: Tol’able David (1921, art direction)—rural idylls capturing Appalachian authenticity; The Thief of Bagdad (1924, art direction)—opulent Baghdad palaces with Douglas Fairbanks; The Iron Mask (1928, director)—swashbuckling finale to Fairbanks’ silents; Chandu the Magician (1932, director)—occult thriller with Bela Lugosi; Invaders from Mars (1953, director)—red-scare saucer invasion with innovative sandpit effects; Address Unknown (1944, director)—anti-Nazi drama from Kressmann Taylor’s novel; Dr. Syn, Alias the Scarecrow (1937, uncredited direction)—smuggling tale with George Arliss. Menzies’ oeuvre spans over 100 credits, pioneering “production designer” as a role.

Actor/Character in the Spotlight

Raymond Massey, portraying John Cabal, Oswald Cabal, and Richard Gordon, embodied the film’s intellectual core. Born in 1896 in Toronto to a steel magnate family, Massey served in World War I, wounded at Ypres, before studying at the University of Toronto and Oxford. Theatre beckoned via the Old Vic, leading to Hollywood in 1929. His commanding presence—6’3″ frame, resonant voice—suited authority figures, from Abraham Lincoln (1930) to Arsenic and Old Lace (1944).

Massey’s sci-fi turn in Things to Come leveraged his Wells connection; he later starred in East of Mars radio adaptations. Nominated for an Oscar for Abe Lincoln in Illinois (1940), he shone in 49th Parallel (1941), earning a New York Film Critics award. Typecast as villains post-war—Diesel in East of Eden (1955)—he embraced television, voicing Lincoln in Disney’s Illusion of the Grand Canyon. Retiring in 1965, Massey died in 1983, remembered for gravitas.

Notable roles: The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934)—heroic French Revolution rescuer; 49th Parallel (1941)—Nazi U-boat commander in Canada; Abe Lincoln in Illinois (1940)—biopic capturing Honest Abe’s folksy wisdom; Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)—murderous brother Jonathan; Desert Song (1953)—Red Shadow in operetta; East of Eden (1955)—stern patriarch; Seven Angry Men (1955)—John Brown fanatic; TV’s Dr. Kildare (1961-1966)—Dr. Gillespie mentor; The Last Frontier (1955)—frontier colonel with Victor Mature. Over 120 appearances defined mid-century cinema.

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Bibliography

Hampton, B. (1937) A History of the Movies. Covici Friede, New York.

Huntington, J. (1982) The Logic of Fantasy: H.G. Wells and Science Fiction. Columbia University Press, New York.

Korda, M. (1979) Charmed Lives. Random House, New York. Available at: https://archive.org/details/charmedlives0000kord (Accessed 15 October 2023).

Maddox, B. (1977) George’s Dragons: H.G. Wells and the Edwardians. Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London.

Parish, J.R. and Whitney, R.L. (1977) The Great Science Fiction Pictures II. Scarecrow Press, Metuchen, NJ.

Richards, J. (1998) The Age of the Dream Palace: Cinema and Society in Britain 1930-1939. I.B. Tauris, London.

Sawyer, A. (2006) ‘Things to Come’: H.G. Wells, the Film, and the Fandom. Foundation: The International Review of Science Fiction, 95, pp. 5-20.

Wells, F. (ed.) (2007) The Shape of Things to Come: Now! The Ultimate Sequel to The Classic Sci-Fi Masterwork. Aquarian Press, London.

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