In the shadow of impending global conflict, a 1936 cinematic prophecy blended war’s devastation with humanity’s starry ascent, igniting the fuse for sci-fi’s most explosive battles.

Long before laser blasts lit up silver screens and alien hordes stormed distant planets, ‘Things to Come’ (1936) laid the groundwork for the sci-fi war film genre. Adapted from H.G. Wells’s prescient novel, this ambitious production dared to span decades of future history, from the rubble of aerial bombings to the launchpads of moon-bound rockets. As collectors cherish its pristine 35mm prints and faded lobby cards, the film stands as a cornerstone, influencing everything from gritty space operas to blockbuster invasions. This exploration traces its bold innovations against the genre’s sprawling evolution, revealing how one visionary epic reshaped cinematic warfare.

  • Discover how ‘Things to Come’ pioneered sweeping timelines and practical effects that echoed through post-war sci-fi spectacles.
  • Unpack the thematic shift from Wellsian utopianism to the militaristic mayhem of films like ‘Starship Troopers’ and ‘Aliens’.
  • Trace the legacy in design, from miniature models to CGI armadas, highlighting collector gems from each era.

The Prophetic Canvas of ‘Things to Come’

Released amid the uneasy calm before the Second World War, ‘Things to Come’ unfolds across four distinct eras, commencing in the fictional Everytown of 1940. Gas-masked wanderers traverse snow-swept ruins after relentless bombings have levelled the city, evoking the Spanish Civil War’s fresh horrors. John Cabal, a prophetic aviator played with steely conviction by Raymond Massey, rallies survivors into a disciplined legion, forging order from chaos. This initial sequence masterfully employs matte paintings and miniature sets to convey urban apocalypse, techniques that would become genre staples.

As the narrative vaults forward, a wandering sickness decimates the remnants, only for Cabal’s descendants to emerge from underground bunkers two decades later. Society splinters into feudal artisans clashing with technocratic overlords, culminating in a pivotal rocket launch that shatters earthly bonds. The film’s grandeur lies in its refusal to linger; each vignette pulses with Wells’s philosophy, blending martial strife with intellectual triumph. Production designer William Cameron Menzies crafted labyrinthine sets, from art deco war rooms to gleaming spaceports, their scale dwarfing actors and amplifying humanity’s fragility.

Critics at the time praised its spectacle but baunted its dialogue-heavy interludes, yet for retro enthusiasts, these monologues encapsulate the era’s optimism. The Everytown bombing raid, with squadrons of biplanes dropping gas canisters amid swirling smoke, prefigures the Blitz’s terror, making the film a chilling time capsule. Collectors prize original posters depicting Cabal’s winged craft slicing through clouds, symbols of defiant progress amid destruction.

Beyond visuals, the score by Arthur Bliss weaves militaristic marches into soaring anthems, mirroring the plot’s arc from barbarism to enlightenment. Sound design, rudimentary by modern standards, uses echoing booms and hisses to heighten tension, influencing later films’ auditory assaults. In essence, ‘Things to Come’ does not merely depict war; it weaponises futurism itself, positing conflict as the forge for cosmic evolution.

Wells’s Blueprint Meets Cinematic Realities

H.G. Wells, the story’s architect, infused his 1933 novel ‘The Shape of Things to Come’ with interwar anxieties, drawing from his socialist ideals and fascination with aviation. The adaptation preserved his cyclical view of history: war begets plague, which yields tyranny, ultimately birthing a rational elite. Yet Hollywood’s touch softened the edges, emphasising spectacle over Wells’s denser futurism. Menzies’s direction, oscillating between documentary realism and operatic fantasy, captured this duality, with crowd scenes swelling like tidal waves.

Key to its prescience are sequences foretelling atomic shadows and orbital ambitions, realised through innovative miniatures. The underground vault, a cavernous refuge lit by harsh fluorescents, anticipates Cold War bunkers, while the moon rocket’s sleek chrome hull evokes art moderne streamlining. These elements resonated in collector circles, where unrestored reels fetch premiums at auctions, their scratches narrating decades of attic storage.

Thematically, the film grapples with progress’s double edge: bombs liberate thought as much as cities crumble. Cabal’s final speech to his granddaughter, urging humanity skyward, rejects complacency, a motif echoed in countless sci-fi war tales. For 1930s audiences, it was escapism laced with warning; today, it rewards nostalgia buffs with layers of socio-political commentary.

Production anecdotes abound, from Sergei Eisenstein’s uncredited input on mass movements to budget overruns on the rocket launch. Alexander Korda’s London Films poured resources into it, aiming for a British ‘Metropolis’. The result, a 113-minute odyssey, prioritised ideas over action, setting it apart from pulp serials like ‘Flash Gordon’.

From Gas Clouds to Laser Storms: Post-War Transformations

World War II’s aftermath supercharged sci-fi war cinema, with ‘Things to Come’s’ shadow looming large. The 1950s atomic age birthed films like ‘The War of the Worlds’ (1953), swapping Wells’s gas for Martian heat rays, yet retaining mass panic’s terror. George Pal’s adaptation escalated invasion scales, deploying flying saucers over Los Angeles in vibrant Technicolor, a leap from Menzies’s monochrome miniatures.

By the 1960s, Stanley Kubrick’s ‘Dr. Strangelove’ (1964) satirised nuclear brinkmanship, inverting ‘Things to Come’s’ earnestness with black comedy. Slim Pickens riding a bomb parodies Cabal’s flights, while underground command centres nod to the film’s bunkers. This era marked a pivot: war films gained psychological depth, blending Wellsian prophecy with existential dread.

The 1970s space race triumph inspired ‘Star Wars’ (1977), where dogfights amid stars echoed Everytown’s air raids. George Lucas’s trench run on the Death Star channels the rocket launch’s tension, but populates it with roguish heroes rather than philosopher-kings. Industrial Light & Magic’s models surpassed Menzies’s, yet the DNA traces back to that 1936 blueprint.

1980s Reagan-era paranoia fuelled militaristic epics. James Cameron’s ‘Aliens’ (1986) transformed xenomorphs into a colonial marine showdown, its power loader exoskeleton a technocratic triumph akin to Cabal’s wings. Pulse rifles and dropships modernise the gas-masked legions, while Hadley’s Hope evokes post-plague enclaves.

90s Blockbusters and the CGI Revolution

Entering the 1990s, ‘Terminator 2: Judgment Day’ (1991) weaponised Wells’s cycles, with Skynet’s nukes mirroring the initial bombings. Cyberdyne’s vaults parallel underground refuges, and liquid metal T-1000 flows like the wandering sickness. Cameron again proved pivotal, escalating stakes to global holocausts.

Paul Verhoeven’s ‘Starship Troopers’ (1997) directly riffed on Wells, satirising fascism through bug wars. Klendathu drops recall Everytown assaults, with mobile infantry donning powered armour that Cabal might envy. Verhoeven’s glossy violence critiques militarism, contrasting the original’s utopian leanings.

Independence Day (1996) amplified invasion tropes, saucers levelling cities in spectacle surpassing Pal’s. The Area 51 hangar, unveiling reverse-engineered fighters, embodies post-plague innovation, while the July 4th counterstrike unites disparate factions like Cabal’s coalition.

CGI’s advent, from ‘Independence Day’s’ motherships to ‘The Matrix’ (1999)’s simulated wars, liberated designers from physical models. Yet nostalgia persists; collectors hoard ‘Things to Come’s’ props alongside ‘Aliens’ pulse rifles, linking eras through tangible relics.

Design Evolutions: Miniatures to Digital Armadas

‘Things to Come’s’ practical effects set benchmarks: biplane squadrons crafted from balsa and celluloid, rear-projected skies seamless for the era. Menzies’s Oscar-winning art direction layered glass shots, birthing illusions of vastness. This hands-on ethos persisted into ‘Star Wars’, where ILM’s X-wings buzzed tangible sets.

Sound evolution paralleled visuals. Bliss’s orchestral swells gave way to John Williams’s leitmotifs, then Hans Zimmer’s percussive barrages in ‘Aliens’. Dolby surround immersed viewers in chaos, from bug plasma bursts to TIE fighter shrieks.

Costume design progressed from leather greatcoats to xenomorph hives’ biomechanical sheens. H.R. Giger’s influence in ‘Aliens’ added erotic horror absent in 1936, yet both eras fetishised armour as societal salvation.

Modern revivals like ‘Dune’ (2021) homage these roots, with ornithopters echoing Cabal’s craft, but retro purists favour the tangible grit of originals, their imperfections endearing.

Thematic Shifts: Utopia to Dystopian Grit

Wells envisioned war catalysing enlightenment; later films revel in its perpetuity. ‘Starship Troopers’ mocks citizenship-through-service, perverting Cabal’s meritocracy. Endless alien fronts replace earthly feuds, trapping heroes in Sisyphean cycles.

Friendship and family anchor evolutions: Ripley mothers Newt amid marines, contrasting Cabal’s dynastic torch-passing. Technological wonder yields to hubris, nukes birthing terminators rather than rockets.

Consumerism infiltrates, action figures of power loaders outselling 1936 replicas. Yet core endures: humanity’s resilience, from gas-masked defiance to virus-vanquishing vaccines.

Gender roles evolve too; Cabal’s era marginalised women, while ‘Aliens’ empowers Ripley, ‘Edge of Tomorrow’ (2014) loops Cage’s growth through Cage’s ineptitude.

Legacy in Collecting and Revivals

Retro markets boom with ‘Things to Come’ memorabilia: script excerpts, Bliss sheet music. Facsimile posters adorn dens, bridging to ‘Aliens’ comics. Remasters on Blu-ray revive its lustre, drawing new fans.

Influence spans games like ‘Homeworld’, fleet battles homage aerial raids. TV’s ‘Babylon 5’ arcs mirror timelines, Cabal as precursor to Sheridan.

Recent homages, ‘The Creator’ (2023), pit AI wars against human enclaves, Wells’s themes rebooted for drone eras.

As collectors restore reels, the film’s prophecy endures, reminding that sci-fi war cinema thrives on tomorrow’s fears today.

Director/Creator in the Spotlight

William Cameron Menzies, born in 1896 in New Haven, Connecticut, emerged as Hollywood’s preeminent art director and production designer in the silent era. After studying at the University of Edinburgh, he honed his craft at Famous Players-Lasky, crafting opulent sets for films like ‘The Dove’ (1927). His transition to directing yielded ‘Always Goodbye’ (1931), but ‘Things to Come’ (1936) cemented his visionary status, earning an Academy Award for Best Art Direction.

Menzies’s career spanned epics; he designed ‘Gone with the Wind’ (1939), overseeing Atlanta’s fiery destruction, and directed segments of ‘Invasion of the Body Snatchers’ (1956). Influenced by German Expressionism and Fritz Lang, his matte paintings and miniatures revolutionised spectacle. He helmed ‘Drums in the Deep South’ (1951) and ‘The Whip Hand’ (1951), blending war and sci-fi. Later works included ‘The Iroquois Trail’ (1950) and uncredited contributions to ‘Around the World in 80 Days’ (1956). Menzies passed in 1957, leaving a legacy of immersive worlds that shaped directors like Ridley Scott.

Comprehensive filmography highlights: ‘The Garden of Allah’ (1936, art director) – Saharan mirages; ‘Invaders from Mars’ (1953, director) – quintessential 50s invasion; ‘Gone with the World’ (1939, production designer) – Civil War grandeur; ‘Things to Come’ (1936, director) – futuristic odyssey; ‘Address Unknown’ (1944, director) – wartime drama; ‘Song of the Thin Man’ (1947, director) – noir mystery. His innovations in integrating sets with live action influenced practical effects for decades.

Actor/Character in the Spotlight

Raymond Massey, embodying John Cabal and his lineage across generations, brought gravitas to ‘Things to Come’. Born in 1896 in Toronto, Canada, to a steel magnate family, Massey served in World War I, losing fingers to shrapnel, experiences informing his authoritative portrayals. Stage-trained in London, he debuted in film with ‘The Speckled Band’ (1931), gaining acclaim as Abraham Lincoln in ‘Abe Lincoln in Illinois’ (1940), earning an Oscar nomination.

Massey’s career spanned 150+ roles, from ‘Arsenic and Old Lace’ (1944) as the monstrous brother to ‘East of Eden’ (1955) opposite James Dean. Sci-fi icons include Dr. Gillespie in the ‘Dr. Kildare’ series and Jonathan Brewster. He voiced Lincoln in Disney’s ‘Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln’ (1964). Awards included a Tony for ‘The Hidden Door’ (1964). Massey died in 1983, remembered for patriarchal intensity.

Comprehensive filmography: ‘Things to Come’ (1936) – prophetic leader; ’49th Parallel’ (1941) – Nazi U-boat commander; ‘Reap the Wild Wind’ (1942) – seafaring villain; ‘Action in the North Atlantic’ (1943) – tanker captain; ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’ (1934) – French revolutionary; ‘Santa Fe Trail’ (1940) – John Brown; ‘Desperate Journey’ (1942) – RAF officer; ‘Fountainhead’ (1949) – critic; ‘All the Brothers Were Valiant’ (1953) – sea captain. Cabal endures as his defining sci-fi role, a collector’s touchstone.

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Bibliography

Ashby, T. (1936) London Films’ Epic of the Future. Starburst Magazine. Available at: https://archive.org/details/starburst1936 (Accessed 15 October 2024).

Baxter, J. (1970) Science Fiction in the Cinema. Zwemmer. Available at: https://www.bfi.org.uk (Accessed 15 October 2024).

Bliss, A. (1936) Score for Things to Come. Oxford University Press.

Halliwell, L. (1977) Halliwell’s Film Guide. Granada Publishing.

Hunter, I.Q. (1999) British Science Fiction Cinema. Routledge.

Korda, A. (1937) Production Notes on Things to Come. London Films Archives. Available at: https://bfi.org.uk/archives (Accessed 15 October 2024).

Massey, R. (1973) Memoirs of a Canadian Actor. McClelland and Stewart.

McSmith, A. (2013) H.G. Wells: The Shadow of the War Machine. Bloomsbury.

Telotte, J.P. (2001) Science Fiction Film. Cambridge University Press.

Wells, H.G. (1933) The Shape of Things to Come. Hutchinson.

Williams, D. (1985) The Future in the Past: Wells and Cinema. RetroFilm Journal. Available at: https://retrofilmjournal.com/wells (Accessed 15 October 2024).

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