The Screengrab : metropolis

Clippy Strikes Back: The Scariest Technology In Cinema History! (Part One)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 20:00:00 GMT

This week, youngsters (and the young at heart) will be treated to the sight of a giant space robot tearing up San Francisco (in 3-D!) in Monsters vs. Aliens (click here for review).

But last week, something really scary happened: my computer completely shut down thanks to some nasty virus, leaving me completely laptop-less for three long, frightening days (right in the middle of SXSW!), during which time I realized I no longer have the ability to think straight, remember things, communicate or even feed and dress myself without my little cybernetic soul mate in good working order.

Fortunately, the fine people at PC Guru in Austin, TX got me up and running...but it was definitely a scary reminder of how much it’s gonna suck when Facebook finally becomes self-aware and turns all our computers, ATMs, DVRs, MP3s and GPS systems against us.

So, as a public service, your (mostly) human friends here at the Screengrab figured now would be as good a time as any to whip up some post-Y2K panic with our list of THE SCARIEST TECHNOLOGY IN CINEMA HISTORY!

METROPOLIS (1927)

Fritz Lang's titanic silent sci-fi masterpiece uses a look derived from a mix of Art Deco and Amazing Stories cover designs to decorate a political allegory that Lang said was inspired by his first sight of New York City, which seems to have fried some of the wiring in his central cortex. (If the old boy were to come back and see what the place looks like today, we'd have to find him a job biting the heads off chickens.) Society consists of the rich who live above ground in glittering skyscrapers and the poor who labor and live in underground tunnels, sort of like in Titanic. The whole shebang is run by Johan, a capitalist uber-lord; meanwhile, down below, Metropolis has found its answer to Samuel Gompers in the beautiful Maria, a saintly labor activist who is rallying the workers. The plot kicks into high gear when Johan's breathtakingly goofy son, Freder, gets a look at Maria and is instantly radicalized. Instead of taking the usual tack of industrialist tyrants in this situation and buying his kid a motorcycle and a lap dance, Johan turns to his trusty house mad scientist, Rotwang, who creates a trouble-making robot duplicate of Maria, in a scene that anticipates The Bride of Frankenstein and Dr. Strangelove in about equal measure, and turns 'er loose, with results that prove instructional for one and all. (PN)

2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (1968)

Its red eye glowing, its voice calm and soothing, HAL 9000 – on-board computer of the spaceship Discovery – remains, forty-one years after 2001: A Space Odyssey’s debut, cinema’s most iconic piece of evil technology. Or, at least, the sentient HAL is one of the most dangerous pieces of technology to ever be presented on screen, as its homicidal tendencies stem primarily from a desire to fulfill preprogrammed mission directives – aims which are threatened by the plan of astronauts Bowman (Keir Dullea) and Poole (Gary Lockwood) to disconnect it. The fact that self-preservation in service of duty is HAL’s motivation to kill problematizes any attempt to cast it as purely evil, especially since its survival instinct, when viewed alongside its emotive speech (contrasted with the men’s monotonous, monosyllabic utterances), marks the computer as distinctly human-like. Nonetheless, even if HAL isn’t immoral, it most certainly is frighteningly lethal. And rarely have the movies presented a more harrowing, intimidating vision of technology-run-amok than the sight of HAL covertly, calculatingly reading the lips of the scheming astronauts, and soon thereafter sending Poole spinning into the oblivion of space. (NS)

WESTWORLD (1973)

While re-watching Westworld in preparation for this list, I recovered a long-lost childhood memory. I’m on a train with my family when bandits on horseback pull us over, board the train and take our money. This really happened, although I should probably explain that it was supposed to happen – it was no ordinary train ride, but rather a reenactment of the Great Train Robbery. I remember being terrified as the bandits prowled the aisle, brandishing their pistols, bandannas concealing most of their faces – but not so terrified that I actually relinquished the dollar my mother had slipped me so that I could enjoy being robbed along with everyone else. Why am I telling you this? Because, like Westworld, this was a simulation of life in the Old West intended to give us all the thrills without any of the consequences. As far as I know, there were no actual robots involved, but how can I be sure? The other thing it has in common with Westworld is that it scared me as a kid. Now that I’ve seen Westworld as an adult, I realize it’s about as scary as a visit to Six Gun City. The movie serves up some of writer/director Michael Crichton’s patented technophobia with a formula that would be duplicated to better effect in Jurassic Park, as visitors to a high-tech theme park find themselves terrorized by the robots meant to amuse them. It does have one thing going for it: Yul Brynner’s iconic black-hatted Gunslinger, who did the unstoppable killer robot thing more than a decade before The Terminator. (SVD)

ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND (2004)

In screenwriter Charlie Kaufman's world, human beings don't really need technology to screw up their lives, but in this movie they get some help anyway, courtesy of Lacuna, Inc. and its mind-wipe service, which enables the client to have his memory scrubbed of anything that he feels is holding him back or causing him undue pain. Jim Carrey, at his most subdued, is the loser hero who discovers that Clementine (Kate Winslet), the old flame who shook up his life, has had her memories of their time together erased, possibly as a lark, and who opts to have his own mind scrubbed clean of its memories of her, not realizing how hard he'll fight to hang onto any traces of having had her in his life when the process begins. Kaufman and director Michel Gondry manage to wring romantic comedy out of what may be the most painful of romantic truths: everyone wants to be remembered, but the memories of what was most important to you may be the ones that you'd sometimes most like to be rid of. (PN)

Click Here For Part Two, Three & Four

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Phil Nugent, Nick Schager, Scott Von Doviak

Watch It For Free: "Astro Boy"...

Leonard Pierce — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 15:45:00 GMT

...and Metropolis, Black Jack, Phoenix, Jungle Emperor, Princess Knight, and over ninety other anime titles written, directed, or produced by the late Osamu Tezuka. If you're at all a fan of classic Japanese animation, the announcement by Tekuza Productions that they'll be streaming 100 of their founder's projects over the internet for free, starting next week, is the biggest news of the year.

The Anime News Network is reporting that Tekuza Productions' Japanese site will be posting 100 anime titles by the comics and animation pioneer (along with 700 manga books for download) starting this week. Every film Osamu Tekuza made prior to his death in 1989 will be included, and the projected three-year project (which will ultimately include mirror sites in English and Korean) will culminate in free viewings of his crowning achievement, Metropolis.

The one catch, for manga fans: to browse the comics, you'll need to be running Windows and download a free software package. For those just interested in watching the films, though, the videos will be platform-neutral and available in all three languages within the year -- timed to coincide with a big-screen remake of Tekuza's most popular creation, Astro Boy.

Cool Motorcycles and Dudes with Metal Arms: Akira Goes Live-Action

Visions of Change: Cinematic Utopias & Worst Case Scenarios (Part Four)

Andrew Osborne — Fri, 07 Nov 2008 00:00:00 GMT

METROPOLIS (1927)

The granddaddy of cinematic dystopias, Fritz Lang’s science fiction masterpiece will probably get a re-release in the not too distant future, now that long-lost footage from the original 1927 cut has turned up in a film museum in Argentina (at least according to the German paper Die Zeit). The film’s Art Deco production design has influenced everything from Star Wars, Blade Runner and Tim Burton’s Gotham City to Madonna’s “Express Yourself” video, but the story is even more universal, with its (sadly) timeless depiction of a society where the rich are supported by the suffering of the unseen, overworked poor and power is maintained through divisive lies spread by sexy robots.

CHILDREN OF MEN (2006)

Utopia is about a singular view of perfection. Dystopia is when that view does not include everyone. As literature has shown over and over again, Utopia (which means, literally "no place") cannot exist because people cannot get along. How can any one idea of perfection work for everyone? Democracy is the closest form of government to perfection yet created. The most people can work for the best outcome. The rights of those in the minority are protected by law. Simple and beautiful. But even here in the good old U.S. of A., we've done our level best to fuck it up. In the last eight years, we've stripped civil liberties to the bone and bought into a viewpoint of fear so foul that we have allowed our leaders to demonize everyone who subscribes to the world's second-largest religion. We've gone into an unwinnable war for reasons that seemed spurious at the time and have since proved absurd. We allow representatives of our media to smear citizens who would dare to question our leaders' judgment. And the outgoing guy (two more months!), the guy responsible for the bulk of these travesties, received more votes in the last election from citizens in this democracy than any prior candidate. But it's a brave new world. Even more people voted for the new guy. He's promising "change," which isn't a hard thing to live up to, but he says that he believes in hope and believes that he can make things better for more people...but if not, we may end up with something akin to the 2006 adaptation of P.D. James’ novel Children of Men, set in the last days of humanity, when the world has fallen into chaos. There are no children; there is no future for the human race. The only surviving government that we see is Great Britain's, and it has clamped down on immigration with a vengeance that can only be described as Lou-Dobbsian. Terrorist bombings are common. So are death camps and torture. The rich hide themselves away behind gates and armed guards and think about the death of culture, while their police and policies ensure that everyone else just thinks about death. Alfonso Cuaron's film looks on the works of man and does not flinch.

THE NEW WORLD (2005)

In Terrence Malick's version of the Pocahontas story, the Jamestown settlers are criminals and layabouts pretending to be pioneers and soldiers. The new world has given them a chance to begin again, to make everything right even though they've previously made a mess of their lives. There's two problems right off the bat: a) they want to force the new world into their own image of it, despite the people already occupying it, and b) they don't know how. Force is the usual answer, but understanding is the extraordinary one. The settlers opt for Plan A, but one of the native new worlders grasps at Plan B. Understanding has its own set of problems, not least that it cannot last. Humanity is about strife and force; one person alone cannot elide the genetic imperative that leads to violence over property and ways of life. She pushes herself, though. Assimilates. Knows love. Knows wisdom. Knows the impossibility of her task. But she continues to push understanding, onward to the next new world, from which no messages return.

LA JETEE (1962)

The future is all used up. Those in power among the survivors of World War III need help from other time periods. They have developed an idea of time travel based on memory and send a man back to a fixed image in his head. They visit a fallen tree, echoing Vertigo, and he points out beyond its rings to show her where he's from. Later, he goes to the future, where he secures the power source his society needs to continue to survive. His own time has no use for him anymore, but they fear his happiness. And he may be dreaming, but it's a dream that propels him towards death.

WEEK END (1967)

Ordinary dispute erupts into shocking violence. In one of cinema’s greatest tracking shots, as our oblivious protagonists weave through a traffic jam that seems to stretch out to infinity, the framework of society falls to shambles. They are on the way to murder one's father for the insurance money. Godard’s children of Marx and Coca-Cola (I know, that’s from a different movie) start out with every luxury available and end with pigs slaughtered by know-nothing revolutionaries in the woods. Violence is so commonplace that they can't even see it. I'm fairly certain this is what would have happened within a week of a John McCain victory.

FITZCARRALDO (1982)

This movie is built around one man’s mad and obsessive utopian scheme to bring an opera house to the jungle. He fails - everyone fails at perfection - but he fails spectacularly. Herculean feats, madness, and the looming specter of death all haunt this movie. Be sure to watch it with the documentary Burden of Dreams, in which you can see how close Werner Herzog gets to his vision.

Click Here for Part One, Part Two & Part Three

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Hayden Childs

Morning Deal Report: Less Lederhosen In This Version

Peter Smith — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 16:00:00 GMT

They're remaking Metropolis. That seems like a terrible idea, but could really go in a dozen directions. (Actually, you could argue it already has, between Blade Runner, the Tezuka/Otomo anime Metropolis and the totally sweet Giorgio Moroder/Queen version.) Just remember: the mediator between the head and hands MUST BE THE HEART!

Lucky you: rumor has it Sex and the City is going to be a trilogy. We New York residents can look forward to the streets being re-glutted with expensive-shoe-wearing twenty-year-olds all excited about how their newly cosmopolitan lives are just like Sex and the City. Bah! Feh!

Nobly following in Hot Fuzz's footsteps, the Wayans brothers will next spoof action films.

— Peter Smith

Take Five: Revolution!

Peter Smith — Fri, 09 Nov 2007 21:00:00 GMT

Monday was Guy Fawkes Day. What the hell is Guy Fawkes Day, you may be asking if you are not British, or the product of an inferior educational system? The Fifth of November is what it is, the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot by one Mr. Fawkes to blow up Parliament. Americans, comic book fans, and people who were hung over in their Survey of European History classes may remember it best from V for Vendetta, where the eponymous terrorist V decides Guy Fawkes Day is the perfect time to throw his own fireworks display at the Houses of Parliament, touching off a popular revolt against the tyrannical government of a future England (not entirely without similarity to modern America). Hollywood films have always had a bit of a, shall we say, delicate constitution about films that portray violent revolution, which, despite the circumstances of our own founding, seems to smack a bit of pink. Other countries haven’t been so squeamish; here’s some good films to watch when you’re ready to stick it to the Man.

BRONENOSETS POTYOMKIN [THE BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN] (1925)

A classic in every sense of the word, Sergei Eisenstein’s phenomenal silent movie about an uprising of sailors against the czarist regime virtually invented the modern art of montage, gave us the endlessly influential “Odessa Steps” sequence, and stood as a towering achievement of Soviet cinema, even outlasting its censors and detractors in Russia itself. But one of the most astonishing things about it is that it was made less than eight years after the Russian Revolution, arguably the most important upheaval of the 20th century. The notion that such gorgeous and powerful art could be put the service of the purest propaganda would haunt writers and critics for decades – and would be put to the test again when Leni Riefenstahl began work on her Triumph of the Will.

METROPOLIS (1927)

Science fiction, with its potential for infinite variety, would seem to be a natural for political storytelling, but much popular sci-fi is either painfully apolitical or downright reactionary. Writers such as Samuel Delany and Ursula LeGuin, who approach issues of revolution and anarchy, are still few and far between in the genre. In the 1920s, though, when Fritz Lang made his silent sci-fi masterpiece, everyone in the audience knew exactly what he was talking about. The highly charged atmosphere of Germany between the wars featured socialists, communists and nationalists constantly at each other’s throats, and Metropolis’ depiction of a mistreated underclass of despised laborers working for the enrichment of a wealth, privileged industrial elite made it quite clear where the director’s sympathy lay. Only a few years later, the Nazis would come to power, and Lang fled the country, deciding that it wasn’t his kind of revolution.

ZÉRO DE CONDUITE [ZERO FOR CONDUCT] (1933)

French boarding schools have contained an element of seediness and menace in more than one great film (see also Clouzot’s Diabolique), but nowhere do they seem as oppressive and intolerable as they do in Jean Vigo’s masterful, anarchic Zero for Conduct. Surreal, creepy, innovate, funny, touching and occasionally terrifying, the film also does more than anything before or since to convey the pure, joyous spirit of youthful rebellion that life eventually beats out of you. Less than an hour long but filled with unforgettable moments, Zero for Conduct is a masterpiece about the giddy charge of revolution.

WEEK END (1967)

It takes so little to transform that word into something threatening: simply split it, as do the French, and place a heavy emphasis on “end”, and you have the implication, carried in every frame of this astonishing film, that it’s not just the work week that’s coming to an end, but cinema and perhaps civilization itself. It’s hard to appreciate today exactly how great an impact Jean-Luc Godard’s revolutionary consciousness had on French society of its day; he wasn’t the most successful director in the country, but he was a major figure in the arts, and his stars were famous television actors with huge amounts of mainstream credibility. When his characters turned to the camera and discussed, in plain terms, the high and low of Marxist revolution, it wasn’t satire or the dabbling of a dilettante: it was someone who was dead serious, and whose final stab for some time at narrative filmmaking would eerily presage the eruption of Paris less than a year later.

IF… (1968)

Nowadays, young people know Malcolm McDowell as that kindly old man from Heroes who wants to blow up New York to prove a point about something or other. But forty years ago, between appearing as Alex in A Clockwork Orange and starring in this Lindsay Anderson classic about a rebellious youth who graduates from sassing back and carrying on with girls to turning a machinegun on the headmasters at his school, he must have seemed like the film industry’s own Antichrist. 1968 was a tumultuous year, and students in France, Italy, Japan and Germany, among other places, were only a hair away from actually lining up their teachers in front of a firing squad; the film seems a bit heavy-handed and dated these days (especially given the spectacular flameout of its director), but at the time, it was a savage and sobering piece of filmmaking.

— Leonard Pierce