Ten Great Science Fiction Films: Myths of Runaway Technologies – Part I

Modern Myths, Mechanical Monsters

In ancient and medieval times, mythological monsters were typically beasts, such as giants or dragons.  In today’s mythical stories, most notably in science fiction films, monsters are commonly machines.  Really, the Frankenstein monster was the first of these mythic, machine-like creatures, though a long line of mechanical monsters—from cyborgs to Artificial Intelligence (AI)—have debuted on celluloid since.

What’s unique about mechanical monsters is that (unlike ancient and medieval beasts) they’re our own technological creations.  Like the Frankenstein monster, they symbolize runaway technologies, or what happens once technological innovation triggers a chain of unintended consequences.

Ten Great Science Fiction Films

Because runaway technologies represent such a widespread motif in cinema, I thought I’d list ten great science fiction films that, in my opinion, most cleverly embody this theme.  I’ll start with my favorite.

#1) 2001: A Space Odyssey

Well, he acts like he has genuine emotions. Um, of course he’s programmed that way to make it easier for us to talk to him.  But as to whether he has real feelings is something I don’t think anyone can truthfully answer.

I’ll have the most to say about this movie, because it remains, in my opinion, the greatest science fiction film ever made.

Tools and the Dawn of Humankind

The esoteric story line and realistic special effects of 2001 made it a phenomenal aesthetic feat for 1968.  It was a time when scientists and philosophers began thinking about AI and the fate of humanity in an age of space exploration.  Director Stanley Kubrick and science fiction writer Arthur C. Clarke captured this zeitgeist to say something profound about humankind’s relationship with technology, spanning from our primate beginnings to celestial future.

Starting with the “Dawn of Man” sequence, the film shows our ancestors’ discovery of tools.  Learning how to turn bones into weapons allowed early hominins to hunt, fight, and flourish.  Using tools to cope with and master the harsh reality of life also allowed them to enter a new stage of evolution.  That stage was what paleontologist Kenneth Oakley called “man the tool-maker.”

Toward the end of this sequence, we see one hominin, realizing the god-like power derived from toolmaking, throw his bone/weapon in the air … and next, we see a satellite floating through outer space.  From past to future, that’s how far we’ve come as a species—from making tools to designing spacecrafts.

Machines and the Future of Humanity

In the future, we meet HAL, the word’s most advanced AI computer, which is hooked up to a spaceship transporting a crew of astronauts.  Ironically, HAL acts not only more intelligent but also more talkative (and human) than the astronauts, who seem rather nonchalant at first.  From scene to scene, HAL expresses inquisitive emotion, while the crew members say little.

Of course, the threat of AI is that it may turn against us.  HAL is no exception.

The space flight goes terribly wrong after HAL turns into a Frankenstein monster and surreptitiously murders the crew.  Only one astronaut, Dave, escapes HAL’s assassination attempts.  As Dave struggles for his life, there’s a haunting scene where he’s stuck outside the spaceship in a pod.  Ordering HAL to open the doors, Dave hears HAL’s infamous reply: “I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

The threat of HAL forces Dave to become a cunning, Odysseus-like hero as he outsmarts the intelligent machine trying to kill him.  All the while, we see HAL’s red eye glow in the spacecraft’s background.  Although HAL sounds proud (“incapable of error” is its claim to fame), Dave does not know if HAL feels emotion at first.  Toward the end of the film, however, he almost certainly does while disconnecting HAL beneath its eerie protest.  “Stop Dave … I’m afraid.”

After disconnecting—and effectively killing—HAL, Dave travels through a vortex, sees visions of himself growing old and dying, and undergoes a nebulous rebirth as a Star-Child.

So, what does the Star-Child represent?  Using tools to transcend human limitations?  Overcoming our dependence on machines?  Both maybe?  Either way, 2001 shows how technology has played a major role in what it means to be human.  Which brings us to the monolith.

What about the monolith?

What about the monolith, that mysterious rectangular symbol appearing throughout the film?

Stanley Kubrick The Exhibition - LACMA - 2001 A Space Odyssey - Monolith (8999726452)
(Image Source: Monolith by Matthew J. Cotter from Wigan, UK / CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons)
Whatever the monolith is precisely remains a mystery.  (One of my friends thought it looked eerily like a smartphone.)  And yet, each time it appears, humankind enters a new stage of evolution: from early hominin to toolmaker, space explorer, AI inventor, and finally Star-Child.

In sum, the monolith marks every moment humanity uses tools or machines to advance itself.  It’s an emblem of our relationship with technology.  With that symbol, 2001 is essentially saying that technology is, in part, what makes us human.  The challenge, nevertheless, is figuring out how to have a constructive relationship with tools and machines.  Otherwise, they may spin out of control and become runaway technologies that threaten to destroy us.


This list of ten great science fiction films continues in Part II of this series on mythology in media.

 

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