Two nights ago, it was Close Encounters of the Third Kind, followed by The Day the Earth Stood Still. CE3K happens to jockey regularly within my top 3 favorite films of all time. Yes, I was certainly a part of the Star Wars generation and owned as many of those toys as I could get my hands on. BUT... at age 7, I was fully aware of how superior and meaningful a film Close Encounters is. After all, I had only one Star Wars t-shirt, but I had two CE3K shirts... and a plastic bendable figure of the alien! How many of you can say THAT?!!

But this isn't about that movie. It's about the one that followed it, though there are some thoughtful comparisons to be made between the two.

The Day the Earth Stood Still remains one of the most atmospheric films of that glorious era when science fiction was at its peak. Then, it was all about outer space, whereas today's sci-fi deals more with inner space. Robert Wise made a very understated film, helped by a score that is a perfectly eerie backdrop to this quiet movie - one more deeply disturbing than anything about triffids or tarantulas.

I think what makes this movie so successful is a sort of inversion on the usual formula. It starts simply enough with the alien Klaatu (played by Michael Rennie, a man who STUNNINGLY resembles my father) being shot upon offering a gift to mankind that is misinterpreted as a threat.

The inversion is that the actual appearance of the aliens in this type of film is usually at least somewhat delayed. The audience is on edge in anticipation of the alien coming to disrupt the normal course of events, and the alien is usually some grotesque mess whose visage on screen is invariably accompanied by a blaring trumpet and a scream from the nearest female. But this movie gets started with the alien from the very beginning and, while it is the point where Klaatu is shot and thereafter that the film becomes menacing, there is again an inversion: it's not any initial wrath from the alien that upsets us, but the fear of backlash from the humans' behavior. It's as if everyone realizes how rash and dangerous WE are and we live in fear of the judgment from the alien. Rennie is great at walking very comfortably among the people, while it is they who are quite twisted up about the recent events and "threat".

There's a fairly strong religious subtext to this film: A being from "out there" comes and exhorts us to disavow our ignorant and violent ways, urges us to change lest we destroy ourselves. And all he gets for his trouble is more of the same from us. Mr. "Carpenter" (the name Klaatu adopts as his alias - not very subtle) is actually killed toward the end of the film, only to be resurrected, whereupon he delivers one final sermon and then ascends.

The only issue I have with this theme is his explanation of the role of the robots the aliens have designed to keep all the lifeforms from disturbing the galactic peace. I see one of two possibilities: 1) the aliens represent our conscience, given to us by God and enforcers of our morality, or 2) man has, in fact, constructed god as a means of deterrent for actions that cannot practically be monitored and enforced every second by mere human eyes. This second theory has much deeper ramifications beyond the context of this film, and I intend to learn more about that as I read Religion Explained: The Evolutionary Origins of Religious Thought, a book I bought a while ago but have yet to get to.

I think this movie stands apart from its genre for what it tells us about us - something science fiction ought to do, but somehow seems not to most of the time. Granted, sometimes the allusions are apparent (ala The Invasion of the Body Snatchers and the Red Scare, a connection the director of that film has disavowed - I can't believe that). But this film was important not only as an artifact of its time, but for a message that is indeed timeless: I have met the enemy and he is us. This may all sound rather trite, but from an era where so much of the cinematic presentation seems now quaint (stilted dialogue, goofy effects) and therefore utterly inacessible to the average teen except through a thick cloud of irony, this film truly rises to the top. Message: put aside your MST3K tapes for a while, and check out a true classic of the genre.

(Parting shot: one of the most vivid memories I retain from a decade-ago-at-least visit to Austin to play with their RHPS cast is of getting into costume at the director's apartment with a dozen or so other folks, and someone flips to this movie while channel-surfing. A few people watched with complete disinterest before someone asked what the movie was, and no one in the room could provide the answer but me. Not for the first, nor the last time, did I weep for those who profess so much affection for the film they were about to shadow, yet know so little about one of the sources of its inspiration. Still, I take heart that even though the cast didn't recognize this movie when they saw it, perhaps those first wonderful words spoken by those big red lips would inspire someone in the audience to seek out this gem and develop a deeper appreciation for Richard O'Brien's beloved classic, and from whence it came.)