In my previous discussion regarding this enduring archetype of film and television, I focused most of my attention on the mythological warrior woman—she who transcended from history and myth onto the screen—and the varied attempts made to bring her to life. Today, however, I’m going to talk about pop culture and the gift of the modern Amazon that Hollywood has bestowed upon us.

It is clear that there is an ever-growing trend of powerful women onscreen. This would perhaps hint at a change in society’s attitude toward women, to begin with, if only to the untrained eye. We’ve gone from screaming victims and hapless dancers to ruthless avengers and superheroines in scanty outfits, always ‘packaged’ for maximum commercial consumption. Yet, at the same time, we’ve managed to (accidentally?) create more complex female characters for generations to come. I could hardly call it a feminist victory—in certain aspects, Western society still has a way to go, but it is best to enjoy the full half of the glass.

‘THE AVENGERS’ (1961-1969), ©ASSOCIATED BRITISH CORPORATION

The Land Before Time

During the ‘60s, there was a massive influx of testosterone-powered tales of great adventures whose heroes exhilarated their audiences by killing ferocious animals with their slick revolvers before they found themselves speechless in front of a full-breasted lady that sort of… ‘didn’t belong’. From thereon, almost accidentally, the ‘wild heroine’ evolved.

Filmmakers opted for exotic or prehistoric landscapes in which to challenge their female protagonists, usually in eras when clothing was scarce, which was fine for exposing their gorgeously chiselled curves. Almost always, the leading lady was a blonde, a ‘white goddess of the jungle’—just one example of the many racial tones that consistently plagued productions of that era, as ‘white’ was perceived as code for ‘good’ and ‘black’ was considered ‘evil’.

The most memorable prehistoric warrior queen of that time is Raquel Welch as Loana in ‘One Million Years B.C.’ (1966). While it elevated her to international sex-symbol status, the film itself was a remake of a 1940 original that starred Carole Landis and Victor Mature, and most of its box-office power stemmed from the nearly gratuitous exploitation of Welch’s stunning figure—her character sports fur bikinis, heroically rescues the male protagonist Tumak, and has heated fight scenes with equally enticing cavewomen, dancing dangerously on the edge of volcanic eroticism.

Loana inadvertently falls for Tumak and leaves her beloved tribe and known world to trek across a dangerous desert beside him not as a companion but as an equal. She faces dangers and fights dinosaurs and members of the rock tribe, yet she doesn’t alienate the male audience with her warrior nature. Fundamentally, Loana is still the nurturing and composed influence of the story, smoothly sliding into the traditional and universally accepted slot usually reserved for women in film and literature.

‘ONE MILLION YEARS B.C.’ (1966), ©HAMMER FILMS

Before Welch, former model Irish McCalla had made her share of waves as a ‘wild presence’, donning leopard skins and blowing her signature buffalo horn in ‘Sheena: Queen of the Jungle’ (1955-1957). A cause for numerous wet dreams among mid-century teens, this particular depiction bears a striking resemblance to the Venus of Laussel, a Palaeolithic deity dating back 20,000 years, as identified by David Broad in his article for ‘Studies in Popular Culture’ of 1997. Like many of her warrior counterparts in television, Sheena was a product of the comic book realm, created as a female rival to Tarzan by Will Eisner and S.M. Iger.

She, too, was abandoned and raised in the jungle. She, too, displayed the perfect, powerful physical form. She, too, had a flawless sense of right and wrong. Alas, Sheena’s popularity was doomed to eventually fade, given that period’s repressive Eisenhower-McCarthy climate when social emphasis became laser-pointed on the nuclear family. The woman needed to be pushed out of the workforce that had previously welcomed her during WWII and sent back into the ‘loyal housewife’ or ‘brainless bombshell’ moulds, instead.

But while it lasted, ‘Sheena: Queen of the Jungle’ presented an indisputable appeal through Ms McCalla, a pinup dame that reminded Hollywood brass and network viewers of the Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield type that had already blown up on the silver screen. As a character, she was notedly different: innocent yet strong-willed, a fighter, and a nurturer.

‘SHEENA: QUEEN OF THE JUNGLE’ (1955-1957), ©NASSOUR STUDIOS INC.

Other notable examples of the savage woman warrior from lost ages include ‘Jungle Girl’ (1941), a fifteen-part serial based on Edgar Rice Burroughs’ novel that follows France Gifford’s Nyoka becoming a reckoning force of wilderness; ‘Saga of the Viking Women and their Voyage to the Waters of the Great Sea Serpent’ (1957) by Roger Corman, which sees traditional roles reversed with men kept in bondage as the women pursue their rescue; and a ton of otherwise mediocre titles that include the word ‘Amazon’ solely as an excuse to use as little costume material as possible.

The Warrior Ladies of ‘Conan the Barbarian’

The ‘70s had been brewing a comeback of the warrior queen for quite a while before Robert E. Howard’s Conan hit the big screens. The three movies that ultimately secured Arnold Schwarzenegger’s career also brought forth some phenomenally badass women, heavily influenced by ‘Wonder Woman’ (1975-1979) and ‘The Bionic Woman’ (1976-1978). At the time, there was also a steady fandom growing around the French comics of ‘Metal Hurlant’ and their English sister ‘Heavy Metal’, along with the smashing success of the ‘Dungeons & Dragons’ roleplaying game. It’s what we, today, might call a perfect storm.

‘CONAN THE BARBARIAN’ (1982), ©UNIVERSAL PICTURES

Valeria of ‘Conan the Barbarian’ (1982) was the first to combine all of the above elements, epitomizing the Viking ideal of power and beauty. Portrayed by Sandahl Bergman, she was tall, blonde, gorgeous, and a worthy match for Conan on every level. She equalled him in thievery and in lovemaking, ultimately winning his eternal devotion when she sacrificed herself to save him from James Earl Jones’s villain Thulsa Doom.

‘CONAN THE DESTROYER’ (1984), ©UNIVERSAL PICTURES

In ‘Conan the Destroyer’ (1984), the female protagonists are decidedly strong-willed. Queen Tamaris, played by Sarah Douglas, is ruthless in her desire to awake the god Dagoth and rule beside him, while teen princess Jehnna, embodied by Olivia D’Abo, is spoiled but wise to follow her instincts since Conan’s judgment is still clouded by the loss of Valeria. My absolute favourite is Grace Jones’s Zula, an incarnation of the model’s performance art—gorgeous, gender-bending, primal, and fierce as a panther.

The third film of the Conan series, ‘Red Sonja’ (1985), was a painful stretch and a box-office flop. It ended further adaptations that had been originally planned for Schwarzenegger’s iconic character even though it didn’t feature him onscreen. While still based on Howard’s stories, the film brought forth Brigitte Nielsen as the dominating female protagonist and alluring fantasy warrior. Unfortunately, the lack of acting chops and irritating attempts at annoying relief tanked the whole franchise. Fortunately, there’s a reboot on the way, penned by Joey Soloway and Tasha Huo, and featuring Hannah John-Kamen of ‘Ant Man and the Wasp’ (2018) and ‘Brave New World’ (2020) fame as Red Sonja.

‘RED SONJA’ (1985), ©DINO DE LAURENTIIS COMPANY

The Honourable Shieldmaiden

Most of the high fantasy genre is still male dominated. No surprise there, considering oeuvres such as the ‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien, whose Middle-Earth realm is fought over and controlled by the men of the species—human, elf, hobbit, and orc alike. We’ve got Aragorn, son of Arathorn and key protagonist. We’ve got Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry. We’ve got Legolas and Gimli. Gandalf and Saruman. We’ve got Elrond and Eomer and, well, you get the picture. Sure, let’s give Arwen a nod here, why not? After all, Peter Jackson did do a grand job of recalibrating Tolkien’s handful of female characters for a generation of viewers that are better accustomed to women in combat roles.

But the true warrior woman exception of ‘The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers’ (2002) and ‘The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King’ (2003) is the incomparable Eowyn, niece of King Theoden, superbly portrayed by Miranda Otto. Demonstrating her expertise with bladed weapons early on, she comes across as an aggressive fighter unfortunately still repressed by the king and by the traditional role that she’s expected to fit into—despite death itself knocking on Rohan’s battered gates. By the climax of the trilogy’s third part, however, Eowyn has slipped into a suit of armour and joined the armies of men against the evil of Sauron. She has fought valiantly and nearly died to defend humanity’s ideals. She has resisted darkness and despair, and she has held her king in his dying moments.

‘THE LORD OF THE RINGS: RETURN OF THE KING’ (2003), ©NEW LINE CINEMA

Xena and Her Conscience, Gabrielle

Originally designed as a companion to ‘Hercules: The Legendary Journeys’ (1995-1999), ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’ (1995-2001) went on to outgrow its brother and became a turning point in the history of television due to its exquisite development of the warrior woman archetype within that epoch and its sensible approach to depicting female protagonists, in general—as opposed to the usually objectified babes I mentioned earlier. What I found most extraordinary was the depth with which fans (most of them women) connected with the show. It was an intimate relationship that led to numerous discussion boards dissecting each episode, proving that Xena’s supporters weren’t just passive consumers but interactive viewers who later shaped and steered the show.

Once one begins to peel away at the many layers that made Sam Raimi’s work such a success, one can’t help but notice the beautiful dynamic between Lucy Lawless’ spicy Xena and Renee O’Connor’s more down-to-earth Gabrielle. The warrior and the maid. The sword and the shield. The fighter and the peacemaker. Through the entire series, Gabrielle becomes Xena’s focal point and recipient of all her affection and loyalty, leading to the protagonists splendidly complementing each other. The former is more ‘traditionally feminine’ and the latter’s conscience, a counterweight to Xena’s cruel instincts that once defined her violent past. In this show’s universe, the warrior queen carries herself with two equally beautiful faces: Xena and Gabrielle.

‘XENA: WARRIOR PRINCESS’ (1995-2001), ©MCA TELEVISION

The Monster Killer

For a long time in horror films, there was a recurring pattern of the woman conceptualized more as victim than as hunter, which is why the ‘90s and the ‘00s rose in rebellion with tales of modern female protagonists who turned the trope inside out and started fighting back against the terrible monsters. See Milla Jovovich in ‘Resident Evil’ (2002), for example, who reacts with instinctive power and magnificent combat techniques when zombies and mutant beasts come to kill her.

The Gothic heroines of the past are gone. In their place come enticing femme fatales who wield stakes and blades and machine guns with remarkable ease. See Kate Beckinsale in ‘Underworld’ (2003), in which she takes on the lead not only as a woman but as a vampire—a monster hunting monsters. Clearly, the warrior queen at the turn of the new century is infinitely more complex and dons a darker side.

‘UNDERWORLD’ (2003), ©LAKESHORE ENTERTAINMENT

This new action figure was skilfully defined early on through ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ (1997-2003), winner of two Primetime Emmys and the favourite show of several generations. Joss Whedon’s cult classic wasn’t expected to do as well as it did, ultimately spawning a spinoff for David Boreanaz in the process. Truth be told, the series is one of the most ambitious feats of television that virtually reshaped parts of the creative process behind future similar monster-slashing projects. It did a spectacular job with character development, too.

The monsters were never the dominant aspect of ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’. They served as bloody and exciting décor for a story whose heroine tried to wade through life as a young adult, as a misfit, as a daughter and as a friend, struggling with the common issues that made Sarah Michelle Gellar’s character so relatable and beloved by most—love, life, death, sexual experimentation, and profound self-identity crises. At times campy and worn out, the show did bring forth a protagonist that became a celebrated milestone in TV history.

‘BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER’ (1997-2003), ©MUTANT ENEMY

Not forgetting Lori Petty’s prolific ‘Tank Girl’ (1995), Diana Rigg’s statuesque, raspy-voiced Emma Peel in ‘The Avengers’ (1961-1969), Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley in ‘Alien’ (1979), Jennifer Garner’s Sidney in ‘Alias’ (2001-2006), nor Uma Thurman’s Bride in ‘Kill Bill: Vol. 1’ (2003), among many others, when addressing the warrior queens of pop culture, it’s delightfully plain to see that the film and television industry have come a long way. Sure, there’s still just as much ahead as we struggle to forge unique and original female characters, but the warrior woman has not only become more popular in recent decades… She has become downright indispensable.

It is time to look at my favourite genre, science fiction, and its equally popular but lesser understood cousin, science fantasy—or space fantasy, as I’ve recently taken to calling it. We are reaching a certain point in our cinematic development where a distinction is sorely needed, mainly because newer productions have upped the stakes in terms of storytelling and scientific accuracy. If Isaac Asimov were still alive, he would probably be tearing up right about now.

The thing is… when I ask people what sort of science fiction they like, they often bring up the ‘Star Wars’ and ‘Star Trek’ franchises. But here’s the problem. Only one of the two qualifies as literal science fiction, and to better understand where I’m going with this, I need to take you back to the origin of the term itself: science fiction is ‘fiction based on imagined future scientific or technological advances and major social or environmental changes, frequently portraying space or time travel and life on other planets.’

‘LOST IN SPACE’ (2018), ©LEGENDARY TELEVISION/NETFLIX

Therefore, of the two above, only ‘Star Trek’ undoubtedly qualifies as sci-fi, since it imagines a possible future that might actually happen someday in terms of technological advancement. The science is also an integral part of the story, while Star Wars happened ‘a long time ago’ and ‘in a galaxy far away’—thus qualifying as a space fantasy, which doesn’t rely on an imagined future nor does it stay loyal to science as it imagines incredible worlds.

Space Fantasy: More Dream Than Theory

Breath-taking sights, cool-looking gizmos, fiery lasers, and eye-popping visual effects; giant spaceships, slender fighters, and extraordinary alien creatures; and an overarching sense that we, humans, are but a speck in the eye of the universe—tiny beings, yet always at the centre of a heroic adventure. That’s what space fantasy somehow always ends up being about.

‘Star Wars’ (1977, and still going)

George Lucas’s single most ambitious project didn’t just birth this terrific subgenre, it also revolutionized the special effects industry in cinema and brought the magic of space back into the national conversation. It began with the eponymous 1977 film, later retitled ‘Episode IV: A New Hope’—as the name suggests, the fourth in a series that Mr Lucas had been trying to make and consistently struggling with budget and special effects requirements. The story was simply ahead of its time.

It was followed by ‘Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back’ (1980) and ‘Episode VI: Return of the Jedi’ (1983), with Luke Skywalker’s overarching quest largely shaped by the director’s fondness of mythological theories proposed by Joseph Campbell—most of them were encompassed in ‘The Hero with a Thousand Faces’. To this day, ‘Star Wars’ is among the finest examples for the revered mythologist’s study of the hero’s journey and the stages one must go through in order to ascend and return, stronger than before and able to vanquish his foes.

‘STAR WARS: EPISODE IV – A NEW HOPE’ (1977), ©LUCASFILM/20TH CENTURY FOX

The films were so popular that more productions, both live action and animated, followed. About a decade later, Lucas was able to produce the first three features in his original collection: ‘Episode I: The Phantom Menace’ (1999), ‘Episode II: Attack of the Clones’ (2002), and ‘Episode III: Revenge of the Sith’ (2005), which ultimately reveals Darth Vader’s complicated origins.

By securing merchandizing rights at a time when studios weren’t yet embracing such potential, George Lucas found a way to monetize and further popularize his Star Wars brand and beloved characters, granting silver screen immortality to actors like Harrison Ford, Carrie Fischer, and Mark Hamill. Sequels followed after Lucas sold his rights to Disney, bringing out talents such as John Boyega, Adam Driver, and Daisy Ridley centre-stage. From there, the franchise kept growing with spinoffs and prequels—worth mentioning here are ‘Solo: A Star Wars Story’ (2018) and ‘Rogue One: A Star Wars Story’ (2016).

‘The Mandalorian’ (2019) is a Disney+ darling, and there are at least three more series currently in development, of which one is entirely dedicated to Rosario Dawson’s Ahsoka Tano. I’ll be honest. As long as Jon Favreau and J.J. Abrams continue to be involved in one form or another, I reckon there will be plenty more to be milked from this intergalactic cow.

‘THE MANDALORIAN’ (2019), ©LUCASFILM/WALT DISNEY STUDIOS

‘The Fifth Element’ (1997)

Luc Besson created a timeless work of cinema with this futuristic epic starring Bruce Willis, Milla Jovovich, and Gary Oldman. It made history with its daring production design and bold costume and makeup choices. It even featured opera music by Plavalaguna, the enchanting alien diva voiced by renowned Albanian soprano Inva Mula, along with natural and fantasy motifs—the four elements with Leeloo as the enigmatic fifth, imagined alien species, and ‘magical science’ solutions represent the backbone of ‘The Fifth Element’.

‘THE FIFTH ELEMENT’ (1997), ©COLUMBIA PICTURES/GAUMONT

‘Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets’ (2017)

Luc Besson’s second foray into the futuristic realm didn’t exactly smash box office expectations, but it dreamed big and it went there. Based on the comic books by Pierre Christin and Jean-Claude Mézières, ‘Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets’ follows Major Valerian and Sergeant Laureline as they fight to save Alpha, a space station of the 28^th century where beings from different planets live together in a constant exchange of culture and knowledge. Liberal use of visual effects, fantastical alien creatures, and ‘magical science’ via fancy-looking gadgets and multiple ecosystems crammed into a single space-floating station are central to the story.

‘VALERIAN AND THE CITY OF A THOUSAND PLANETS’ (2017), ©EUROPACORP

‘John Carter’ (2012)

Disney’s lesser loved attempt at space was based on a story by Edgar Rice Burroughs, titled ‘A Princess of Mars’. Much like ‘Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets’, ‘John Carter’ didn’t exactly knock most viewers’ socks off, though it did develop a kind fandom over the years. Academy Award recipient Andrew Stanton delivers a charming hero’s quest here with a Civil War vet protagonist who ends up on Mars, where he faces fascinating foes and saves a gorgeous princess. It is pretty much the silicone mould of space fantasy.

‘JOHN CARTER’ (2012), ©WALT DISNEY STUDIOS

‘Avatar’ (2009)

By imagining an alien species inhabiting the moon Pandora, James Cameron’s visual masterpiece goes farther in detail than others before it. The special effects are visually arresting, and the manic attention to detail within production and character design—not to mention world-building—left me, personally, speechless. The film does tread closer to the ‘magical’ side of cinema, but its Academy Awards for Cinematography, Visual Effects, and Art Direction were absolutely well-deserved. Viewers are soon to be treated to a sequel, too, after years of working to develop new technology for filming performance capture scenes underwater, which were necessary to bring Cameron’s story to life.

‘AVATAR’ (2009), ©20TH CENTURY FOX

Science Fiction: The Soft and Hard Kind

Unlike its pretty-looking cousin, a possible future is always at the centre of the story with science fiction. Yes, we bounce from one planet to another, and yes, we meet new alien species along the way, but all works of sci-fi draw more from Arthur C. Clarke than from Ursula K. LeGuin, in a world-building sense. The science used can be soft, mellow, or hard—the latter being a unicorn of this genre, truth be told, but regardless of accuracy, it is always central to the story and its world architecture.

‘Star Trek’ (1966, and also still going)

There is only one other creator within the cinematic realm that is as loved and revered as George Lucas, and that’s Gene Rodenberry, responsible for the resoundingly influential Star Trek universe. Its premise is simple. In the distant future, multi-species crews of the United Federation of Planets travel across galaxies on missions of peaceful exploration—the aim is ‘to boldly go where no man has gone before’. And so, a plethora of ‘what if’ scenarios are imagined. Most of the science used, such as the warp drive or the transporter, is soft science and purely, dreamy theoretical, yet it helps shape the entire narrative.

‘STAR TREK: THE ORIGINAL SERIES’ (1966-1969), ©PARAMOUNT TELEVISION

The Star Trek franchise stuck mostly to the small screen at first, with the original ‘Star Trek’ series running from 1966 to 1969. It was a roaring success that gifted pop culture with unforgettable characters and memorable lines, quickly growing into a massive phenomenon that spanned movies and animated series, as well. ‘Star Trek: The Next Generation’ was an even bigger hit, enjoying season after season on television from 1987 until 1994, followed by additional spinoffs such as ‘Deep Space Nine’ (1993-1999) and ‘Enterprise’ (2005).

With J.J. Abrams at the helm, Rodenberry’s cosmos was rebooted through the Kelvin timeline in 2009, bringing Leonard Nimoy’s Spock back into the past to reset and reshape the destinies of Captain Kirk and the rest of the original series’ protagonists—here played by Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, and Zoe Saldana, John Cho, Karl Urban, Simon Pegg, and Anton Yelchin. Streamers have since picked up several series, including ‘Discovery’ (2017) and ‘Picard’ (2020).

‘STAR TREK’ (2009), ©PARAMOUNT PICTURES

‘Firefly’ (2002-2003) & ‘Serenity’ (2005)

Joss Whedon’s project brought the incomparable talents of Nathan Fillion, Gina Torres, and Alan Tudyk to the small screen while also blending the grittiness of the western genre into science fiction in a way that just… made sense. Despite its hybrid nature and undeserved cancellation, the show tried honourably to use real science—one of the few who bothered at the time, actually, and that’s part of what made it so popular.

‘Serenity’ was meant to tie up loose ends after Whedon secured funding for the feature, but ‘Firefly’ retains a loyal following to this day, and for good reason. I’ll sneak some praise here for other cult classics based in outer space: ‘Babylon 5’ (1993-1998), ‘Farscape’ (1999-2003), and ‘Battlestar Galactica’ (2004-2009), which deserve love for their boldness and often surprising character complexity.

‘FIREFLY’ (2002-2003), ©20TH CENTURY FOX TELEVISION

From ‘Alien’ (1979) to ‘Prometheus’ (2012)

No one will ever forget the alien xenomorph bursting out of John Hurt’s chest in Ridley Scott’s legendary feature film. No one. But beyond the shock value, the frighteningly beautiful character design by H.R. Giger, the Academy Award-winning visual effects, and Sigourney Weaver’s illustrious performance, ‘Alien’ and its sequels were pretty good at imagining a possible future for humanity.

Yes, there could be life out there, and yes, contact might get everyone killed. More than three decades after the first ‘Alien movie’, Mr Scott took his story deeper into the realm of ‘what if’ with ‘Prometheus’, the prequel that sought to answer a greater question regarding humanity’s own starting point: what if Earth isn’t our point of origin, after all?

‘ALIEN’ (1979), ©BRANDYWINE PRODUCTIONS/20TH CENTURY FOX

‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ (1968)

Arthur C. Clarke’s most popular novel was developed concurrently with Stanley Kubrick’s iconic film, the latter considered one of cinema’s greatest feats of science fiction—ambitious and remarkable in its execution. Some of the multiple themes explored within this epic space adventure include the perils of artificial intelligence, the dangers of nuclear warfare, and the risks of technological advancement. We are capable of incredible things as a species, said both Mr Clarke and Mr Kubrick, but we are also capable of terrible things.

‘2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY’ (1968), ©METRO-GOLDWYN-MAYER (MGM)

‘Interstellar’ (2014)

As far as space exploration movies go, Christopher Nolan’s oeuvre is at the top of my list for science fiction cinema. It’s a work of art and science somehow finding common ground to propose a possible future, where man must travel through a wormhole in order to secure humanity’s survival. An ambitious tale to tell through breath-taking performances from Matthew McConaughey and Anne Hathaway, ‘Interstellar’ puts the theory of black holes acting as wormholes to the test.

The result is mind-boggling, particularly through its simulation of a Gargantua, which rendered even esteemed astrophysicist Kip Thorne (whose mathematics made the simulation possible to begin with) speechless! While there is so much we still don’t know about our universe, one thing is clear: our minds are able to transcend it, already.

‘INTERSTELLAR’ (2014), ©PARAMOUNT PICTURES/WARNER BROS.

‘The Expanse’ (2015)

Since Amazon’s exceptional science fiction series based on James S.A. Corey’s novels first streamed, HBO and Netflix have taken their own cracks at tackling the genre in an episodic structure—worth noting ‘Altered Carbon’ (2018), ‘Nightflyers’ (2019), and ‘Raised by Wolves’ (2020), mainly for their ambition of blending possible futures into fantastic, science-based (mostly!) storytelling. Alas, none reach the astounding levels ‘The Expanse’, and I’m confident in this statement for two reasons:

First, it’s the science. For obvious reasons, the protomolecule, while essential to the plot, is pure fantasy. So are the juice injections that help the human body withstand multiple-G speeds and the Epstein drive which allows for interplanetary travel—while neither is necessarily impossible, even theories fail to explain them.

‘THE EXPANSE’ (2015), ©AMAZON PRIME VIDEO/SYFY

Yet almost everything in the series is dedicated to scientific realism, and it offers an incredible foundation to build on. Space is a cruel mistress, and its varied living conditions, from the void’s lack thereof to Earth’s thriving atmosphere, show viewers the different ways in which humans might be able to survive in the future beyond our planet.

Second, creators Mark Fergus, Hawk Osby, Daniel Abraham, and Ty Franck manage to weave these scientifically-accurate realities into what I shall gladly describe as a ‘Game of Thrones in Space’, thus expanding on this possible future by studying mankind’s societal and political evolution over the span of four centuries, without skimping on the violence and intrigue. Our nature is both exploratory and destructive, and ‘The Expanse’ holds a mirror up to us in a genuinely startling fashion.

‘THE EXPANSE’ (2015), ©AMAZON PRIME VIDEO/SYFY

Of all the titles listed above, ‘The Expanse’ and ‘Interstellar’ represent a pivotal point in science fiction through their ability to convey an astoundingly coherent and potential hereafter for our species. I can only dare hope that upcoming film and TV productions will pay similar attention to the hard science upon which our very existence is built. While I will always love an epic space fantasy done right, it is truly an unforgettable experience to look at a movie or a TV series and realize that we might someday actually get that far. That our world can be bigger. Much bigger.

The Seventies and early Eighties were an era of experiments on the silver screen. With new technologies and an updated Hollywood code, the decade we’re about to delve into was a flourishing one, to say the least. Today’s masters of horror and drama emerged with bold new stories that genuinely spoke to the audiences of that era. The lavish and melodramatic tales of the Golden Age were abandoned, making room for the gritty and shameless, for the violent and the startling. Boundaries were pushed.

1972: Tangoes, Mobsters, and the Madness of Man

Bernardo Bertolucci gave us a Marlon Brando at the height of his career and a wide-eyed Maria Schneider in ‘Last Tango in Paris’ (1972). When the two strangers meet, physical intimacy almost immediately becomes an ‘elemental force… the medium of exchange’ between the emotionally broken Paul and the sensually curious Jeanne, as once noted by Roger Ebert.

Their chance encounter gives birth to a mysterious and restless mood that goes on to define their tempestuous relationship. The coupling was basically a rape scene, and Mr Bertolucci later confirmed that Ms Schneider was not aware of the details prior to shooting, which made her emotions all the rawer and more shocking. In the end, ‘Last Tango in Paris’ was the first feature to equate physical intimacy with human communication, despite the contrast between its high-art aspiration and its controversies.

‘LAST TANGO IN PARIS’ (1972), ©UNITED ARTISTS/MGM

Once considered by critics as the Soviet reply to Stanley Kubrick’s ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ (1968), Andrei Tarkovsky’s ‘Solaris’ (1972) is eerily earthbound and drawn to the past, especially since it’s a sci-fi film set mostly on another planet in a distant future. The Russian director did not share Kubrick’s fascination with technology, nor his misanthropy. He also stepped away from the source material’s author, Stanislaw Lem, and his concern with Man confronting the Cosmos. Tarkovski was more about the humanity that Man brought with him into the depth of Cosmos, instead. He spent his entire career proving that cinema was an art form as important as any other medium, and he certainly proved it with the weightlessness scene between Kelvin and his dead wife’s ghost.

‘SOLARIS’ (1972), ©MOSFILM

The most memorable scene in Francis Ford Coppola’s ‘The Godfather’ (1972) is likely the horse’s head in the bed of Hollywood studio chief Jack Woltz. The circumstances that lead to this moment—specifically, Woltz’s decision to deprive mobbed-up singer Johnny Fontane of a key part in an upcoming war flick—were clearly inspired from Columbia boss Harry Cohn’s choice to cast Frank Sinatra in ‘From Here to Eternity’ (1954), though the dead horse trigger itself was something that writer Mario Puzo probably picked up from ‘The Public Enemy’ (1931). It haunts me, to this day.

In ‘Aguirre, the Wrath of God’ (1972), his finest film with his archetypal star, Werner Herzog delivered a perfect example of his desire to depict the world as it had never been seen or even imagined before. The movie can easily be interpreted as an allegory of authoritarianism, its deranged hero representing the Hitlers of absolutely every stage of humanity. But viewing this story solely through an intellectual lens would diminish its sensory appeal, which ultimately carries its true meaning. As the camera swirls around Aguirre on his raft, stricken with delusional madness, Herzog presents us with history as nightmare, making his viewers breathe a sigh of relief when the film ends, and we’re returned to reality.

‘AGUIRRE, WRATH OF GOD’ (1972), ©WERNER HERZOG FILMPRODUKTION

1973: Political Statements, Merchandizing, and Demons

On 27^th March 1973, Marlon Brando won an Oscar for his role in ‘The Godfather’. The actor sent Sacheen Littlefeather, a 26-year-old Apache, to refuse the Academy Award on his behalf, and to use the 45 seconds initially allocated to his speech to read out a 15-page statement instead. The brave young woman made her points about the portrayal of Native Americans in film and TV with courtesy and eloquence, drawing audience gasps and cheers. It wasn’t the first political upset at the Oscars, but it was certainly the most memorable. Charlton Heston called it ‘childish’, while Jane Fonda said that what Brando did ‘was wonderful’.

SACHEEN LITTLEFEATHER AT THE OSCARS, ©ACADEMY OF MOTION PICTURE ARTS AND SCIENCES

On 20^th August, George Lucas was still reaping the success of ‘American Graffiti’ (1973) and renegotiating his deal at Twentieth Century Fox for a science-fiction film. He didn’t ask for more money upfront but insisted on retaining all the merchandising rights of the film (this included income from any soundtrack album, tie-in book, or range of toys). At the time, few people understood how far-sighted the decision really was.

Merchandising rights were considered the ‘garbage’ of any contract, so no one thought much of it, until ‘Star Wars’ (1977) became the highest-grossing film of all time, and absolutely everything bearing its logo sold like hot and crispy powdered sugar beignets. His success with Star Wars merchandising went on to change the way movies were made, sold, promoted, then profited from.

GEORGE LUCAS ON THE SET OF ‘AMERICAN GRAFFITI’ (1973), ©UNIVERSAL PICTURES

This year also gave us William Friedkin’s ‘The Exorcist’ (1973), starring Ellen Burstyn, Linda Blair, Jason Miller, and Max von Sydow. The director’s insanely popular follow-up to ‘The French Connection’ (1971) is a textbook adaptation of William Peter Blatty’s novel, who also penned the screenplay. It is a wonderfully crafted example of how to balance the temporal and spiritual aspects of such a troubling story. But without the legitimate scepticism from Burstyn’s Chris MacNeil when a radical course of treatment is recommended for Blair’s Regan, her daughter, I doubt the climactic showdown between Miller’s young Damien Karras and the demon Pazuzu would’ve had such a striking effect.

‘THE EXORCIST’ (1973), ©WARNER BROS.

1975: The Year of Pacino, Nicholson, and O’Neal

In ‘The Passenger’ (1975), Michelangelo Antonioni uses an incredible seven-minute single take as his pinnacle, claiming that he made this decision purely because he didn’t wish to create a run-of-the-mill death scene for Jack Nicholson’s Locke. The influence of Michael Snow’s ‘Wavelength’ (1967), an underground gem of cinema, is downright palpable as the long-held static shot from inside the hotel room takes Nicholson out of shot, and the camera slowly moves towards and through the barred windows into the piazza. Cars arrive, along with key characters and cops… they all come and go in the space between the hotel and a bullring, and even the extras are given significance until the camera executes a 360-degree turn and returns to a now unidentifiable dead man on the hotel bed.

Three years earlier, on 22^nd August 1972, as Richard Nixon was nominated for a second term in office, John Wojtowicz walked into a Brooklyn branch of the Chase Manhattan Bank with a gun and declared a hold-up, desperate to get the money he needed for his gay lover’s sex-change operation. It was a seminal moment in America’s social landscape, and Warner Bros. were quick to make the most of it. They hired Sidney Lumet and gave the lead role to a young Al Pacino (then fresh off ‘Godfather II’), giving us ‘Dog Day Afternoon’ (1975), one of the most emotionally stirring films to come out of the Seventies altogether.

‘DOG DAY AFTERNOON’ (1975), ©WARNER BROS.

Stanley Kubrick’s ‘Barry Lyndon’ (1975), starring Ryan O’Neal and Leon Vitali, has the ideal melange of style, story, and feeling that a viewer might demand of a suspenseful movie. The story is about history as loss, and the camera barely moves. Its frames resemble paintings of times gone by with powerfully baroque vibes, and its chief stylistic signature is the reverse zoom, where the scene begins with a close-up as the camera moves back to give us the fuller, greater picture. The final duel doesn’t have any reverse zooms, though, yet it stands out as a profoundly touching moment, enriched with medium-distance shots or moodier long shots that connect the characters to their environment, while O’Neal’s self-seeking hero proves that he does have the makings of a gentleman, after all.

‘BARRY LYNDON’ (1975), ©WARNER BROS.

While George Lucas’s ‘Star Wars’ (1977) made history as the highest-grossing film one time, the blockbuster was born a couple of years earlier with ‘Jaws’ (1975), Steven Spielberg’s frightful oeuvre. By then, Mr Spielberg was already regarded as a wunderkind of cinema, but his shark tale turned him into a cultural force not only through the way in which he adapted Peter Benchley’s novel but also through the way in which ‘Jaws’ was marketed and promoted worldwide. Thanks to superb word-of-mouth and repeat viewers, the film racked up about $260 million, which was more than ‘Gone with the Wind’, then box-office-champion, had made. The jackpot mentality took hold after Spielberg’s horror flick, as studios spent millions to will megahits into creation.

‘JAWS’ (1975), ©UNIVERSAL PICTURES

1976: Scorsese, the Steadicam, and Stephen King

In Martin Scorsese’s ‘Taxi Driver’ (1976), camera work, along with Robert De Niro’s exquisite acting and hairstyle come together in one of the most jolting revelations of unleashed evil ever portrayed in American film. However, it’s not that easy to figure out the certainty of Travis Bickle’s terrifying psychosis. Even when he reads his diary entries about New York’s nastiest streets, or when he devises his quick-draw contraption to strap on his arm, or during his ‘You talkin’ to me?’ monologue, we’re still unsure. It could simply be the sharpness of puritanism. It’s at the rally for Senator Palatine that our doubts dissolve, when the camera lifts to Travis’s mohawk as he pops his pills. There, the ugly truth becomes impossible to reject.

‘TAXI DRIVER’ (1976), ©COLUMBIA PICTURES

In the early Seventies, cameraman Garrett Brown and Cinema Products, Inc. engineers developed the Steadicam system, which mounts the camera on a mobile, spring-leaded arm attached to a weight-bearing harness, thus giving hand-held camerawork the smoothness of a classical dolly. It was first used by Brown in 1976, in three major films: ‘Rocky’, ‘Bound for Glory’, and ‘Marathon Man’. Two years later, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (which often forgets that last bit of its remit) awarded Brown with a special technical Oscar to honour his invention. However, the Steadicam’s greatest first showcase happened later, with Stanley Kubrick’s ‘The Shining’ (1980), where the pioneering cameraman rushed around the corridors of the Overlook Hotel set, following the kid on his tricycle.

GARRETT BROWN ON SET WITH SYLVESTER STALLONE, ©CHARTOFF-WINKLER PRODUCTIONS

We all remember ‘Carrie’ (1976) as Brian de Palma’s adaptation of Stephen King’s first novel and the beginning of supernatural horror’s true form. We remember the pig’s blood scene at the prom and the mean girls flicking tampons at poor Carrie when she gets her first period after gym class. But what the film is also memorable for is its most blatant use of gratuitous shock when Carrie’s hand erupts from the ground to grab Sue—only it’s a bad dream, and Sue wakes up, and the terror that Carrie caused as revenge for how she was bullied is over. Other directors have shamelessly reused this gimmick, including John Cassavetes’s detonation at the end of ‘The Fury’ (1978) and Sean S. Cunningham in ‘Friday the 13^th’ (1980). It always seems to make us jump, though.

‘CARRIE’ (1976), ©RED BANK FILMS

1977: Family-Friendly Aliens and Bloody Ballet

In Steven Spielberg’s ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’ (1977), the magic moment when the spaceships form the Big Dipper in the sky marks the beginning of the director’s artful authorship. After hostile examples set by the likes of ‘The War of the Worlds’ (1953) and ‘Invasion of the Body Snatchers’ (1956), one might wonder why Richard Dreyfuss’s Roy Neary is so keen to meet aliens, especially after his own encounter left him sunburned only on the right side of his face. But he pursues this obsession throughout the film and all the way to Wyoming, on a secret platform on Devil’s Tower where scientists confirm what he already knows: aliens are here, and they’re ready to meet us.

‘CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND’ (1977), ©COLUMBIA PICTURES

‘Suspiria’ (1977) was Dario Argento’s first horror film. In it, he remembered the lesson learned during his time shooting gialli: murder scenes must be original set pieces that leave the viewer breathless. Therefore, the main character’s introduction is swiftly followed by the brutal murder of two girls at the hands of an almost invisible force. It’s a complicated double murder sequence, rife with unrestrained gruesomeness and symptomatic of the Seventies’ genre yet transcended by Argento’s calculated and daring aesthetic choices. Its theatricality is purveyed by the vast and empty Art Deco scenery, but also by Goblin’s saturated music theme.

‘SUSPIRIA’ (1977), ©SEDA SPETTACOLI

1979: Jazz and Killer Aliens

Bob Fosse was a choreographer before becoming a critically acclaimed director. ‘All That Jazz’ (1979), featuring Roy Scheider and Jessica Lange, is basically an autobiographical testament, as well as one of the most personal and original films to ever come out of Hollywood. Fosse’s strikingly bold approach deals with death in a romantic fashion as the movie is structured in the form of a dialogue between Scheider’s Gideon and his ‘angel of death’. It also adds a clinical angle through the open-heart surgery scenes and an ironic stab through the climactic song-and-dance sequences. A dazzling masterpiece of the silver screen, ‘All That Jazz’ deserved the Oscar for Best Film that ultimately went to ‘Kramer vs. Kramer’ that year.

Ridley Scott’s ‘Alien’ (1979) set a standard for gruesome and horrifying sci-fi effects—the first, in fact, to step away from the otherwise humanoid depictions of aliens offered by cinema up to that point. The emergence of the beast when it explodes from John Hurt’s chest is a stellar early example of the now-holy union between horror film and advanced body make-up.

‘ALIEN’ (1979), ©BRANDYWINE PRODUCTIONS

1980: Acting and Politics

There were two noteworthy events that best describe humanity’s first step into the Eighties. One came in the form of Stanley Kubrick’s ‘The Shining’ (1980), another Stephen King adaptation that secured its slot in the annals of cinematic history. The second came on 4^th November, when Ronald Reagan was elected as President of the United States—the one-time B-list actor and TV personality landed the greatest role of his life as the leader of the so-called ‘free world’. He understood the power of media spectacle and mass entertainment.

His presidency ultimately promoted a sentimental optimism and a certain detachment from reality. It was a triumph of stage management and a performance that recognized the value of that key big moment with its well-timed line. In the end, it also redefined the relationship between entertainment and politics.

©RONALD REAGAN LIBRARY

1982: Crossing the T’s

We conclude this cinematic period with three monumental works of feature-length film. Steven Lisberger’s ‘Tron’ (1982) is the first substantially computer-animated movie. The innovations it put forth irrevocably changed the special effects industry. Technically speaking, there are only 15 minutes of computer-generated imagery, but it’s a miracle that the digital imaging crew were able to produce any footage at all! It took four monolithic computers two hours to render a mere half-second of film. For that era, ‘Tron’ was extraordinary, and it shifted our view of SFX forever.

‘TRON’ (1982), ©WALT DISNEY PRODUCTIONS

Sydney Pollack’s ‘Tootsie’ (1982), starring Dustin Hoffman and Bill Murray, gives us a hilariously sentimental romp with an out-of-work but savagely uppity actor who ends up dressing like a woman and nailing the role of a female doctor on ‘Southwest General’. Murray’s Jeff is a key counterpart to Hoffman’s Dorsey. The failed playwright has few lines, but they anchor the film. In fact, his downbeat one-liners were never more effective than in ‘Tootsie’.

And last, but certainly not least, John Carpenter’s ‘The Thing’ (1982) provides us with the single greatest technical and artistic use of the bubbling-flesh effect. The late Seventies and early Eighties are basically the domain of Rob Bottin, Rick Baker, Chris Walas, and an assortment of other special makeup effects pioneers who created and serviced a boom market for transforming bodies of all kinds, particularly in the horror and sci-fi genres.

‘THE THING’ (1982), ©UNIVERSAL PICTURES

Requiring the hard work of 34 SFX makeup staffers (Rob Bottin and Stan Winston among them), ‘The Thing’ is a superficial remake of Howard Hawks’ ‘The Thing from Another World’ (1951) and a towering presence above every other entry in the field of bubbling flesh.

Carpenter’s film isn’t astonishing purely from a visual effects angle, either. The film comes with literary entertainment attached, an original text of science-fiction paranoia and assimilation terror which the director mines greedily.