War of the Worlds

Last but not least, to conclude this blog series I will be looking at film posters for War of the Worlds, based on the novel by H.G. Wells. The film was first made in 1953, directed by Byron Haskin and later remediated in 2005 and directed by Steven Spielberg. Similar to The Thing, these two posters maintain a great deal of visual and artistic similarities, and similar to Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the posters exhibit manifestations of post-war anxieties.

Since both film posters are quite similar in terms of visualization, I will examine them interchangeably. Despite the fact that they were made roughly 50 years apart, both films maintain images of the three-fingered claw in the process of grasping. While the poster on the left shows the claw reaching down from space into earth to grab a couple, the poster on the right shows the claw reaching up and holding Earth in its palm. These posters are clearly meant to show the immanence of an otherworldly force in the process of taking over the planet. However, what was shocking to me is the fact the posters do not explicitly evoke war. In fact, what they demonstrate is a power struggle in which the humans are inevitably losing to a more dominant force.

Given the historical context of the 1953 film, Soviet bomb scares and the recurrence of the atom bomb throughout the film hints at a more in depth interpretation of human relations with the Martians. In Robert Torry’s piece, “Apocalypse Then: Benefits of the Bomb in Fifties Science Fiction Films” for Cinema Journal, he aptly presents the triangular relationship between the bomb, the Martians, and the humans. He writes, “[The film’s] purpose is, ultimately, to imagine even in the horrific circumstances of American conflict with a technologically superior enemy an opportunity for beneficial apocalypse” (18). In short, even in the midst of nuclear advancement, the invasion of the Martians inevitably dooms mankind.

I’d like to argue that the 2005 film poster demonstrates similar notions of a “beneficial apocalypse.” The fact that claw is lifting Earth up in the palm of its hand might be demonstrating an almost necessary overtaking. I find it fascinating to note how the apocalyptic trend of the 1950’s is returning to contemporary media a half century later. Much of our media, despite the reality of our technological advancement, focuses on our ultimate demise as a planet, echoing the potential return of paranoia.

Torry, Robert. "Apocalypse Then: Benefits of the Bomb in Fifties Science Fiction Films." Cinema Journal 31.1 (1991): 7-21. JSTOR. Web.

Frankenstein

Among the countless Frankenstein remediations,  I will be speculating on the 1931 film directed by James Whale and I, Frankenstein from 2004, directed by Stuart Beattie . Not only does the timespan between these two films allow for a great deal of juxtaposition, but the visual representations of the creature in these two posters present drastically different interpretations of its character and humanity.

The 1931 film poster on the left presents probably the most stereotypical image of the creature, with the bolts in his neck, the enlarged forehead, and the green-colored skin. There are a number of elements that comprise this poster, including the scene of its “birth” on the operating table as well as simple full-body image of the creature. Another seemingly insignificant detail is the phrase “A Chilling Thriller” included above the cast list. What this poster presents outright is the sheer inhumanity of the creature, in that its appearance, its unnatural birth, and its horrifying presence are what constitute its character. Its face is nothing short of menacing, with its furrowed eyebrow and the disturbing way it smirks. This poster arguably represents the way in which the society at this time approached difference, in that the creature can in no way be capable of human emotion or logic; it is simply a monster.

Conversely, the 2004 film poster for I Frankenstein presents a strikingly different approach to the creature’s appearance. Rather than focusing on the stereotypical appearance with the green skin and bolts in its neck, the creature here looks surprisingly human. The prominent scar on his face might signify how Frankenstein sewed his skin to attach the different body parts, but at the same time, scar tissue is a very human thing. I would argue that this poster purposely tries to highlight the humanity of the creature, rather than the monstrosity. While there is some chaos in the background with the flames and the flying beasts, the creature is removed from that chaos. The look in his eyes might evoke anger, but it might just as easily demonstrate the way in which his alienation from society has driven him to the peak of his torment.  I think the purpose here is to bring the creature out of the realm of monsters and into the realm of contemporary society as a more human figure.

The Thing

The Thing is yet another film that has been remediated several times. The two film posters I want to look at are from 1982 and 2011 films directed by, respectively, John Carpenter and Matthijs van Heijningen, Jr.  Compared to the last few posters, these are actually quite similar in visual appearance. However, various elements such as the taglines, and the images of the thing can offer varied interpretations on the creature’s monstrosity, or lack thereof.

In the 1982 film poster, we see a very blue, very icy-looking landscape, alluding to the fact that the narrative takes place in Antarctica. We can assume that the figure presented is the thing itself, with a shining bright light in place of its face. I would say the most striking feature of this film poster is the tagline, which reads, “The ultimate in alien terror.” Oddly enough, the thing in this poster does not appear even the slightest bit alien. It simply looks like a man wearing a snowsuit, lacking any stereotypically "alien" attributes such as tentacles, claws, or scales. This poster seems to be presenting an extremely complex image of the thing, in that visually it looks human, but in reality it is an alien terror.

We might look to poster number two for comparison. The image on the right presents a similar icy landscape, and the negative space presents a contrasting relationship between the white snow and the black background. The thing is pictured again in a snowsuit, but instead of hands it possesses what look like claws, which certainly draws attention to its alien-ness. The tagline below the title reads, “It’s not human yet.” The poster alludes to the idea of the visible alien becoming human rather than the visible human becoming alien. Similar to the 1982 poster, it conveys a great deal of contrast between text and image. The 1982 interpretation seems to focus more on the uncanny as invoking fear, while the 2011 poster dwells more on outward monstrosity as invoking fear, similar to my speculations on Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

Alien

The Alien series began in 1979 with Ridley Scott’s original and continued shortly after with James Cameron’s sequel in 1986. The films speculate on the presence of alien life on another planet, and while these posters cover the same storyline and the same themes, they use different techniques of rendering the alien: one more strikingly maternal and one more jarring and masculine. These portrayals represent contrasting ways of defining monstrosity and eliciting fear. 

The poster on the left is minimalist overall, and it offers a certain degree of mystery with an image of a single egg that is slight cracked. The egg does not reveal the slightest trace of the alien's apperance, apart from the ambiguous green mist seeping out of the crack. I would argue that this poster presents an innately maternal image of the alien, given the presence of the egg. Despite the fact that neither mother nor child is visually present in the poster, the singularity of the egg demonstrates this idea vividly. There have been reams of feminist theories on this film series in particular, and in Stephen Scoobie’s article, “What’s the Story, Mother?” he perfectly characterizes themes of matriarchy in the film. He writes, “This image of the mother as the object of fear, horror, awe, or dreadful fascination is focussed primarily on the Alien herself, especially the Queen Alien of the second film: her "voracious maw," her "mysterious black hole"(Creed 136). "Ripley's foe," writes Lynda K Buntzen, "is a primal mother defined solely by her devouring jaws and her prolific egg-production" (12).” (82). Could we then argue that this poster reveals notions of the monstrous feminine?

On the other hand, the poster on the right, taken from James Cameron’s 1986 sequel departs significantly from the maternal visualization on the left. The alien is pictured facing forward, and its distinct jawline, characteristic of males, combined with the harsh angles suggests a more patriarchal interpretation of the alien. The departure from the maternal could be the director’s preference, but it clearly demonstrates the ways in which visual perspective might re-characterize the fear of the alien perhaps as less a fear of the monstrous feminine, but rather a fear of masculine power and dominance.  This portrayal might also be more likely to appeal to popular culture, in that its vicious and technologically-advanced visage could be relevant for the fast-paced society we live in.


Scobie, Stephen. "What's the Story, Mother?: The Mourning of the Alien." Science Fiction Studies 20.1 (1993): 80-93. JSTOR. Web. 

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

Invasion of the Body Snatchers was first filmed in 1956, directed Don Siegel and then later remediated in 1978 by Philip Kaufman. It was one of the first films to introduce the concept of cloning, eliciting fears of a human race being taken over by humanoids who lack any moral or emotional agency. While both films maintain similar plot lines, the varied renderings of their posters suggest the contrasting ways in which they approach cloning, human agency, and cultural fears.

The poster on the left comes from the 1956 version, and I would say that at first glance, it looks nothing like a science fiction film. The two most prominent elements of the poster are the groups of people scattered throughout, moving from the foreground to the background, as well as the handprint stretching across the entire space. The poster is meant to look as if the humans are running from something, and the handprint suggests that what they are running from is actually quite human, devoid of monstrosity.

This visualization might suggest a sort of reverse colonialism, but minus the racial undertones. With the postwar apprehensions during this time period, many feared political upheaval from the inside. In Katrina Mann’s article for Cinema Journal, she writes, “The ubiquitous homogeneity of Invasion of the Body Snatchers sutured audience identification to an idealized suburban whiteness besieged by outsiders who force a new and foreign version of “mongrelized” homogeneity on a suburban town” (52). In a way, this poster represents how, with the lack of explicit racialization and difference, this community fears the uncanny more than what is more obviously 'other'.

On the other hand, the poster from the 1978 collector’s edition presents a completely different rendering of the same theme. Only two individuals are displayed facing each other with some kind of transmission taking place between them. Rather than displaying a community running from a humanoid force, we are presented with figures that look outwardly alien. A key aspect of this poster rests on the fact that, similar to the 1956 poster, we cannot tell which is the true human and which is the humanoid; yet, both seem to look alien. I would argue that that, as demonstrated by the poster, the film does not hinge as much on the fear of the uncanny, or familiarity, but rather it hinges more on visual difference and explicit alien-ness. Similar to the 1956 poster, a certain fear of reverse colonialism that might stem from the ongoing Cold War is present; but rather than being subject to homogeneity, the fear stems from difference, or, arguably, racialized difference.


Mann, Katrina. ""You're Next!": Postwar Hegemony Besieged in "Invasion of the Body Snatchers"" Cinema Journal 44.1 (2004): 49-68. JSTOR. Web.