Dystopian movies

By the time you read this, two things are likely: (1) The United States will have elected a new president (hopefully) and (2) roughly half the electorate believes the result will spell the end of America as we know it. Few elections in recent memory have invited as much rampant fear of a dystopian future — and from both sides of the political spectrum, no less.

Which got me thinking about dystopian cinema. With the election over (again, hopefully), it might be a fun and instructive diversion to consider what Hollywood has had to tell us about what might be in store if our darkest nightmares are allowed to breathe.

I have movie recommendations, but with the caveat that I chose not to include films already largely ensconced in our pop culture consciousness. That means no big dystopia franchises (The Matrix, The Hunger Games, Planet of the Apes, etc.), blockbusters (The Fifth Element, Minority Report, etc.) or anything from the holy pantheon of dystopias on celluloid (I’m looking at you, Blade Runner and A Clockwork Orange, among others).

Read on at your own peril… 

Metropolis (1927)

Fritz Lang’s science-fiction epic is a masterpiece of the silent era and the granddaddy of dystopian cinema. The German moviemaker, enchanted by New York’s skyscrapers during an overseas trip in 1924, drew inspiration for what would be Metropolis. Set in the faraway year of 2000, it examines the chasm between the Haves and Have-Nots amid a fantastical city. The story’s political themes feel naïve and simplistic today, but what makes Metropolis great is the grandness of its scale and visual splendor. Lang took more than a year to make this pinnacle of German expressionism, shooting more than 2 million feet of film and employing nearly 36,000 extras. (Streaming on Amazon, Apple, Kanopy, Roku and Plex)

Death Race 2000 (1975)

B-movie king Roger Corman devised Death Race 2000 to cash in on the popularity at the time of Rollerball, but this drive-in confection turned out to be no knockoff. The year is 2000, and the nation is captivated by a cross-country auto race in which the competitors score points for hitting spectators. But the kills are cartoonish, with director Paul Bartel opting for lowbrow comedy and high camp. Oh, and boobs. David Carradine and then-unknown Sylvester Stallone (whose offscreen time was spent writing a boxing movie for himself to star in) head up a goofily game cast. (Streaming on Amazon, Apple and Tubi)

A Boy and His Dog (1975)

Set in 2024, A Boy and His Dog lets viewers know upfront that society has been obliterated by World War IV. Don Johnson plays Vic, a young scavenger roaming the sunbaked desert with his trusty dog, Blood. It’s an unconventional relationship. They communicate telepathically. Vic provides the surprisingly erudite canine with food, and in return, Blood steers Vic toward women to rape. In other words, this is full-fledged Seventies’ exploitation, yet the script by sci-fi great Harlan Ellison, based on his own novella, is funnier and more entertaining than its premise would lead you to believe. Director L.Q. Jones manages a perversely comic tone, and his take on post-apocalyptic life sets the stage for the Mad Max flicks. (Streaming on Amazon, Apple, Roku, Plex and Tubi)

Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981)

RoboCop (1987)

Poor Detroit. While Motor City has long been caricatured as a crime-infested hellhole, at least RoboCop made it wickedly fun. Set in the futuristic year of 1991(!), it plops us into a city plagued by criminal gangs, one of which mows down squeaky-clean cop Murphy (Peter Weller). Thanks to corporate behemoth Omni Consumer Products, the left-for-dead officer is transformed into a nearly indestructible crimefighting quasi-robot. Boffo action sequences ensue. RoboCop deftly skewers corporate greed via wonderfully broad comic performances from Ronny Cox and Miguel Ferrer as rival Omni executives. Some of the picture’s satirical bite has dimmed with time, but the narrative still packs a wallop. Bonus fact: RoboCop marked the film debut of Norman native and veteran character actor Darryl Cox. (Streaming on Amazon, Apple and Max)

12 Monkeys (1995)

Gattaca (1997)

Rarely are visions of dystopia this philosophically rich. In his feature debut, writer-director Andrew Niccol conjures up a future where eugenics have created two classes of people: one of physical perfection and the other of second-tier schlubs with poor eyesight, crooked teeth and everything else with which we modern-day meatheads must grapple. Ethan Hawke portrays one of the latter types who undergoes a grueling transformation to pass himself off as the former. Elegantly shot and bolstered by a stellar cast — Jude Law and Uma Thurman are particular standouts — Gattaca ponders the ethical limits of genetic engineering like only the most thoughtful science fiction can. (Streaming on Amazon, Apple and Max)

Battle Royale (2000)

The Hunger Games and its many imitators have this Japanese import to thank for their distinctly brutal take on humanity’s future. In the wake of economic and societal collapse, 40 Japanese ninth-graders leave for what they think is a school field trip, are drugged and awaken on a remote island. Their teacher (Takeshi Kitano) dutifully explains to the kiddos, “Today’s lesson is you get to kill each other off … until there’s only one of you left.” The sundry dramas of high school, which range from crushes to cliques, become literally weaponized. Battle Royale director Kinji Fukasaku captures a remarkable tone teetering between darkly funny and emotionally gripping — occasionally simultaneously. (Streaming on Amazon, Apple, AMC on Demand, Kanopy, Plex and Tubi)

Idiocracy (2006)

Writer-director Mike Judge’s Idiocracy lampoons the idiotic even while reveling in it. Based on the conceit that future America will be overrun with stupidity — presumably because dummies breed more than smarties — the cult comedy is often hilarious but also blind to its own issues with racism, sexism, elitism and homophobia. Example: Luke Wilson and Maya Rudolph play modern-day test subjects selected by the military for their average intelligence; tellingly, average male Wilson is a passive Army clerk, while average female Rudolph is a prostitute. Cryogenically frozen, they awaken 500 years later in a nation where people use Gatorade as water, are glued to a TV show called Ow! My Balls! and are governed by a former pro wrestler and porn star. It didn’t seem all that far-fetched in 2006, and even less so 18 years later. (Streaming on Amazon, Apple and Hulu)

Dredd (2012)

Rampant crime and authoritarianism are dystopian catnip, and Dredd feasts on our collective fears of both. It’s a mystery to me how this nonstop actioner, directed by Pete Travis and based on a British comic book, did not become a gargantuan hit. Karl Urban plays Judge Dredd, a one-man jury-judge-executioner tasked with ensuring justice in dangerously overcrowded Mega-City One. That Urban even registers much of a presence, and he does, is especially impressive when you consider that Dredd’s helmet obscures all but the actor’s mouth and jaw. (Streaming on Amazon, Apple and Tubi)

This article appears in Queen of Oklahoma.