#h.g. wells' things to come

[letterboxd-loggd]

Things to Come (1936) William Cameron Menzies

September 18th 2024

[humanoidhistory]

Swedish poster for Things to Come, 1936, with Art Deco design by Moje Aslund.

[thevaultofretroscifi]

[of-fear-and-love]

TV screens of the year 2036, from Things to Come (1936)

[schlock-luster-video]

On May 6, 1938, Things to Come debuted in Italy.

[movie-titlecards]

The Shape of Things to Come (1979)

My rating: 4/10

A bunch of silly nonsense happens, involving cardboard sets and cardboard characters. Possibly the most notable thing in this is that it has a saucer separation (several, in fact, each excruciatingly long of course) almost a whole decade before TNG.

[rwpohl]

things to come, william cameron menzies 1936

[byneddiedingo]

H.G. Wells, Pearl Argyle, and Raymond Massey on the set of Things to Come

Things to Come (William Cameron Menzies, 1936)

Cast: Raymond Massey, Edward Chapman, Ralph Richardson, Margaretta Scott, Cedric Hardwick, Maurice Braddell, Sophie Stewart, Derrrick De Marney, Ann Todd, Pearl Argyle. Screenplay: H.G. Wells, based on his novel. Cinematography: Georges Périnal. Production design: Vincent Korda. Costume design: John Armstrong, René Hubert, Cathleen Mann. Film editing: Charles Crichton, Francis D. Lyon. Music: Arthur Bliss.

Works of fiction that pretend to depict things as they will be in a specific place and year tend to look a little foolish when that year actually comes. The years 1984 and 2001 didn't turn out to be precisely as George Orwell and Arthur C. Clarke envisioned them. But neither Orwell nor Clarke expected them to: Both were extrapolating from what they saw about the times in which they were writing. Orwell was viewing with alarm the struggle for power in 1949, and Clarke was elaborating on thoughts he had about the relationship of man, technology, and nature -- for good or ill -- in a series of stories beginning with "The Sentinel" in 1948. It's significant that both of these writers were working from a post-World War II point of view. But Things to Come starts from a very different place: England just before the second World War. H.G. Wells's 1933 The Shape of Things to Come was a meditation on a utopia founded on science, replacing religions, and a world government, replacing nationalism. The adaptation of these ideas in Wells's screenplay involves a world on the brink of war at Christmas, 1936 -- less than three years before the world actually went to war. Wells didn't have to wait long to see the ideas in the film superseded by reality. In the film the conflict lasts 40 years, and is devastating to the old order of things. There arises a kind of technotopia, which then has to battle with (and triumph over) reactionary, anti-science forces. We no longer have the kind of undimmed faith in technology to solve all problems that Wells possessed -- in fact, if the atomic outcome of World War II is any indicator, technology presents as many problems as it solves for humankind. Things to Come is muddled but fascinating: It raises the right questions while providing unsatisfactory answers. The best things in the film are the ones closest to home. For example, Ralph Richardson's performance as the dictator known as "The Boss" -- a slangy translation of Il Duce. Richardson's eccentric manner is the key to the role, and he plays it to the hilt. Unfortunately, Menzies, a gifted designer, wasn't much of a director, and he surrounds Richardson with inferior performers: Margaretta Scott, who had a long career once she grew accustomed to film acting, here recites her lines as if reading them for the first time and assumes poses copied from silent film vamps. For contemporary viewers, the most interesting things about the film are the set designs by Vincent Korda and the fantasias about what people will be wearing in 2036 -- which in Wells's scheme of things is the year of the first voyage around the moon. The costumes are credited to John Armstrong, René Hubert, and the Marchioness of Queensberry. (Her given name was Cathleen Mann; a portrait painter and costumer, she was married to the 11th Marquess of Queensberry from 1926 to 1946.)

[lazyflower48]

I'm getting quite impatient waiting for the next episode, so I'm just going to list all the possible s5 endings that I can think of along with the popular ones that I've come across

▪︎ The good ending AKA the delusional ending

Verlaine, Natsume, Yosano, H.G. Wells or someone- ANYONE shows up to save the day and then everything gets resolved and returns to normal. And so everyone lives happily ever after

▪︎ The sad but hopeful ending

Aya's ability is revealed, Bram's backstory followed by his death, which results in the vampirism being nullified. The DoA loses. Fukuchi dies/gets caught. Dazai has a plan. He and Chuuya take down Fyodor together in true Soukoku fashion. Fyodor dies/gets caught.

▪︎ The fake out ending

Dazai dies, Fukuzawa dies, basically anyone who is on the verge of death of death, dies BUT someone finds the book or the page (someone from ADA? Atsushi?) and brings them all back.

▪︎ The bad (sad) ending

Fukuzawa dies and everything falls apart. Atsushi loses control of his ability. It's the end of ADA (Goodbye Twilight theory- The ADA oversees the twilight so it's a goodbye to the agency)

▪︎ The doomed bungover ending

The whole world ends, and everyone just freaking dies. *55 minutes flashback intensifies*

▪︎ The Ranpo ending

Ranpo has a plan beyond the whole "trapping Fukuchi in Poe's novel" thing (in Ranpo we trust)

▪︎ The best ending

It's a rightfully deserved beach episode! (The past 2 seasons were not real. All the characters are alive and well, being silly as usual)

If Asagiri is involved in the making of the next episode (which he most likely is), then knowing him, he's probably gonna defy our expectations and write the most unpredictable ending for this season

[tylermileslockett]

HERMES

“I sing of Cyllenian Hermes, the Slayer of Argus, lord of Cyllene and Arcadia rich in flocks, luck-bringing messenger of the deathless gods. He was born of Maia, the daughter of Atlas, when she had made with Zeus, -- a shy goddess she…. And so hail to you, Son of Zeus and Maia; with you I have begun: now I will turn to another song! Hail, Hermes, giver of grace, guide, and giver of good things! (-Homeric Hymn, translated by H.G. Evelyn white)

HERMES (HUR-meez), is the trickster herald and messenger of the gods, as well as god of diplomacy, commerce, travelers, and trade. He is one of the few deities with the power to move between the earthly and underworld realms. Initially he was portrayed as middle aged with dark beard and long locks, but later he was portrayed as a beardless youth. He created the first musical instruments, the lyre and flute, and, interestingly, was the father of goat legged Pan. 

Hermes is a psychopomp; (a leader of spirits into the Underworld.)  He also appears as an ally to mortals in a number in myths:. Hermes assists Perseus by providing an adamantine sickle sword to behead Medusa, and in the Odyssey, Hermes assists Odysseus by providing a magic herb to protect the hero against the witchcraft of Circe. 

Hermes mother is Maia, one of the PleiadesPleaides, who eventually became constellations. With this ancestry, Hermes has associations with both Astronomy (sky constellations) and astrology (zodiac signs surrounding his herald’s wand). He was also the god of sleep, and could put mortals to sleep or wake them up with his wand. Being the god of travelers and herds, at the bottom we can see stone markers called Herma, and a herd of sheep.

Want to own my Illustrated Greek myth book jam packed with over 130 illustrations like this? Support my book kickstarter "Lockett Illustrated: Greek Gods and Heroes" coming in early 2024. check my bio LINKTREE

[deathtodickens]

Later...

Claudia: Why do you look like that, man?

Pete: I can't get this bronzer to come off.

Claudia: Did you get the temporary stuff?

Pete: Tem... porary?

Claudia: Dude.

Pete: Huh, well that explains that.

Claudia: Why do you even have it on to begin with? And so much?

Steve enters the kitchen, stops and stares at Pete.

Steve: Who won an Oscar?

Claudia laughs, pointing at Pete.

Pete: Ha ha very funny.

Claudia: It was.

Pete: Hey, leave the jokes to a professional, okay? Of which, I am.

Steve: Not at all shockingly, you truly believe that.

Pete: It's the first day of October. I'm just trying out a few costumes before the 31st, to see if I can get H.G. back into the spirit of Halloween.

Steve: I wish you were lying.

Claudia: Do we want H.G. back in the spirit of Halloween? I recall the last Halloween that she was into being a bit too spirity.

Pete: Of course, we do--

Steve: Not. We absolutely do not. Do you not remember what happened?

Pete: Yeah, we all went on an amazingly awesome adventure in the Warehouse, together, as a family. We fought off animated Halloween decorations that stalked us in the dark. Myka used the zip-line upside-down like a bad ass to save her wife from encroaching darkness. And then we blew up every light in the warehouse to level an army of murderous, soul-snatching plastic skeletons--

Steve: That took us days to clean up...

Claudia: I'm still changing lightbulbs...

Pete: --and I'm not so sure all of those skeletons were plastic.

Claudia: It was kind of fun blowing up the Warehouse. You know, in a not-destructive kind of way.

Steve: No, no. It was destructive. It was a very destructive kind of way.

Claudia: Right. Sure. But we didn't have to artifact it back.

Pete: What's another warehouse explosion amongst friends, huh?

Claudia: I mean, I do still have some light bombs stashed away in my room. Don't tell Artie.

Pete: That's the spirit!

Steve: I just want to drink hot tea, read a book, and watch the weather change from the comfort of my own bed, in my own room. Is that so much to ask?

Steve does not wait for an answer. He turns and leaves the kitchen.

Abigail enters in his place, she stops and stares at Pete.

Then bursts into laughter.

Abigail: I really thought Myka was pulling my leg when she said you'd lathered yourself up in bronzer, just to play a prank on Helena.

Pete: It wasn't a prank. It was encouragement. She loves Halloween!

Abigail: She loved Halloween. I think the soul-snatching skeletal remains of a Spirit Halloween clearance sale sucked that love right out of her.

Pete: Well. She liked my costume.

Abigail: That's not what I heard.

Pete: Then you've heard nothing but dirty, rotten lies.

Abigail: Did she seem amused when you revealed your costume?

Pete: She didn't seem entirely unamused.

Abigail arches a skeptical brow at Pete.

Claudia: What was the prank?

Pete: Not a prank.

Claudia: What was the not-a-prank?

Abigail: Apparently, when Helena questioned him about (Abigail gestures toward Pete with her hand) this, he said, very enthusiastically, that he'd been bronzed.

Claudia: Peter Jenkins Lattimer.

Pete: That is not my middle name.

Claudia: The woman has trauma!

Pete: It was inspiration!

Claudia: Fueled by nightmares!

Abigail: I don't think the woman who spent a century encased in bronze needs to be inspired. Like, at all.

Pete: That was a century ago.

Claudia: No, it started a century ago. She's barely been free for one decade.

Abigail: You do know she remained conscious the entire time.

Pete: I know she remained conscious the entire time.

Claudia: And was so fucked up when she got out, all she wanted to do was destroy the world and everyone in it.

Pete: I mean, I was there. So yeah. I do recall her attempting to, at one point in time, destroy the world and everyone in it. Thankfully Myka's hotness saved our asses.

Claudia gasps.

Pete: What?

Claudia: You did bronzeface!

Pete: What? No. That's not a thing.

Claudia: You're doing it right now!

Pete looks to Abigail.

Abigail: Don't look at me. I was born this way.

Claudia: I can't believe you did bronzeface at H.G.

Pete: Stop saying it like it's a thing.

Claudia: People from the bronze sector do not deserve to be mocked in your incessant quest for validation and frights.

Pete: They are literally criminals.

Abigail: Wow, Pete. I really thought better of you.

Pete: You know what, I'm just going to go take a very long and very hot shower until either the bronzer or my skin comes off. Whichever happens first.

Pete exits.

Claudia, laughing and calling after Pete: Hey, maybe try painting yourself blue tomorrow instead. Pretty sure none of us has ever been Smurfed.

Claudia and Abigail fall into a fit of laughter.

Somewhere between the kitchen and the upstairs bathroom, Pete retrieves his phone from his pocket and says, "Hey Siri?"

She appears.

And Pete whispers into his phone, "What is bronzeface?"

[humanoidhistory]

A rough landing in British illustrator Reg Hill's pre-production art for The Shape of Things to Come, 1979.

[ninja-muse]

The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door by H.G. Parry is like coming home after a long day and having someone to share a comforting, knowing sigh with. It's hot tea on a blustery weekend, a beam of light splitting rain clouds, and an acknowledgement that the world has always been complicated and imperfect and worth fighting for. It is, in other words, another pretty much perfect novel from Parry and as written for me as I thought it would be.

I don't know where to begin, really. My instinct right now is to wave my hands dramatically and say: this! this! so good! everything! just! aaah! Which is, I realize, not all that helpful. So let's start with the fact that this is a memoir. Clover, the narrator, has lived the story already and is telling us what happened, with compassion for her younger self, and criticism, and regrets, and a commitment to the truth. It feels very much like other books I've read looking back at the time between the wars, that mix of nostalgia for youth and excitement and novelty, and awareness that it can't last, that it was spurred on by a world that had fractured, that there was darkness at the edges of everything. (This has to be intentional; the book begins in 1920.)

This is also a magic school novel. It's a story of a girl fighting her way into a magical university, determined to find a way to break the faerie curse on her veteran brother. It's about finding a friend group and falling into research and learning about a hidden world. It's about the joy, and the pain, of striking out on your own as an adult. And it's about what happens when all of your hopes and dreams go awry, as well as the dangers of messing with the fae. It's not quite dark academia, but it's certainly on that continuum.

Where Parry really excels though, here and always, is her characters. Clover feels real. Her friends and family feel real. They're people shaped by their circumstances, full of complexity and contradictions, not beings whipped up by an author or puppets on a stage to further an end. They do things and make mistakes that take the story in unexpected directions and, generally, lend the book a richness that a lot of novels lack. That's one of the reasons I'm calling this a memoir. It felt like I was reading something that actually happened, told by someone who experienced history.

So: we've got the 1920s, a magical school, faerie lore. That could easily lead to something trite and repetitive, but Parry lends it all so much nuance, so much shading, that even when it felt familiar, it also felt fresh. (For instance, a lot of the faerie stuff reminds me of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, but tackled from a different angle.) I loved the way the themes and narrative wove together, the way Parry believably builds up the historical world, the way she has of foreshadowing and then surprising the reader anyway. The way she merged the tropes and "genres" together felt seamless and, dare I say, magical.

You might notice that I haven't really said much about what the book's about or what happens in it. I don't think I can, without ruining the experience. I can't very well say this goes in unexpected directions if I also tell you what to expect, after all, and a lot of what Parry is actually talking about will be more powerful if you have to put the pieces together in time with the characters. I went in blind, knowing only what was in the reasonably unhelpful blurb, and my experience was all the better for it.

In short, this was a wonderful read and one that pulled me in and kept me close. If you're a fan of anything I've mentioned in this review—Oxford novels, magic schools, dark faeries, character-driven stories, the 1920s, etc—I highly recommend checking this out, especially if you've been on the fence about it. Take this review as a sign.

[thiswindyplace]

'You know that great pause that comes upon things before dusk; even the breeze stops in the trees. To me there is always an air of expectation about that evening stillness.'

H.G. Wells

[schlock-luster-video]

On August 29, 1936, Things to Come debuted in Uruguay.

[astramachina]

did you guys know i'm a writer? yeah i had no idea either.

anyway, AMAPOLAS IN THE DESERT is a new short story (3.4k words) that just went up for free on patreon if anyone's feeling zesty and wants to read about a displaced latino roaming the american southwest, coming across a questionable watering hole, getting flirted with by trickster gods, and getting torn asunder by a trans woman who may or may not be a primordial deity.

but also, for like a whole $1, you can get access to a T4T sci-fi romance short (8k words) inspired by H.G. Wells' The Time Machine.

but also also, i've got a couple of nonfiction essays dropping next year where i set out to piss people off by arguing that their favorite pieces of media are grossly mis-categorized (in a fun and non-judgy way; and who knows, it might make it onto podcast or even video format if i can afford to outsource editing). among other things.