Fear Itself: Sci-Fi's Fundamental Xenophobia

If you haven’t yet read the original story upon which The Day the Earth Stood Still is based (Harry Bates' "Farewell to the Master," Astounding Science Fiction, October 1940), it can be found at The Nostalgia League Library here. I want to focus on some particular elements that did not make it to the screenplay as well as those elements that were added to increase the film’s popular appeal and play into the growing cultural hegemony of post-WW II America. In particular, what do the inclusion of a love interest, Christian sensibility and altered ending reflect as influences within the film’s culture and times? I would argue that cultural, ethnic and mythological iconography provides the metaphorical foundation upon which an enhanced American xenophobia is formed in the 1950s. This story and film represent cultural layering built on fundamental fear, conditioning the audience to adapt through fantasia.

Adaptations often suffer criticism when a film strays from the author’s pure, original intent. Other times the adaptation illuminates meaning in a new context that brings original intent to new heights of significance. Similarly the New Testament builds on the Torah or Old Testament, incorporating its precepts while informing the foundational text with retrospective meaning. One example rests with the prophetic nature of Psalm 22, presaging Christ’s crucifixion before that execution method became preferred by Roman conquerors. Correspondences build between this informing practice and the Americanization of other mythological traditions: pagan, Nordic, Semitic and Asiatic alike. Ultimately I apply this methodology to the history of science fiction and the development of the Superman mythos during the Weisinger years.

The Mediaeval Church worked hard to distance itself from its Judaic roots by casting Jews as outsiders, a condition that extended well into the 20th century. Consequently, despite their preeminence as ethical and moral storytellers steeped in Talmudic tradition, Jewish writers either wrote in secret or assimilated the dominant cultural elements in their narratives. Though not exclusively Jewish, early pulp and science fiction writers drew from their outsider status to create fantastic extrapolations based on burgeoning technology from the military-industrial complex. Emboldened by the ethnic and commercial freedom afforded by the American entertainment industry, these writers found employment and fellowship while tapping into public consciousness and phobias, not the least of which was the fear of outsiders.

Both in its debut decade and with subsequent audiences few people would have read the source material for The Day the Earth Stood Still. Nevertheless, with a movie remake on the horizon (starring Keanu Reeves as Klaatu), the time couldn’t be better to ask what has changed between the 1930s-40s pulp science fiction source material, its transformation by Hollywood, and what might preserve its relevance to a contemporary audience. Harry Bates’ original adventure story backgrounds our unending fascination with extraterrestrial as well as extra-dimensional first contacts.

“Farewell to the Master” begins appropriately at the Smithsonian’s Interplanetary Wing three months after the alien’s arrival (5:00 pm, September 16th, year unknown). A “time-space traveler,” Klaatu’s entombed body lies in a continuing state of newsworthiness, viewed by “visitors come from all over the Solar System” in a future where an Earth spaceship has just landed on Mars. Protagonist and “freelance picture reporter” Cliff Sutherland looks for a new “angle” on the story behind this visitor from the Unknown on display with his eight-foot robot companion, Gnut.

In the form of the museum’s public address system, Bates’ narrative flashes back as an alien entombment exhibition voiceover. The fact that Klaatu’s ship materializes rather than lands, perhaps “from the far corner of the Universe, from a distance which light itself would require millions of years to cross,” proves this visitor the ultimate outsider. Subsequently the fact of his otherworldliness leads the population from great consternation and fear to military mobilization, however useless in the face of such omnipotence.

Despite looking like a “benign god,” offering his raised right arm high as “the universal gesture of peace,” Klaatu is gunned-down by a lone sniper. “Crying that the devil had come to kill everyone on Earth,” this “mentally unbalanced” slayer breaks ranks to bring Klaatu down. Nonetheless, everyone is required to mourn, since other potential aliens “had to be impressed by the sincere sorrow of us Earthmen.” Gnut and the silent ship rest until the museum wing is built around them, encased with Klaatu’s mausoleum. The Earth’s shared grief and contrition must be displayed to protect us from future wrath.

The recording’s final admonishment provides the rationale for our universal penitence: “Look well, for before you stand stark symbols of the achievement, mystery and frailty of the human race.” Xenophobic guilt drives mankind to subsume its fear for the sake of the greater good. Ultimately Cliff must overcome his fear of retribution in order to learn the truth about Klaatu and Gnut. The story’s final revelation places a secret burden on Cliff that he must maintain in order to preserve this fear in others.