Having finally acquired the blu-ray of this restored Czechoslovak science fiction masterpiece, obviously it was a no-brainer to review this film, which I have only previously seen in its edited form as the American English dub titled, Voyage to the End of the Universe. Exciting!
Charged with investigating the possible existence of lifeforms on the planets within the Alpha Centauri star system, the crew of the Ikarie is a mix of emotions. The film opens with a crew member, Michael, in the middle of a delirious fit whilst some of the other crew are following him through surveillance and using the intercom to coax him into calming down. However, they all have their own priorities but I won’t spoil them. The core of the story is that each character is struggling in their own way to adapt to their time in space for their own specific reasons.
The technical work here alone is worth serious discussion. There is a considerable amount of alternating between closeups and wide shots; the former for the crew watching others from the control room, and the latter when the crew are moving around the halls on personal business. Generally, you would expect the opposite because of the impersonal vs. personal behavior of the characters, but this subversion works as a sort of comment on the characters perhaps prioritizing trivial things to the exclusion of serious matters.
The costume design is incredible due to the fact that it doesn’t completely date the film. Were it not for the special effects and the manner of speech, the film’s aesthetic design could be chalked up as intentionally evoking the 1950s in the same way as the Fallout video game series. As opposed to the ridiculously overblown costumes of American scifi works from the same period, people are wearing suits, dinner jackets, dresses, and trousers (a point made even more clear when the crew encounter another ship), as opposed to the typical Hollywood 60s scifi outfits that were caught somewhere between deep sea diving-chic and protective gear for people who for some reason might choose to hurtle themselves towards moving boulders. When the space suits come out, it’s a different story, with the suits resembling miniaturized forms of Robby the Robot, but it’s not too comical even if you get that reference. It’s a nice touch and really emphasizes the humanity and banality of the characters, despite their extraordinary task.
The sound design and score remind me of Delia Derbyshire’s Doctor Who theme, that sort of obviously new at the time and clearly electronic but not hokey at all. If anything, it makes me think of the retrofuturism and amorphism of Broadcast or the later keyboard-driven works of Stereolab. The sound effects are definitely 60s, but the diegetic and non-diegetic music (the former of which is showcased early on in a sorta-kinda rockabilly dance scene that’s well worth the price of admission) are more in line with minimalist drone works and neoclassicism. It’s nothing that’s going to make you think, “Oh this was totally made in 1963” and it’s a nice reminder of why this movie was so great even if US audiences didn’t get to appreciate its pure form.
In the tradition of great scifi works, the film is more concerned with its human characters and their inner and outer conflicts and the actual science fiction elements form a mere backdrop. This is not a “so bad it’s good” B-movie where people shoot at aliens or run around weird jungle planets. This is an exploration of humanity’s limits, and an observation of how people cope with loneliness and facing many unknowns in extreme situations.
4.5/5
Ikarie XB-1
87 minutes
2.35:1 AR
In Czech with English subtitles
Co-written/dir. by Jindřich Polák
Cinematography by Jan Kališ
Released 26 July 1963
Czechoslovak production
Blu-ray disc from the Czech National Film Archive
The Seeming and the Meaning 