To get back on track after the break, I thought we’d look at the next film included in the Karel Zeman set from Criterion. After watching it, I have to say: this is where Zeman really came into his own. Journey to the Beginning of Time wasn’t a bad starting point and did show promise for Zeman’s mixed-media approach, but Invention for destruction is definitely where he came into his own. Zeman uses most every technique at his disposal to create an amazing and highly stylized Jules-Verne-inspired world, with a classic story of science with good intentions being used for evil. I very much enjoyed it for what it was, but before we get into my thoughts, I’ll give you an idea of the plot. This will probably be rather short, since the film is pretty straight-forward, and I don’t want to give too much away.
The story takes place in a time of great transportation advancement, with boats, rail-cars, and airships of many shapes and sizes. We follow Simon, the assistant to Professor Roch, a scientist who has invented a machine that can create a new form of energy in mass amounts. The Professor thinks that this new invention could revolutionize energy as we know it, but sadly, it seems that someone has other plans for it. That someone being the evil Count Artigas, who sends out his crew of pirates, led by Captain Spade, to kidnap the Professor and Simon, taking the invention plans along the way. The Count pretends to be a benefactor of sorts to the Professor, wanting to take him to a secluded location where he can fully realize his invention. Simon suspects otherwise, especially after being locked up down below the ship they’re sailing on, and seeing the submarine attached to the ship deliberately knock a hole in a nearby galleon. The Count plays this off to the Professor as the galleon crashing, when really, he intends to send out a deep-sea crew to loot the galleon for treasure. However, they reluctantly have to bring one survivor on board when she is found floating in the sea. When they all get to the volcanic island the Count is stationed at, it becomes clear to Simon that the Count wishes to use the device for more “destructive” means, and must now find a way to either stop or escape the island with the help of Jana, the women they rescued. Will the Professors invention for peace become an invention for destruction? Well, you’ll just have to watch the movie to find out.
As I was saying before, Zeman really pulled out all the stops to create his vision. Throughout the course of the film, you can see real actors mixed with cut-out animation, armature animation, drawn/painted backgrounds and sets, various composite shots, and even stock footage (or footage that was shot outside, anyway). Often times, multiple styles will be used to represent one thing in different situations. For example, during certain wide shots of people on ships and such, the people are rendered as paper cut-outs, or even photographic cutouts, similar to the kind you’d see later in various 80s music videos. However, when the camera comes in for a closer shot, the people are portrayed by live actors. This is also true of sequences like the underwater deep-diver segment, when Count Artigas’s crew goes to loot the sunken ship. Most of the wider shots of the divers walking, collecting treasure, and even riding these underwater-bicycle devices use armature figures for the divers, while cutting to regular actors when they need to focus on a particular event. This shows a level of ingenuity and willingness in Zeman to use more than one or two techniques to create a scene, as well as a clear desire on his part to even go that direction at all. While one could argue that film-making around this time, and even nowadays, was and is inherently composed of multiple techniques, the level to which Zeman mixed his media is very unique to him, especially considering that he went out of his way to make the film look like an illustration come to life. Many of the sets in the film have a deliberately flat, almost stage-like appearance, as if they exist in on a 2D plane that’s developed 3D depth around them. The gears of the submarine appear as three-dimensional objects with graphite drawing lines all over them, almost creating a real-world cel-shading effect years before cel-shading. He even shot the film in grayscale and added black lines across the screen to emulate the look of an old print. In many ways, the film almost comes across as the next evolution of the early film visionaries from the silent and early sound era, especially George Méliès. For those unfamiliar, Méliès was a French filmmaker who worked back in the late 1890’s to the early 1910’s and was known for his grand adventure films that he would bring to life using drawn/painted backgrounds, flat and stage-like sets, and various other tricks. You might be familiar with his film A Trip to the Moon, as it has become culturally iconic over the years. Zeman seems to be coming from a very similar sort of artistic vision, but certainly updated for the era in which he was making films. Méliès films often came across as closer to plays with film-making tricks, but Zeman’s work is much grander and more fully realized as a flat but cinematic world. It’s the sort of thing that’s best appreciated by those who either enjoy classic adventure stories, have a taste for unconventional presentation, appreciate film-making craftsmanship, or all of the above. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t generally recommend it, as I think the story’s message is a very classic one that was both relevant at the time and still relevant, sadly, to this day. This film was made during the “atomic age,” wherein there were huge developments in nuclear technology, as well as concerns being raised over the potential danger and destruction such ventures could cause. Add to this the fact that the Cold War was well underway, and it makes sense why such a story would be told back then. However, considering that we’re still under the threat of potential nuclear destruction (though, obviously, the context has changed) and that major science developments almost always come with potential for benefit or harm, I think that a story like this is forever relevant. If there’s one aspect to the presentation that I found off, it might be the stock footage. It’s clear to the eye that the stock footage’s image quality is not the same as everything else, so when they try to composite the two together (such as when you have a building by the sea and the ocean waves are live footage), it’s easy to tell that they’re not a part of the same composition. Aside from that, though, I think the film comes together very well. I could imagine it becoming a wealth of wonder and inspiration for many a future filmmaker (actually, I don’t have to imagine, as directors such as Terry Gilliam, Wes Anderson, Tim Burton, and our old friend Jan Svankmajer have all sung the praises of Zeman).
Personally, I enjoyed the film quite a bit. I’ve always had a love of mixed media film-making, and Zeman is a wonderful example of such a feat being pulled off expertly. I’m definitely looking forward to watching the last film in the collection, his Baron Munchausen film, as the bits I’ve seen of it look to be even better than this film. I’ll probably wait a bit to cover that one, I don’t want to oversaturate myself or anything. As for Invention for Destruction itself, it’s a wonderful film and an amazing achievement in cinematic craftsmanship. I don’t think there’s another one like it, or at least not one that captures specifically what it does. I certainly recommend it to anyone whose interest has been peaked by this review. It’s a beautiful and artistic rendering of a time-honored story about how an invention for peace can so easily become an Invention for Destruction.