Over the past few months, I’ve been revisiting a range of classic science fiction films, particularly those produced in the 1950s. There’s something so special about these films, with their do-it-yourself approach to the most ambitious stories resulting in the kind of chaotic art that is both entertaining and utterly inspiring. It has all led to this particular moment (although it won’t be ending here, as I’ve developed a strong and unflinching fondness for the genre to the point where I’m motivated to dig as deep into the archives as I can), where we can finally discuss the film that can, without any hesitation, be called the finest science fiction film of its era, the absolutely staggering The Day the Earth Stood Still. As a jack-of-all-trades who could put together an impressive film regardless of the genre in which he is working, it only makes sense that Robert Wise, who is not someone normally associated mainly with science fiction, would helm this film. His style was adaptable, and his vision clear enough to warrant him mastering absolutely any kind of film – and in the process of embracing this ambitious premise, which was in turn inspired by the short story “Farewell to the Master” written by Harry Bates, Wise and a close-knit group of like-minded artists crafted a film that would covertly change the way we see the future. The Day the Earth Stood Still is quite simply one of the greatest films ever made, a daring and provocative work of speculative fiction that goes where very few films at the time were willing to venture, and gradually challenges the way we perceive the world around us, all through the lens of an audacious journey into our collective culture.

An influential film isn’t only one that stands as the best of its genre, but also inspires nearly every work that has followed it – and had it not been for The Day the Earth Stood Still, most of the science fiction films we have enjoyed over the past half-century would just not exist. Wise was a master of his craft, and the fact that he wasn’t a director necessarily known for working in the genre meant that his perspective was always going to be more fresh and interesting than a seasoned veteran of science fiction. Obviously, this film was produced as a result of creative collaboration, and in working with a wide range of other talented individuals with their own perspective on this story, Wise was able to compose an achingly beautiful film that functions as both a thrilling science fiction thriller, and a deeply moving humanitarian drama. Countless images and pieces of dialogue from this film have infiltrated the artistic culture, whether it be the terrifying but captivating image of the “spaceman” emerging from his spacecraft, accompanied by his robot assistant (with Gort now being one of the most recognizable figures in the history of science fiction), or the phrase “Klaatu barada nikto”, which has been readily embraced by the science fiction community as words of comfort. From a purely artistic standpoint, it’s not difficult to see exactly why The Day the Earth Stood Still was such an enormous triumph upon its original release, and how it has maintained the reputation as being one of the most important entries into the science fiction genre (which has never suffered a shortage of ambitious projects, even when many ambitious directors were afforded only the most paltry resources to realize their audacious visions) – but it’s the constant feeling that there is something deeper to this film, a sense of complexity that transcends the cheap thrills of more conventional speculative fiction, that makes this such a captivating project.

Strangely, The Day the Earth Stood Still often appears on lists of artistic works centred around alien invasion, which may be technically true in terms of it focusing on extraterrestrials making their way to earth – but the film is neither about invasion (the entire concept of aliens “coming in peace” can be traced back to Klaatu and his benevolent voyage to Planet Earth), nor it is really about aliens when we look at the story. Certainly, the central character is a being from another planet – but The Day the Earth Stood Still is really a film about humanity, a cautionary tale produced at a time when our world was on the brink of destruction, having just experienced two major wars in the span of fewer than three decades, as well as a number of other threats to our existence, some of them not quite as prominent as others. The human condition is a strange concept – we all understand the fundamental process of being alive, but the actual meaning of existence (if there even is one) has eluded nearly everyone, with the entire field of philosophy being formed to answer these burning questions, which many millennia of deep rumination still have failed to answer. This seemed to be the launching point for both the original text on which the film was based, and the subsequent cinematic adaptation that carries an immense amount of weight in how it handles some very intimidating themes. There’s a sense of intrigue that persists throughout this film, Wise constantly making sure that the viewer is fully immersed in this world, but keeping us at enough of a distance to allow us to see beyond the hysteria that envelopes the film (part of this is done through positioning the character of Bobby as an audience surrogate – he is old enough to be aware of his surroundings, but still possesses the childlike naivete to not fully understand the scope of the danger presented to him), leading to a series of powerful and poignant conversations.

Yet, how it is it that a work of science fiction manages to be one of the most profound deconstructions of our entire existence? Perhaps it can be the fact that the story is filtered through the perspective of a neutral outsider, someone completely detached from the petty squabbles that dominate our world and sow division amongst populations, or perhaps the film just has such a firm grasp on the intricacies of social and cultural standards, it didn’t take too much to manipulate them into the form of this beautiful but alarming elegy to a world under threat of annihilation as a result of its own actions. There’s a very narrow boundary between provoking thought and needlessly preaching – but considering how the message at the heart of The Day the Earth Stood Still still resonates seventy years later (even inspiring a remake just over a decade ago), and feels oddly prophetic even by contemporary standards, we have to wonder whether audiences had been paying attention all along. It’s often difficult to request audiences view these stories through a more realistic lens, since the entire purpose of the science fiction genre is for mindless escapism that doesn’t require too much thought, at least not towards very sobering matters. Yet, sometimes the best way to convey these messages is through the most populist format, whereby audiences may go into a film expecting something that is purely entertaining, only to be confronted with some serious matters that linger with us long after the film has ended. Part of the success in The Day the Earth Stood Still comes in the methods Wise takes to balance the two, leading to an absolutely spellbinding, and always deeply reliable, work of meaningful science fiction.

The reasons for The Day the Earth Stood Still being considered one of the finest science fiction films ever made (and one of the best films of the 1950s in general) are well-documented, not only in the resounding praise it has received by critics and devotees over the last seventy years since its release, but also through the impact it has had on the genre overall. Like many defining works of genre-fiction, every film produced under the umbrella of science fiction can be traced back to this film in some way, its influence being very clear, and proving how Wise and his cohorts truly struck a raw nerve with this incredible film. The Day the Earth Stood Still represents all the positive aspects that the genre has to offer – it isn’t particularly long (at 92 minutes, it’s very brief considering how it aims to leap directly into the heart of the human condition), is made with the kind of ambitious dedication that has always defined science fiction, including practical effects that help immerse the audience in this world, and most importantly, a strong story that may take some bold leaps of logic, but never feel implausible, genuinely convincing us of the message at the heart of the film. This is a brilliant work, a thought-provoking science fiction thriller that stirs discussion and implants vital ideas – and through the midst of its very clear socio-cultural intentions, it still manages to be vibrant and entertaining, never lacking the spark of genius that originally drew audiences to fall in love with these stories in the first place.