Fear is a fascinating topic, and one that has intrigued everyone from existential philosophers to eccentric artists for centuries, with the idea of something intangible or unlikely being able to have such a firm grasp on one’s psychological state. It is one of the only emotions that can be produced entirely organically by our psyche and can manifest without even a shred of evidence to support these feelings. Fears take many different forms, but it is a seemingly universal phenomenon to fear the unknown or otherworldly encroaching on our domestic and personal lives, the very belief that something is lurking in the shadows, ready to disrupt everything that we consider sacred and unimpeachable. There’s something exceptionally terrifying about the familiar but uncanny, which is what makes Jack Finney’s novel, The Body Snatchers, so captivating and timeless, as well as the various cinematic adaptations that have appeared over the years since the book was first published in 1955, in which we see a race of aliens taking over Earth, which they do through occupying the bodies of unsuspecting human hosts. The present discussion centres around the 1978 version of this story, in which director Philip Kaufman, along with screenwriter W.D. Richter (who was behind some very memorable science fiction films of the era) adapt both the novel and the previous film version, presenting us with Invasion of the Body Snatchers, a film that has taken a life of its own, becoming something of a minor sensation in terms of the story being told, as well as the form that it takes. Kaufman’s ingenuity in adapting quite a challenging story into one of the defining genre films of the 1970s can never be underestimated, and the bespoke qualities that he brings to the production immediately draw our attention. A solid, well-crafted science fiction film that does exactly what we’d expect, in addition to throwing in a few more surprising elements that keep us invested, Invasion of the Body Snatchers has never been more relevant, both artistically and in terms of its underlying conceptual structure.

Despite a strong body of work, Kaufman is inexplicably missing from a lot of discussions around great directors working under the New Hollywood movement, mainly because he approached his films as more of a journeyman, directing in a wide range of genres rather than honing a very specific artistic voice, or at least not one that is immediately recognizable. However, Invasion of the Body Snatchers is often considered his greatest film, or at least the one that represents the very best that he had to offer as a filmmaker. The film was initiated as a remake of Don Siegel’s brilliant 1956 adaptation, but it mercifully manages to avoid being compared (neither positively nor negatively) to the previous foray into this material. The original film version was already notable for how it blended genres, having been crafted in the style of film noir, which was borderline revolutionary in an era where genre films had to fit neatly into a specific category or risk being dismissed as too overly experimental to make it to mainstream audiences. Kaufman builds on these ideas with this adaptation – it employs a gritty, neo-noir aesthetic that anchors the film within a recognizable version of reality, which is often the foundation of some of the most unsettling works of science fiction since anything that can present an apocalyptic vision of our species familiarly is bound to stir more of a reaction than the more offbeat works. There are also more liberties taken in terms of crafting this film as a body horror – there are countless moments of grotesque imagery that are bound to incite nothing but repulsion and fear in the viewer. Stylistically, Invasion of the Body Snatchers is an immense achievement – it is uncomfortable, terrifying and frankly macabre, and Kaufman makes sure the tone (which is a bizarre blend of unhinged horror and darkly comical satire) matches the unorthodox nature of the story, making this a singular work that stands on its own, while still being reverential to the existing films in the various genres in which it dabbles.

Many don’t quite understand how Invasion of the Body Snatchers is secretly one of the most blatant political satires of the 1970s, primarily because we usually stop examining its intricate details when we reach the more unconventional elements that usually have it listed as one of the greatest science fiction and horror films of all time, but very rarely discuss it in the context of being a political film at the same time. This is where Kaufman’s brilliance comes into play, because he understands that a simple remake is not good enough, and in both style and substance, he crafts a bold film that leaps in a number of different directions, while still maintaining a firm, complex grasp on the material and what it intends to convey. When the original novel was written, some readers started to notice that Finney had secretly cobbled together a scathing indictment on the United States government during the era of McCarthyism, with the idea of ordinary citizens having their bodies entirely taken over by malicious foreign entities that masquerade in their skin was a very clear reference to the Red Scare and how the idea of Communism spreading like an incurable, parasitic disease. The political landscape in the 1970s was obviously quite different, but the same sensibility existed, particularly in an era where the public consciousness was mainly driven by memories of events such as Watergate and the Vietnam War, which shaped a lot of how ordinary Americans perceived their government and developed an inherent mistrust in the extent to which they cared for their constituents’ interests. Invasion of the Body Snatchers is crafted as a complex thriller, drawing a lot of inspiration from the kind of gritty paranoia thrillers and conspiracy dramas that were so prominent at the time. It’s the fact that Kaufman designs this film to play along the exact same lines as works such as All the President’s Men and The Conversation (both defining works of this sub-genre), rather than as a primarily science fiction or horror-based approach, that immediately makes this much more interesting than we initially may have anticipated.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers is a film about our planet gradually being overtaken by an alien species, that creates clones that are devoid of any humanity. It may not seem like it from a cursory glance, but this film is very much designed as a character piece, particularly in how it defines the five main characters who take up the central roles in the story. Donald Sutherland (who spends most of the film in a trenchcoat, which is always a terrific sign of a film’s quality) leads the film as the cynical but valiant Matthew Bennell, a pernickety health department inspector who becomes the hero of the story, using his sceptical nature and refusal to buckle to conventions to battle against these malicious forces that gradually begin to encroach on society. In a decade where he was almost consistently doing brilliant work, Invasion of the Body Snatchers contains one of Sutherland’s greatest performances, mostly because it is one in which he runs the gamut of emotions, oscillating between playing to the rafters and being much more subtle, depending on what the surrounding scene required from him as an actor. The rest of the cast follows a very similar approach – Brooke Adams (who was being positioned as a major star at the time based on the work she was given, something that didn’t quite pan out as much as they probably expected) is a serviceable co-lead, having the unenviable position of playing the less interesting but still very important love interest and the most doomed character of them all, whereas Jeff Goldblum and Veronica Cartwright, in some of their earliest performances, add a lot of nuance to the film with their work as a married couple that find themselves thrown into the heart of this sinister series of events. Invasion of the Body Snatchers is also notable for containing a rare villainous performance from Leonard Nimoy, playing the calm and dignified antagonist (or at least the earthly representation of the true villains, who are the unseen alien species) and being suitably terrifying every moment he is on screen. This film contains some terrific performances that are far deeper and more nuanced than we would be inclined to expect, which immediately draws our attention and helps supplement some of its more unconventional ideas.

Considering it is a dense, complex science fiction film about malicious, parasitic extraterrestrials who subsume the entirety of the human race and force them into doing their bidding, it’s a bizarre sentiment to call Invasion of the Body Snatchers a timely or resonant film since there isn’t anything on the surface that makes it particularly realistic. Yet, nearly half a century later, it still resonates with a peculiar intensity that proves that it has struck a chord across different generations and demographics, which is quite rare for a film primarily intent on combining science fiction and horror. Whether we take an approach that looks at this film as a political statement, or purely as an examination of the psychological roots of fear (which is the main emotional anchor of the film – everything that occurs throughout the story, whether it relates to unhinged terror or the paranoia that comes with the overarching conspiracy – can be traced back to this very simple emotion), there is a lot of valuable content spread throughout Invasion of the Body Snatchers, a film that is equally impressive as both a narrative and creative achievement. Having been repurposed as a film remembered more for certain elements than as a holistic production, it was thoroughly surprising to see just how well everything works together, and in an era where science fiction and horror were undergoing a significant shift in both style and structure, this stands as one of the defining works that has continued to terrify and provoke thought in equal measure, a rare but brilliant turn of events for a well-crafted, complex work that doesn’t adhere to the standards of any discernible genre, and instead goes in search of something much deeper and perhaps even more horrifying.