The Day the Earth Stood Still

In 1951, the original version of The Day the Earth Stood Still served as a sort of message of the cultural climate of anxiety of the time. In the still fresh radioactive afterglow of a WW2 victory, America was both excited and worried about its new found place at the forefront of an increasingly smaller Earth. The film, considered even now a classic of the golden era of 50s science fiction filmmaking, reflected on the fears of atomic power, authoritarian rule and what seemed (and still seems) like a technological advancement gone out of control.

The film also had a sense of religious and spiritual importance to it, specifically around the figure of Klaatu, wise alien visitor who's visage looked remarkably human. Played with cool authority by Michael Rennie, Klaatu's Christ-status is firmly set in the final moments of the film, where he is resurrected, delivers a final if somewhat ambiguous charge to those that have gathered around his spaceship and then accends into the sky with Gort, his robot guardian. Screenwriter Edmund North admitted to the Christ-parellels in the Klaatu character, although he always depicted them as being subtle. In reality, they are a single part of a much larger statement.

In the contemporary remake, starring the much less charismatic but far more alien Keanu Reeves in Klaatu role, similar Biblical allusions abound. The central point of the film is, like its predeccesor, a group of extraterrestial authorities have been made nervous by the actions of humans on earth. However, unlike the first film, the concern is not for the other alien planets near Earth (atomic power in the hands of such a relatively underdeveloped race makes them anxious, even more so than our own anxieties,) but for the Earth itself. The sins of global warming and poor ecological planning and stewardship are used to prove that the people of the planet Earth are unworthy to live, threatening the precious gift they have been given. "If humans survive, Earth dies. If humans die, Earth survives," Klaatu explains coldly to a reasonably concerned Jennifer Connelly, standing in as the prime defense for the fate of humanity.

The religious implications and allusions are fairly apparent in the set-up, reminding most prominently of the twin Genesis stories of Noah's flood and Sodom and Gomorrah. (In a moment of cringe-worthy exposition, the Noah comparison is bluntly explained to the viewer.) An authority (or in this case, collection of authorities) from above decide that the inferior humans are so wicked in their desires that they no longer deserve to live. They must be cleansed away for the planet and all of its other life to thrive. This judgement may seem harsh and cold, but really, it is also an act of love. As Klaatu himself explains, he doesn't come to save or destroy humanity, but rather to save the Earth. As Agent Smith from the Matrix would say, humanity is a cancer that must be exercised from the body of the planet, or it will become choked and wither.

The turn comes in the realization by Klaatu and other members of his unnamed races finally realizing that humans, for all their dangerous, destructive personality flaws, are also capable of great things, as well as capable of change. The final proof for Klaatu is the love Connelly's character has for her dead husband's son. They have no genetic bond, yet she loves him like her own. Through her love, his pain and the bond they create, Klaatu is convinced that these are a people capable of great things. In the final moments of the film, he speaks the most magic of all magic words in sci-fi, "Klaatu barada nikto", releasing humanity in the last moment from ultimate judgment.

The end is left ambiguous, much like its inspiration, leaving the fate of the earth in the hands of the audience. We are given the choice: to succumb to the great dangers of our destructive spirit, or appeal to the power of our ability for change, reform and most importantly love, for our families and our planet. And while there is no rainbow provided by Klaatu as he leaves Earth, he does explain that the direction of where we go now is our decision, with free will and commission to do great or terrible things. It is a heavy and daunting order.