Nigel Kneale's THE QUATERMASS EXPERIMENT Revisited

From 1959. Click for a better jpeg.

For the first time since at least 1980, I went back to revisit THE QUATERMASS EXPERIMENT, Nigel Kneale's teleplay published as a book by Penguin, then republished by Arrow.

Beyond, "It's brilliant," I have not much to say, but a few stray thoughts might be worth consideration.

I read this long before I saw the Hammer film, which struck me as less an adaptation than a desecration. The film tossed away the most disturbing and conceptually interesting of Kneale's ideas, and turned his biological threat against all forms of life on Earth into a typically-tentacled space blob. It also rejected Kneale's ultimate solution to the teleplay's problem, but more on that later.

The film in itself might not be at fault in this. To function at his best, Kneale required time and room to develop his ideas. In shorter forms (like the stories of TOMATO CAIN, or the teleplays of BEASTS), or even in film adaptations written by Kneale himself (especially in FIVE MILLION YEARS TO EARTH), Kneale's best qualities vanished, but in THE YEAR OF THE SEX OLYMPICS, THE ROAD, and the longer Quatermass teleplays, his ideas and their implications were given space to grow, with a result of greater scope and greater tension.

Creature model built by Nigel Kneale and Judith Kerr. Click for a better jpeg.

For all that I admire Kneale's development of his ideas, the ending, here, has never quite convinced me. Yes, it is original and unexpected (even if it has been foreshadowed earlier in the play), but is it believable? Even after the passage of decades, I have no firm opinion. It is what it is.

In his introduction to this book, Kneale writes, "It has been pointed out that I don't really write science-fiction at all, but just use the forms of it. I suppose that's true." But is it true?

One thing is clear: Kneale has done his research. His multi-stage rocket and its re-entry process, his correct use of terms like braking ellipse, apogee, centrifugal force, show that he understands the language and basic principles of rocketry. He also understands how to go beyond ideas into their implications, which seems to me a fundamental component of any good science fiction, in print or on film. So yes, Kneale was indeed writing science fiction.

Excellent science fiction. I would call THE QUATERMASS EXPERIMENT the best alien invasion story since Wells, but Kneale would surpass EXPERIMENT six years later, with QUATERMASS AND THE PIT. That one is magnificent.

A Principled Sadist -- Puss In Boots: The Last Wish

WARNING: These comments contain SPOILERS.

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Critics and viewers alike have praised PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH, and at least from comments online, the most notable character in the film has turned out to be the enigmatic Wolf. I can see good reasons for this.

The Wolf lacks a complex personality; much of his impact, instead, owes to the surprise of his unsettling presence in a film for children. His brutality and scorn bring a genuine chill to the narrative, but for all of the pleasure he takes in cruelty, he operates from clear motives; he follows a harsh yet moral code of honour, despite a personal resentment that, he admits, drove him to bend the rules -- "Sh! Don't tell!" This paradox of sadism held in check by principle becomes the key to his actions.

Another part of his fascination is the role he plays. The film sets him up as the enemy who cannot be defeated, and to its credit, solves the problem he poses without any last-minute twists or turns, which makes his final confrontation all the more haunting.

All of this can be recognized with one viewing of the film, but watching it again, I noticed two elements that took me by surprise.

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Consider how much the Wolf has in common with Perrito:

Both make a first appearance in disguise, and are mistaken for something else. Perrito seems to be a cat; the Wolf appears to be a bounty hunter.

Both become unwelcome pursuers. Puss In Boots eventually begins to like Perrito, and eventually comes to respect the Wolf.

Both give back to Puss In Boots the sword that he has left behind, even if Perrito only gives back a stick sword.

Both wear clothes associated with death. The Wolf wears a cloak and hood; Perrito wears the sock in which he was meant to be drowned.

Both emphasize the need to treasure life as a gift.

"I find the very idea of nine lives absurd," says the Wolf, "and you didn't value any of them."

Perrito, for his part, says, "I've only ever had one life, but sharing it with you and Kitty has made it pretty special. Maybe one life is enough?"

Notice, too, that of all the main characters, neither Perrito nor the Wolf has any interest in the wish. This lack of need gives Perrito an easy trail through the dark forest, and allows the Wolf to come and go without interventions from the map.

A final point of comparison: as Perrito had wanted, but very much against the Wolf's intentions, both become therapy dogs. Despite his frustrated rage -- "Why the Devil did I play with my food?" -- the Wolf understands, in the end, that his pursuit has taught a lesson about death and life, and that he cannot justify his personal vendetta. "I came here for an arrogant little legend who thought he was immortal... but I don't see him any more. Live your life, Puss In Boots. Live it well."

These connections between Perrito and the Wolf are so strong that the two could almost be said to reflect each other. Given the obviously thoughtful craftsmanship of the film, nothing would surprise me if the writers had intended such parallels right from the start. They knew what they were doing.

The writers also made clear just how much the Wolf differs from the other main characters. Like him, these characters learn to see their flaws and mistakes. And so, Goldi recognizes that her failure to appreciate the family right in front of her has hurt this family. Kitty realizes that her quest for someone she can trust has been crippled by her own lack of trust. Puss in Boots finally understands that his arrogant lust for glory has led to reckless lives and lost loves. All of these revelations, prompted by outside clues, have to be discovered internally. (Even if Puss in Boots must be jolted awake by the boorish words of his previous jerk selves, he still comes to this recognition by himself.)

But unlike the others, who return to the people they love with a new generosity and a new commitment, both of which are understood and acknowleged by their loved ones, the Wolf never apologizes. When Puss in Boots affirms, with a quiet respect that has grown beyond his previous arrogant dismissals, that he and the Wolf will indeed meet again, the Wolf says nothing; he walks away.

In a film where the characters are so eloquently expressive in their cartoon fashion, the final expression of the Wolf is hard to read. His ferocity, his gleeful sadism, his predatory stare: all are gone, but what remains?

It might almost be regret. It might even be shame.

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