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by Matt Keppel
Have you ever wondered why Hollywood moviemakers feel the need to constantly make their uneducated guesses on how technology fits, has fit, and, most interestingly, will fit into human existence? The writers' and directors' ideas are usually too eager-beaver to coincide with realism, but hey, it's the movies. The only ones who seem to be complaining are-of course-the technophiles.
One of the most successful attempts of matching technology with its appropriate time frame is 1982's dystopic future classic Blade Runner. Harrison Ford portrays a hardened private detective assigned to hunt down and destroy a small band of "replicants" (androids) in early 21st century Los Angeles. The technology present in the rainy, dark, nightmare world of the film seems potentially realistic: videophones, lighted umbrellas, and robots created to resemble humans so closely (albeit with a pre-assigned life-span) that they're rarely detectable. Though stacked with computer mumbo-jumbo, all the talk and philosophizing of "man vs. machine" adds to the idea that Blade Runner's technological advances could be humanity's undoing.
On a more optimistic, lighthearted note, "man vs. machine" plays itself out to comic effect with the frothy romantic comedy Electric Dreams (1984). This time around, the romance is not boy-meets-android (a la Blade Runner's love story) but boy-meets-computer-meets-girl-meets-boy. Get it? The bizarre love triangle starts realistically enough: a man buys a home computer system to control his household appliances, home security, and personal needs. Realism, though, is tossed out a 50-story window when the computer gets a mind and a voice (in 1984?) of its own. Too much melodramatic synthesizer on the soundtrack and early '80s video game effects wind up crushing any possible wit or sarcasm in Electric Dreams.
Jane Fonda doesn't seem to shy away from techno-clunkers herself. The victim of a police wiretap in Klute (1971), Fonda finally receives the evidence from Detective Klute, played by Donald Sutherland. Instead of the microcassette we might see today, we witness the awkward exchange of huge reel-to-reel tapes. Must be the moon-landing era's version of high-tech secrecy. And that's small potatoes compared to the anachronistic antics of Fonda as a 41st(!) century space adventurer in Barbarella (1968). Flying in a shag-fur-lined capsule, clad in a plastic bikini, Fonda's attire and environment seem a tad far-fetched given our knowledge of the conditions astronauts face.
When it comes to home computers, in the mid-'80s the teens of America seemed to have ultimate control over world domination (WarGames -- 1983) as well as human biological construction (Weird Science -- 1985). Who would have guessed these feats could be accomplished with a Commodore 64? The chintzy, one-tone-green characters on Matthew Broderick's monitor in WarGames undermine the possibility of triggering nuclear missile silos. Go figure. The makers of Weird Science give Anthony Michael Hall even more feeble tools to achieve his goal: making a girl. According to this movie, it only takes some early Apple IIE equipment, a color monitor, and some "photo scanner" machine that looks more like a ballot box to make a flesh-and-blood woman in the form of Kelly "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful and a horrible actress" LeBrock.
Speaking of Anthony Michael Hall, did you catch the antiquated technology in another mid-'80s teen classic, Sixteen Candles (1984)? Check out the embarrassingly primitive "car phone" in a scene with Hall driving around town with prom queen Caroline. She drunkenly answers the ringing phone, picking up a full-size receiver with a thick, tangling cord. So much for the idea of the rich owning the pinnacles of the high-tech world, at least by comparison with 1996 technology.
That brings us to more modern fare, such as the computer disks and cell phones of Hal Hartley's Amateur (1995, above). More in tune with current developments in personal technology, this film probably won't embarrass itself when viewed in another decade or two. It seems very representative of its time and even goofs on itself. Recurring jokes, on the issue of calling hard disks "floppy disks" and the upgrading of cell phones, work because they pin-point present technology.
Amateur succeeds at including technology throughout its story line without the ridiculous games of unrealistic computer-ridden capers like Hackers and The Net. Subtlety and technology rarely appear in the same movie. Is the "gee-whiz" wonder of technology's possibilities to blame, or is it people's eagerness to bowl themselves over with their never-ending mastery over machines? Is it the movies' fault?
