
By Lara Harmankaya
October 31, 2023
“Freder: Your magnificent city, Father - and you the brain of this city - and all of us in the city's light...And where are the people, Father, whose hands built your city--?
Joh Fredersen: Where they belong...
Freder: In the depths...? What if one day, those in the depths rise up against you?”
Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, essentially, is a tale of two cities – the “City of the Workers'' and the “Club of the Sons.” One is an underground industrialized prison, the other a capitalist utopia. They form Metropolis, characterized by its futuristic skyline, Art Deco skyscrapers, elevated highways and jam-packed roads. Such imagery is not unfamiliar to modern audiences, given its resemblance to contemporary megacities. Considered the “first great science-fiction film” by critic Roger Ebert, Metropolis is an astonishing accomplishment of special effects and German Expressionism. Its stylistic influence on the genre of science fiction is far-reaching; its deeply divided megapolis, mad scientist, human-like robot and dystopian setting have all developed into idiosyncratic tropes of science fiction that have reappeared countless times in works such as The Blade Runner, the Hunger Games, Star Wars and many more. Even its soundtrack reminds the audience of the iconic melodies orchestrated by John Williams for Star Wars. At the same time, it also follows a literary tradition established by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and H. G. Wells – that of a moral message entrenched in science fiction. This is precisely what makes this film relevant in my eyes, despite the almost 100 years since its first release. Its scathing social and political commentary, using the dichotomies of the great metropolis, reveals the inherent purpose of the science fiction genre in a broader context. Science fiction, as I will come to argue, contemplates and critiques the social issues that are prevalent at a specific point in history. It may construct a future rampant with technological advancements and societies foreign to our own, but at its core, it invariably revolves around humanity.
The story of Metropolis follows Freder, the privileged son of the master of Metropolis, as he discovers the dark reality that goes on deep within the industrial heart of Metropolis. He has a revelation when he realizes that masses of men, under his father's instructions, toil away for hours on end and become dehumanized cogs in the machine of industrial capitalism. In contrast to them, his character is part of a world of hedonistic pleasure, emotional excesses and glittery nightlife. This clash of status, which the film emphasizes by dressing Frederer in white in contrast to the laborers’s black uniform, is reinforced by the city itself as a physical manifestation of the chasmic separation between the two classes. However, despite its overtly Marxian themes of class conflict, Metropolis does not ultimately promote a revolution of the working class. Instead, it fosters mediation; as the film progresses, Frederer commits to the working classcause and decides to take on the role of the ‘Mediator’ to bring peace to the city. One of the most memorable quotes of the movie embodies this idea, “There can be no understanding between the hand and the head unless the heart acts as mediator.” This expresses a Durkhemian view of society as an organism that can only function effectively if there is co-dependence and solidarity within the branches, a concept a Sciences Po student is all too familiar with. Therefore, by engaging in and allegorically incorporating elements of sociological discourse into their narratives, this showcases that films can encourage their audiences to relate the overarching themes to politics and to think reflexively about society and its struggles.
When conceptually creating Metropolis, Lang was inspired by New York City, its role as a global center of capitalism then and now, as well as its Art Deco architecture. Yet, the similarities between Metropolis and New York City cannot simply be reduced to those of infrastructure. In our current world, cities are the most vivid representations of inequality. With slum areas and skyscrapers often located right next to each other, they continue to be home to a variety of people from different social classes and groups. They not only tend to be the most unequal places in a nation, but they can also be synecdoches of the larger inequalities within a macro society. According to an International Monetary Fund study, inequalities within cities are “expected to worsen” over the years. Similarly, the United Nations predicts that urbanization will increase to 68 percent by 2060. The dichotomous nature of Metropolis and the everlasting relevance of its message are thereby highly consequential when thinking about social problems posed within 21st-century cities across the world. Thus, although Metropolis’s vision of social structure is too binary and simplistic to accurately represent the complex and multifaceted inequalities that permeate our social order now, it is still a valuable model of elements of Marxist urban theory. Considering we are now living in a world where the disparities between the richest and the poorest are the greatest they have ever been, Metropolis’s scathing criticism of the social order and unrestrained capitalism is more relevant than ever.
Analyzing Metropolis reveals a greater trend in the realm of science fiction, which is the trend of political critique. Whether it be Miyazaki’s Princess Mononoke, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Akira, or Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, works of science fiction that posit a moral message are almost always shaped by contemporary events with socioeconomic implications. They are social commentaries that scrutinize certain ethical dilemmas. Fahrenheit 451, for instance, is concerned with the uncontrolled advent of technology and its intellectually-numbifying effect, whereas Neon Genesis Evangelion and Akira both allude to the post-Hiroshima and Nagasaki nuclear trauma embedded in the Japanese collective consciousness. This is what film critic Annette Kuhn refers to as the “cultural instrumentality” of science fiction, which she describes as the way in which “sci-fi movies relate to the social order through the mediation of ideologies'' and explore “society’s representations of itself in and for itself.” In this sense, it can be argued that science fiction holds a vital role of social analysis that renders it a fundamental part of what she calls the “collective psyche of the era”. Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Star Trek, neatly summarizes the purpose of science fiction with his own statement, "science fiction is a way of thinking, a way of logic that bypasses a lot of nonsense. It allows people to look directly at important subjects."
In making a case for science fiction’s societal relevance, one might point out its relationship with social change and technological innovation. Creating fiction about science could, in fact, induce developments in the sphere of technology. Many developments in the fields of space travel, communication and transportation are said to have been motivated by science fiction. Notably, Martin Cooper – known for inventing the cell phone – credited Star Trek’s ‘communicator’ as its inspiration. This is an indication of science fiction’s endless ability to imagine. For activist Walidah Imarisha, it is a tool with which we can picture an idealized future, and the necessity of employing it lies in the fact that “we can’t build what we can’t imagine.” Science fiction can, therefore, be a source of hope for the future and the progress of humanity.
Most importantly, science fiction is a reaction and a warning. By depicting a dystopian world of socially-segregated mega-cities, as in the case of Metropolis, or totalitarian states with groupthink and no individuality, as illustrated in Orwell’s 1984, science fiction often presents a future we wish to avoid. It even offers us some moral solutions, like revolution or reconciliation. Nowadays, it partakes in questioning the ethics of artificial intelligence and navigating the rapid advancements that mark our world. Science fiction’s ability to transcend popular culture and place itself in the center of moral discourse and social analysis is thus ubiquitous.
Science fiction must not be fantastical and completely detached from human society. Rather, it can be deeply interwebbed in the major philosophical, sociological and economic debates. It can reflect social trends that are evolving and developing around us, while simultaneously expanding imagination and limits to contemplate what can be. It is our connection to ‘future’, hence why we must continue to heed its warnings about the calamities it may bring.
