THX-1138

365 Films

Entry #118

THX-1138 (1971)

Directed by George Lucas

First features are a tricky proposition because they evolve to be studied in the past tense as a window into the beginnings of a developed talent.  We look for clues in the primitive cave wall images to parse out thematic obsessions and begin to form some sense of continuity.  Then again, sometimes first time directors just make really good movies that exist independently of the rest of their filmography.  George Lucas’ 1971 feature film debut THX-1138 exists in the gray area between those two poles.  As a stand-alone feature, it is unlike anything else the controversial director has ever done, but in a lot of ways it displays an undiluted vision of techniques and ideas he has continued to explore in subsequent films.  I first came into contact with THX-1138 at the NYU Film library my freshman year of college.  I don’t quite know how I did it, but somehow I was able to avoid spending every waking moment of my life in there consuming everything I could possibly get my hands on.  Looking back, I kind of regret not having done this to be perfectly honest with you.  In any event, I remember watching THX on one of the bobst cubicle tiny television screens from a VHS copy of the 1971 original cut of the film.  In 2004, George Lucas (as he is known to do) went back and inserted a lot of new special effects into THX and re-released it as a brand new director’s cut.  To address the elephant in the room, yes, I think the revisions in THX actually aid the scope and vision of the film and aside from a few gratuitous CGI creatures, the new shots’ artificiality serve as an interesting contrast between it and the sleepwalking mental state of the cast.  As opposed to including a bunch of shots where people are standing around on a green stage pretending to be amazed by the sights they can only imagine, the new cut of THX just cuts out the middle man and the visual splendor passes by unremarked.  It is within that very thematic framework where Lucas presents his overall vision of this futuristic society: a place where every single molecule of human interaction has been categorized, monitored, and devolved into some sort of artificial transaction.  The narrative itself is a portrait of oblique simplicity.  There is no scrawl at the beginning or voice over throughout to inform us as to the particulars of how this society functions.  What little dialogue there is seems to be the bare minimum required for basic character introduction and for getting said characters to move from one scene to the next.  The true meat of the story is encapsulated in the visuals and the sound design (another trademark Lucas would refine over the years to varying degrees of success).  It’s rather remarkable what this film accomplishes in how it combines narrative and experimental filmmaking to create a piece that is uniquely hypnotic.  Walter Murch’s sound design is wonderful in how it combines a truly expansive world of sonic disorientation with some of the most banal technical chatter this side of a local news television control room.  In fact, even the visual design of the film patterns itself on this formula.  For while the production design is pristine and all of the camera angels are designed for maximum visual impact, yet the feel of the thing is practically banal.  Don’t get me wrong, because the film itself is extraordinarily beautiful, displaying the visual ingenuity and editing grace for which Mr. Lucas is all too rarely accredited.  It’s just that there is something horrifyingly dull about the whole thing and perhaps that is Mr. Lucas’ most subversive masterstroke.  This future is frightening and suffocating, how is that every different from now?