When Science and Philosophy Both Go Awry The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957)

When Science and Philosophy Both Go Awry The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957)

I guess what makes Sci-Fi such a popular genre is the way it takes fantastic or exploitative elements and uses them to present a story that is not only entertaining but, at its best, also thought-provoking. It is a genre where the visuals are frequently required to play a significant role, although I get feeling some of the more modern efforts play this up to the detriment of other aspects. Ideally, a successful Sci-Fi film ought to be a blend of interesting and/or well-realized effects and solid, challenging writing. And the emphasis really needs to be placed firmly on the latter, in my opinion. The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957) constitutes a textbook example of what I’m talking about, with direction by Jack Arnold and a script (adapted from his own novel) by Richard Matheson two accomplished genre practitioners as today i talk about this classic movie today.

The Incredible Shrinking Man is really a journey in search of oneself and, in the course of this quest, becomes a journey into the self. It’s all a matter of perception, ultimately; Scott starts out as man who defines himself in relation to the way the world around him perceives him. As he becomes physically smaller, so his sense of worth and vitality even virility when it comes to his marriage are diminished.

There’s an intensifying frustration as he feels himself becoming less significant, transformed into a curiosity at best. But the moment he moves from the world he has known into the now nightmarish frontier that his own basement has become another change begins to take place. Forced to fall back on his own inventiveness and innate sense of survival, he comes to regard himself in a very different light. This is the point where Arnold’s directorial skills and Matheson’s writing make themselves most apparent Scott’s battle to overcome the obstacles that nature has cast into his path restores his faith, and by extension ours too. There’s a sudden realization that the terms by which he had previously defined himself were wrong, or at least too rigid to be true. It all builds to that marvelous revelation that the smaller he becomes, the less it actually matters; in the grand scheme of things he continues to exist and influence whatever little corner of the universe he occupies, therefore his significance is not less just different. Everyday things such as pins and scissors — so mundane to us — are now weapons of war and tools for survival. The science is strong, the prose of pesticides and radiation dangling deftly in the narrative, the fear of the atomic age knocking at the door.

It’s not just a physical journey, but a psychological one. Hope is dangled, both medically and in the meeting of someone of his own kind. But Scott Carey is a victim of cruel fate, a man in the wrong place at the wrong time, thrusting him into a world he can’t control. Can he survive and adapt? If so, he may be opened up to some sort of revelation, where metaphysical existentialism can come crawling through the gloom to reveal itself. Scott Carey’s world is brilliantly realized by director Jack Arnold and his team, with over-sized props, nifty special effects and a miniature POV filming style that lets us in on the terror and angst of a man forced to evaluate his place in the universe. Grant Williams is excellent, begging the question as to why his career didn’t reach better heights. The mental transformation of Scott Carey is smartly layered by the actor, and his oral narration pulses with emotion and reasoning. All told it’s a great production, a great film. Don’t be fooled into thinking it’s a piece of sci-fi schlock. It deserves better respect than that as its truly a scfi classic that truly shines upon the screen.