Film Review

"Things to Come."

Anyone who goes along to see "Things to Come," expecting to be entertained with brilliant phantasies of a future utopia, will be disappointed. it is a picutre which demands serious thought. it i a picture in which ideas rather than material things are important—a piece of excellent propaganda upon which this modern world would do well to meditate very seriously. its text is "war paralyses all progress, scientific, social and political."

War, undeclared, descends on Everytown on that most happy domestic occasion, Christmas Eve, when peace and tranquility mingle with universal goodwill. Its weary futility exhausts and destroys centuries of civilisation, leaving in its wake a wasted countryside, a degenerate people and a strange, malignant plague, "The Wandering Sickness." Stong, coarse men are supreme. We find ourselves reverted to the absolute barbarity of petty chieftains. A few useless aeroplanes and a horse-drawn Rolls-Royce remind us of past achievement. Science is unwanted except in so far as it may further the selfish ambitions of an unimaginative warlord.

To this chaos comes civilisation, "Wings over the World," who, without the retrograde effect of war had evolved and were enforcing their plan for the rehabilitation of mankind with their "Peace Gas," and giant flyingwings. Peace and progress come to the world once more. Progress becomes the ideal of the intellectuals. but human nature has not changed and there is an example of mob hysteria when an abortive attempt is made to prevent the shooting of explorers to the moon.

The photography is excellent, the settings are well conceived, but lack vitality. It is still evident that outdoor scenes photographed indoors still present difficulties to British technicians. The casting was flawless and the acting of a consistently high standard. Raymond massey, the Chauvelin of the Scarlet Pimpernel, confirms our opinion of him as a first-class actor. Ralph Richardson as The Boss played a difficult role of bombast and self-assertion where overacting must have been a temptation, with the restraint of a polished artist.