Citadel Press, 1975. — 240 p. — ISBN: 0806505370, 0806502630.
Jeff Rovin, a former columnist for magazines including OMNI and Analog, provides a pictorial history/overview of Science Fiction film upto the early 1970s.
Science fiction is, at best, a very subjective label. It is easy enough to call a film like Fantastic Voyage or Marooned science fiction, but what of Frankensfein? Certainly it is based in scientific speculation; yet most people would call it a horror film. We have included it in this book, along with such films as The Time Machine and Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea, even though many aficionados would consider these not science fiction, but fantasy. That the several genres overlap there is obviously no doubt. It is therefore best that people build their own definitions. However, these personal boundaries are so diverse that it would be impossible to please everyone. Thus, for our purposes, science fiction will be broadly defined as any science-based event that has not occurred but conceivably could, given the technology of the period in which a film is set.
In ourtext we malign many films, but we love all science-fiction films, from the markedly absurd (like King Kong vs. Godzilla), to the technically inept (like King Dinosaur), to the awful (like Frankenstein Meets the Space Monster), to the profound (like 2001: A Space Odyssey), to the spectacular (like Forbidden Planet). There is something about the genre — perhaps its loving tolerance for the patently fantastic — that is refreshing in a world where exactitude and precision are pursued with feverish deliberation and imagination and flights of fancy are frowned upon by the masses as impractical. It is for this reason, too, that we have not attempted any weighty dissertations on science fiction as a social mirror or psychological showcase. There are books enough of that sort already. These volumes dissect science fiction and make a shambles of its beauty. Take any living entity and dissect it, analyze it, tear it to pieces, and categorize the parts — and you no longer have a useful whole; what remain are only pieces that can be interpreted, and reassembled, often in many different ways.
So although we may trace the origins or raison d'etre for a particular film, we entertain no discussions about how Morbius' Id in Forbidden Planet foreshadowed Mothra's victory over Godzilla in Godzillavs. the Thing or how The Beast from Twenty Thousand Fathoms is really Touchbottom from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Of course, anyone can read a message into afilm: for example, critics have recently chosen to see King Kong as the black man rebelling against white oppression. There is a case for this if one is inclined to look at things that way, but this book is an entertainment, rather than a lofty critical document. It is informal, hardly pedantic, and created solely for the enjoyment of the lay reader and interested fan.
Ray Harryhausen, to whom this work is dedicated, is one of the most prominent members of the science-fiction community. Mr. Harryhausen is the medium's greatest special-effects man; his work in such films as Twenty Million Miles to Earth and Seventh Voyage of Sinbad remain the finest examples of screen wizardry in history. And thanks are in order to Allan Asherman, without whose contribution this book could never have been created. Al supplied all the photographs, offered information on many of the films, and wrote the remarkably perceptive first draft of the discussion of Things to Come.
We have chosen to emphasize certain films in this volume's pictorial section. You will notice, for instance, a plethora of stills from Forbidden Planet, When Worlds Collide, Planet of the Apes, and 2001: A Space Odyssey. All photographs were chosen for their historical and entertainment value, as well as the interest they would likely generate. Thus, if you are a fan of Catwoman of the Moon or Reptilicus, you have been slighted. Forgive us.