Hollywood’s vision of the future, as depicted in classic films, often leans towards dystopian landscapes filled with robotic mayhem and post-apocalyptic struggles. While the 2020-2021 pandemic felt like a scene ripped from a sci-fi movie, the futures promised by Tinsel Town usually involve far worse: think mutant hordes, desolate wastelands, and an alarming prevalence of unflattering unisex jumpsuits. If anything, Ib Melchior’s Time Travelers 1964 film, The Time Travelers (American International Pictures), does little to dispel this apprehension about humanity’s destiny.
The premise of The Time Travelers is classic B-movie sci-fi. A lab mishap propels a team of scientists from July 5, 1964, into the distant future – 107 years to be exact. This temporal leap occurs when an overzealous technician pushes a circuit board beyond its limits, causing a portal to materialize. In true sci-fi fashion, venturing through this shimmering doorway is a one-way ticket. Once crossed, an impenetrable force field prevents any return to the familiar comforts of 1964.
Upon stepping through, the scientists discover they are still on Earth, albeit a drastically changed one. It’s now 2071, and the planet is a barren wasteland, a consequence of “man’s own folly,” illustrated by spliced-in stock footage of atomic explosions. Humanity’s remnants have retreated to subterranean caves, constantly threatened by radiation-scarred mutants seeking to breach their shelters.
Interestingly, the survivors aren’t on the front lines against these mutant aggressors. Instead, they’ve engineered a race of androids, distinguished by their inverted football-shaped heads, to handle the dangerous work of defense. The humans themselves are preoccupied with a grander project: building a starship. Their ambitious plan is to escape Earth’s dying grasp and journey to Alpha Centauri, the only other planet they believe capable of sustaining human life.
A less-than-benevolent member of this future society introduces a conflict. He argues that the starship, in its current design, cannot bear the additional weight of the unexpected arrivals from 1964. His solution? Leave the time travelers behind to fend for themselves in the desolate future.
While vintage sci-fi often holds a certain charm, The Time Travelers struggles to captivate. Despite a relatively short runtime of 84 minutes, the film feels drawn out. Viewers might find themselves reaching for the pause button, not out of suspense, but perhaps to grab a snack or simply check if time itself is moving at a glacial pace. While seemingly positioned as a successor to the golden age of 1950s sci-fi, The Time Travelers unfortunately misses the mark.
Melchior’s screenplay is functional at best, and the direction is uninspired. Even his co-writing credit on Robinson Crusoe on Mars, another 1964 film, showcases a more engaging narrative. Cinematographer William Zsigmond’s camera work lingers on static long shots of figures trudging through the rocky California landscape, meant to represent a desolate future. The editing by Hal Dennis contributes to the film’s sluggish pacing. A contemporary review from Daily Variety in November 1964 echoes this sentiment, criticizing the “stagey” special effects, “so-so” camera work, and editing. (Zsigmond, however, would later achieve legendary status in cinematography).
The Time Travelers is punctuated by moments where the audience yearns for something – anything – exciting to unfold. A subplot involving a non-mutant survivor seeking refuge with the cave dwellers hints at thematic depth, exploring the breakdown of human empathy in desperate times. However, this intriguing thread is quickly dropped, overshadowed by the film’s overall lack of momentum.
Yet, amidst the film’s shortcomings, glimmers of inspiration emerge. The film features a “Love Machine,” a device designed to provide partner-less sexual gratification in a resource-scarce future where emotional and sexual desires are suppressed. Could this concept have been a precursor to Woody Allen’s “Orgasmatron” in Sleeper?
Furthermore, the technologically advanced survivors, despite their starship’s weight limitations, have developed a matter transporter. Remarkably, this device predates the transporter in Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek by a couple of years. Melchior’s transporter, however, lacks the dynamism of its Star Trek counterpart, depicting subjects being rotated like rotisserie chickens before dematerializing.
In terms of action, android threats are neutralized with thrown rocks and fire extinguisher blasts. The survivors’ fashion choices consist of powder blue jumpers with wide necklines, and incongruous light comedy skits are awkwardly inserted into the doomsday narrative. Richard La Salle’s score mirrors this unevenness, oscillating between moody and appropriate and jarringly juvenile during the comedic interludes.
The cast delivers serviceable performances, but no one elevates the material beyond its limitations. Sharp-eyed viewers might spot Forrest J. Ackerman, the iconic editor of Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine, in a cameo. His brief appearance likely served as a strategic move to secure publicity in Ackerman’s influential magazine.
While there’s a certain nostalgic affection for B-grade sci-fi thrillers of the 50s and 60s, with their outlandish plots, low-budget charm, and earnest pronouncements of post-apocalyptic morality, The Time Travelers struggles to join the ranks of “guilty pleasures.” Though occasionally amusing, it’s not a film that demands a revisit. For dedicated fans of vintage sci-fi, The Time Travelers isn’t necessarily a waste of time, but rather a film that squanders promising ideas and good intentions.
This Kino Lorber/Scorpion Releasing Blu-ray edition presents The Time Travelers in its original color, 1080p High-Definition Widescreen (1.85:1), with English DTS-HD 2.0 Mono sound. The Blu-ray includes trailers for The Time Travelers, Trackdown, Beast with a Million Eyes, Rollerball, and Invisible Invaders.
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