Vivian Sobchak’s Screening Space: The American Science Fiction Film seeks to fill a “small part of that vast black hole in space which metaphorically represents the lack of aesthetic criticism available to serious film scholars (and fans) of the genre” (11-12). The study is limited in several, very helpful ways. First, Sobchak concentrates solely on American science fiction film. This allows for a more detailed description of the various films. It also allows her to make broad arguments about the unique nature of American science fiction film. The author also confines herself to science fiction films made after 1950. Finally, this book deals primarily with the aesthetic qualities of science fiction film. Thus, the chapters are organized thematically. Chapter one focuses on definitions of science fiction, problems with the concept of genre and a comparison of science fiction literature and film; chapter two with the visual qualities of science fiction film; chapter three with the auditory qualities of film; chapter four with the concept of postfuturism and its relevance to science fiction.

    Chapter three contains a very interesting discussion on the role of dialogue in science fiction films. More specifically, Sobchak argues that, oftentimes science fiction films will feature radio broadcasts, public speeches or television news presentations as an integral part of the film world. This dialogue serves to draw the viewer into the film. No matter how exotic or futuristic the world depicted in the film might be, the viewer is comforted by the “ritual” of traditional news dialogue. In the case of THX 1138 Sobchak insightfully calls attention to the film’s separation of television and public voices, even though they are linked by implication. Thus, characters in the film will communicate through intercoms—they are completely dependent upon the media for their interpretations and experiences of other people. “In this film, speeches and rhetoric unattached to human bodies fill the sound track, seem to emanate from corridots, phone booths, confessionals, and black walls” (196). The rest of the chapter is also helpful, illuminating the way in which science fiction transforms spoken language ( for example, the use of “nadsat” in A Clockwork Orange), the concept of the “word as image,” and the importance of non-verbal sound.

    David Seed’s American Science Fiction and the Cold War reviews the major cinematic and literary works of science fiction from the end of the 1940s to the late 1980s. The book begins with a particularly captivating introduction focusing on the work of French philosopher Jacques Derrida. Seed first brings attention to a school of post-structural analysis called “Nuclear Criticism.” Members of this school, including Derrida, argued that nuclear conflict can only be a signified referent of a discourse or text because the real referent has never occurred. Using this as a foundation, Seed makes the argument that the status of science fiction literature is raised—“if nuclear war can only be approached speculatively then [the literature] can occupy a space equal to sociological, strategic and other modes of speculation” (4). This adds a layer of depth to any study of Cold War science fiction film and makes it easy to argue why that study is relevant.

    The introduction also provides a useful description of the way in which science fiction literature during the Cold War was used as a vehicle for social criticism. Literature and film of the time often insightfully illustrated the power of secrecy and its use as a mechanism of social control. Chapter 5, focusing on “Cultures of surveillance” elaborates on this theme. A thorough discussion of iconic science fiction dystopias—1984, Brave New World, and Player Piano—provides examples of Cold War writers criticizing the development of the national security state during the conflict. Once again, Seed helpfully sketches out links between this literature and contemporary philosophical developments. In this case, Seed points out that these “cultures of surveillance” are akin to the “panopticism” elucidated in Michel Foucault’s Discipline and Punish. Chapter 10 provides a further extension by looking at how this surveillance gave rise to the “conspiracy narrative.” The chapter looks at the work of Philip K. Dick in detail. While THX 1138 goes unmentioned, the larger arguments of Seed’s work are certainly relevant to a study that seeks to position Lucas’s film in the dystopian tradition.