Superallegorical

If you want an allegorically fantastic film to watch, watch 1978’s Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

Though billed as a science fiction/horror film, I like to think of it as a film of paranoia.

And not just fear of McCarthyism (as was suggested by critics of the original 1956 film) but of any ugly little quirk or tweak anyone might have in his or her psyche. The underlying conspiracy feeds particularly well to the following ecumenical bugaboos:

1. Monsanto
2. Chemtrails
3. Climate change
4. Climate change denial
5. Bararck Obama and the missing birth certificate
6. Donald Trump BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA!

Those who display the early paranoia are condescended to, even by the experts, who insist that the whatever that’s bothering them about their loved ones is, well, kinda their fault. Kibner tells whatserface that if her husband Geoffrey feels cold and distant, it might just be because she subconsciously wants to push away from him.

And if they’re not displayed as paranoiacs, they’re displayed as maniacs, as with the hapless Kevin McCarthy, whom I hope had a ball with his cameo.

Those who feel the paranoids are told it’s them, not us. Everyone tells the paranoiacs that getting a good night’s sleep will cure all their ills. Then they realize how much sleeping plays into the goal of the parasite behind it all.

The joy in this film’s paranoia is that we’re left basically clueless about motivation – or if not clueless, at least freaked out by the pods’ reproductions. Each character brings into the story their own version of what’s going on, from aliens to government experimentation to a vague, unexplainable feeling that something’s just wrong. With all these competing interpretations battling with ordinary peoples’ blasé reactions and the coolness of the pod people trying to keep things hidden enough they can carry out their reproductive needs keeps the motivations so open nobody really knows what to think. Just like in real life.

I particularly love the film’s treatment of San Francisco. Any other film set in this city would be dripping with fantastic views and wistful vistas, but in this film San Francisco really feels like any city, and gets more and more ugly and claustrophobic as the story goes on. Even the few wistful vistas shown in the film seem pale, washed out, and menacing – just as any familiar and beloved place would feel when you know at the foundation of all things that something is dreadfully wrong.

And to quote Scott Meyer, I love that this film came from the era of science fiction when “mankind battled his own self-destructive tendencies. And also apes.” There is no happy ending; this film has probably one of the best endings in science fiction, which feeds perfectly into the film’s theme of paranoia. Even those you trust the most can suddenly appear to have drunk the Kool-Aid.