If the 1950s was the decade in which science fiction cinema began to mature and evolve, and the 1960s was the era where it started to experiment and stretch in new directions, then the 1970s was the period when the genre more or less went batshit insane.
The movies of the era continued to touch on socially and globally relevant themes, a trend that began 20 years earlier, while also continuing the literary pedigree and even more progressive concerns of the decade prior. But they did so in ever weirder ways, taking big swings (and often steep plunges as well) as many of the films of the decade aimed high but lacked the resources to match their ambitions.
Still, even the clunkier efforts of the ‘70s had their charms, and the creative success stories touched nerves in ways that the films of the previous decades hadn’t quite achieved. But almost none of the movies of this turbulent decade garnered the kind of critical approval lavished upon other genres at that time, with sci-fi still considered a lesser cinematic arena than more upscale categories. Some of the era’s output has been reappraised since then, however, and we’d venture that the genre was at its unbridled best in terms of imagination and creative freedom then. Well, at least until 1977 when a little movie called Star Wars came along and made the studios realize that there was box office gold in that secluded little sci-fi valley—and moved in with big budgets and armies of development execs.
We can debate the ramifications of that until the sun itself goes supernova, but in the meantime, here are two dozen of the 1970s’ most underrated and signature sci-fi movies for you to bend your mind with. You’re welcome.
Colossus: The Forbin Project (1970)
If you think A.I. is bad news, wait until you get a load of Colossus, the supercomputer built by the brilliant Dr. Charles Forbin (Eric Braeden) that is supposed to control the United States’ defense systems and is impervious to attack. Well, when Colossus comes online, it does exactly what it’s programmed to do—and then links up with its previously undisclosed Soviet counterpart, Guardian, with the two machines declaring themselves in charge of the entire world.
Sort of like the old Star Trek episode “The Ultimate Computer” on massive steroids, Colossus is genuinely gripping as the coldly analytical Dr. Forbin begins to break down from the strain of trying to get his all-powerful technological genie back in the bottle, with terrifying results. Briskly directed by Joseph Sargent and written by James Bridges, Colossus was based on a novel by D.F. Jones. Pity we never got to film versions of Jones’ two sequels, in which a cult grows around Colossus, who is eventually deactivated and then rebooted when the Earth is threatened by an invasion from Mars.
Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970)
Although the original came out in 1968, the Apes franchise was one of the key sci-fi series of the 1970s, and in fact the first to tell one complete story over the course of five films. Escape from the Planet of the Apes (1971) and Conquest of the Planet of the Apes (1972) are generally considered the best of the sequels, but the special charm of the first follow-up, Beneath, is that the entire movie is out of its mind from start to finish.
Forced to write around star Charlton Heston, who agreed only to come back for a cameo, the filmmakers send astronaut Brent (James Franciscus) to find out what happened to Heston’s Col. Taylor. He ends up on the same future Earth where he meets the familiar society of intelligent apes as well as a new underground race of telepathic human mutants who worship a bomb that can destroy the world. The whole thing ends with apes, humans, and mutants killing each other off, with Heston reappearing just in time to detonate the bomb. Never has the end of the world been such bizarre, off-its-rocker fun.
The Andromeda Strain (1971)
A small town in New Mexico where all the residents are dead—except for a baby and the town drunk—is where Robert Wise’s tense adaptation of Michael Crichton’s novel begins. A team of four top scientists is assembled in a lab deep underground where they discover that the town was wiped out by a microscopic alien organism brought back from space by an unmanned satellite. If the incredibly lethal, ever-mutating organism escapes, all life on Earth could be threatened.
Wise, of course, directed The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) and later Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979), so he knows his way around large-scale sci-fi concepts. Crichton was years away from writing his biggest novel ever, Jurassic Park, but the idea of the smallest building blocks of life bringing catastrophe to the world was on his mind even back then. The cast of character actors brings a realism and immediacy to the proceedings. Interestingly, the character of Dr. Leavitt (Kate Reid) was switched from male to female for the movie—and no one back then got themselves tied up in knots about it.
THX 1138 (1971)
George Lucas always said that he set out to make little art films with his friends but this is perhaps the one example of him actually doing that. The man who created the Star Wars juggernaut began his directing career with this expansion of a student film he made while attending USC. Robert Duvall stars as the title character, who lives in a future underground totalitarian society where everyone is forced to take drugs to suppress all emotions and are kept under control by robotic police. The inhibition of emotions proves problematic, however, when THX 1138 falls in love with LUH 3417 (Maggie McOmie).
Lucas’ bleak, sterile view of a dystopian future is about as far as one can get from the lived-in, rough-and-tumble Star Wars universe, but the idea of a heavy-handed fascist government controlling everyone’s lives certainly rears its head in both properties. Narratively, THX 1138 plods along on thin, derivative ground, but Lucas’ creation of, and immersion in, this eerie world is complete and persuasive. A flop upon release, THX 1138 has since gained cult classic status, but the filmmaker behind it has not really been heard from since.
The Omega Man (1971)
It’s hard to think about ‘70s sci-fi and not summon up an image of Charlton Heston. Not only did he star in the first two Apes movies but he top-lined several more genre outings throughout the rest of the decade, one of which is this semi-iconic entry. The second of three movies (so far) to be based on Richard Matheson’s landmark novel I Am Legend, this one wanders the farthest afield from the source text, replacing Matheson’s vampires with albino-skinned mutants, although a biological plague (artificially created in the case of this movie) is responsible for both.
In The Omega Man, Heston’s Robert Neville is a scientist who injects himself with an experimental vaccine just before society collapses, making himself not just immune but possibly the savior of what’s left of humanity. In the meantime, he stalks the mutants during the day and they chase him around at night, which makes for an action-oriented, occasionally creepy B-movie that lacks the subtext and nuance of Matheson’s book. It’s still one of our favorites from the era though, with Heston in fine square-jawed form and Anthony Zerbe an effective mutant leader.
Silent Running (1972)
Even back in the 1970s, environmental catastrophe and climate change was on the minds of filmmakers, including visual effects legend Douglas Trumbull, who made his directorial debut with this effort and brought his usual visual razzle-dazzle to the table. A permanently perplexed Bruce Dern stars as Freeman (get it?), an ecologist on board one of eight domed spaceships containing the last plant life salvaged from Earth before all flora on the planet inexplicably died. When the crews are ordered to destroy the domes and return home, Freeman hatches a plan to save his dome and Earth’s last remaining greenery.
Dern’s hippie-ish Freeman is a bit hard to latch onto, and the movie can be heavy-handed, but Trumbull’s assured direction and special effects still make this a compelling and ultimately moving watch. It’s interesting also to note that Freeman’s three droid helpers—Huey, Dewey, and Louie—were a direct influence on R2-D2 five years later in Star Wars.
The Crazies (1973)
The Crazies was written and directed by George A. Romero during the strange twilight phase between his feature debut, 1968’s Night of the Living Dead, and its blockbuster sequel, 1979’s Dawn of the Dead. During that period, Romero experimented wildly, turning out one authentic masterpiece (Martin) and several other interesting titles, most of which did not get wide distribution. One of those is this, in which a military bioweapon gets loose in a small town and turns all the residents into homicidal maniacs.
The satirical edge that Romero brought fully to the forefront in Dawn gets a shakedown cruise here, as local town officials, the military, and the federal government are either seen as incompetent, venal, or both, while the tormented townspeople are the unwitting victims of the catastrophe unfolding around them. While the budget doesn’t quite match Romero’s aims and some of the acting is less than top-notch, The Crazies is chilling both in its continued relevancy and its bleak outlook.
