EDITORIAL: The Great Tragedy of 'On the Silver Globe'

Wow.

In this world, we are sometimes faced with cinematic experiences beyond description, enigmatic films that enslave its viewers with an almost metaphysical force. I’ve seen plenty of films that have left me awestruck, mystified, fascinated, provoked, and ultimately speechless, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this confounded by my own experience with a film. I have just watched On the Silver Globe, Andrzej Zulawski’s visionary 1988 sci-fi epic.

My writings on the subject of On the Silver Globe were originally supposed to be just a typical Weekly Recap mini-review. After watching this, however, On the Silver Globe cannot possibly be summarized in such a short entry of 300-500 words. Such a singularly unique experience would probably earn a complete review, but I still don’t know if I can possibly give a proper and fair review (more on that later). Honestly, I probably shouldn’t even be writing this soon, considering that I’m still in the midst of processing what I’ve just seen, but I can’t possibly keep quiet about it.

When On the Silver Globe Opens, a collection of footage is discovered – allegedly, it has mysteriously fallen from the sky. When they review it, the footage chronicles the expedition of a team of astronauts who have left Earth into the great unknown of space. They crash-land on a planet similar to Earth, and with breathable air and sustainable geography, they decide to begin life anew on this new planetary discovery. We watch, always from the team’s camera, as the population humbly starts with the three astronauts, and steadily expands more and more, until the society begins practicing wild shamanistic rituals and occasionally conflicting with each other.

In the second act, Marek (Andrzej Zeweryn), a scientist particularly compelled by the footage from the astronauts, travels to this planet. Upon arrival, he is treated like a messiah, the one who will free them from the tyranny of the Szerns, the master tribe of the planet. Marek gets roped into this strange indigenous world, and finds himself commanding an army into battle and bloodshed.

I admit that I had much trouble following the plot, but I was never lost to the point of giving up on the film. After all, it’s more concerned with its philosophy – the plot, while not arbitrary simply exists as a means to make sense of the dawn of civilization, man’s duality, the inevitability of conflict, and so on. Though overwrought, the film is always fascinating. Honestly, the experience of watching On the Silver Globe is exactly like what Marek must have felt like watching the astronaut's footage: alien and otherworldly, and that's why it's so fascinating.

On the Silver Globe is a kinetic film, to almost disorienting degrees – in both its narrative as well as its visuals. It is also a technical marvel. The entire first half of the film is shot from the POV of the astronaut’s body cams – i.e., found footage, a bold and innovative move for this time. Even though Cannibal Holocaust from 1980 is credited as the first found footage film, On the Silver Globe’s (released in ’88, remind you) production actually predates that of Cannibal Holocaust, as production for the former started in the mid-70s.

But then as we transition to Marek’s expedition onto the planet, we veer from found footage onto more traditional exhibition of the scenario, but even here, the camera is never still, but the dynamic camerawork is never forced or pandering. It’s truly a spectacle, and the amazing set and costume designs really create a world all its own. I may not know exactly what I’ve seen, but I know what I watched could have been one of the greatest sci-fi achievements of the 20^th Century.

I can’t begin to emphasize what this film could have been.

Backstory time: Andrzej Zulawski enjoyed moderate success in Poland with his 1975 film That Most Important Thing: Love. The buzz around this film was so remarkable that Polish Cultural Affairs green-lighted Zulawski to make whatever he wanted as his next project. His next film would be his dream project: On the Silver Globe, based on a 1900 novel written by his great uncle, Jerzy. With complete government approval, Zulawski embarked on this spectacular and ambitious undertaking of a film.

All seemed to be going well, with filming spanning all over Poland. By 1977, 4/5ths of On the Silver Globe were completed, but that’s when Zulawski hit an impenetrable roadblock: the newly appointed Vice Minister of Cultural Affairs, one Janusz Wilhelmi, not only halted the production without question (too many problematic political allegories), but sent Zulawski into exile. Crestfallen, Zulawski sank into the quicksand of melancholy of his pet project being, essentially, murdered. Something along the lines of good news came along – it turns out the film was not destroyed, but preserved. Though there was no chance or possibility of the film being completed, with 4/5ths of a movie, it was better than showing absolutely nothing. In 1988, Andrzej Zulawski finally unveiled On the Silver Globe at the Cannes Film Festival, with Zulawski giving brief narrations in lieu of the missing segments.

As a huge film enthusiast, it’s always a tragedy to see a film eviscerated by the Powers That Be and we the people are left with only scraps. With On the Silver Globe, though, it’s especially tragic and especially frustrating when the remainders of the evisceration contain evidence of what could have been a remarkable achievement – I sat there for over two-and-a-half hours and endured one of the biggest teases of my life. It’s also what makes the film feel more convoluted than it actually might have been, if completed. Many of the missing segments are not minor bits and pieces here and there, but significant chapters in the film’s story. Yeah, Zulawski tells us what’s happening, but the characters and situations get zero chance to settle into the viewer’s experience of the film. Even with a nutshell explanation, it still feels like everything that happens just comes out of nowhere. All of this incompetence, and it’s not even the filmmakers fault.

There was The Magnificent Ambersons, there was Ivan the Terrible, there was Alejandro Jodorowsky’s unrealized adaptation of Dune, and in the company of these would-be masterpieces is On the Silver Globe. Do I recommend it? I honestly don’t know. I walked in knowing I was watching an incomplete film, and it was still maddening to watch with that foreknowledge. But for that anger to ensue, that must mean there’s something worthwhile in that celluloid, and there definitely is. If you search for a visionary head-trip into depths few filmmakers fear to tread, your search will be profoundly satisfied with On the Silver Globe, but the search will have to continue.