The Black Hole: Enigma of Space and Cinema by Anthony Brum

Black holes: awe-inspiring phenomena of deep space. Capable of devouring planets, stars, entire galaxies, they wield such power even light cannot break free of their grasp. Heavenly bodies that cross their path are wrenched apart or swallowed whole, and destroyed in the blink of a cosmic eye. Space travel of the future will map all known black holes, so deadly are their reputation, and any deliberate approach would be undertaken with extreme caution. Who would risk venturing to the brink? Who would dare peer into the heart, and chance plunging beyond the invisible and deadliest of boundaries: the event horizon, beyond which escape is impossible? No sane person would attempt such a journey. To soar into, through and beyond a black hole and survive such a quest: these are the musings of a madman.

The Black Hole was Disney’s 1979 feature set in the outer parts of the galaxy. Keen to replicate the recent success of Star Wars, and with the public’s growing appetite for all things Space, what could go wrong? We join the crew of the USS Palomino, who happen upon a seemingly abandoned spacecraft, the USS Cygnus, suspended in close proximity to a black hole. They investigate, one thing leads to another, and become trapped on board the Cygnus, which is captained by Dr Hans Reinhardt. There is no sign of the original crew; Reinhardt explains they were ordered to evacuate after the ship was damaged in a meteor storm decades previously. He has since created his own personnel: robed automatons clad with mirrored masks that amble around, carrying out their duties. It makes for a cheerless environment. Such unhurried behaviour aboard the Death Star would warrant a clout across the backside with a light sabre. At Reindhart’s side is Maximillian, his robotic henchman. Max silently floats around and despite being armed with a laser; prefers to slice through his victims with a pair of spinning blades. The plot moves forward at the pace of a Sunday night whodunit, and our heroes discover the faceless operatives are in fact, the original crew. Reindhart has transformed them into zombies with a murderous procedure that removes all personality and leaves them compliant to his will. He has also laid bare his intentions: to fly into the black hole, believing the technology he has developed will allow safe passage. Events do not go to plan. The spacecraft, already damaged from a botched getaway by one member of the Palomino, takes a battering from a band of meteors and cannot withstand the increase in gravity. Multiple fires break out and a large screen dislodges from the failing ship, trapping the doctor.  He shouts for help but his cries are unacknowledged; cloaked figures continue to man their stations, oblivious to the surrounding chaos.

The remaining crew of the Palomino have decided it’s time to leave. They launch from a small probe ship, believing it is still just possible to avoid catastrophe, but fate is not with them; the vehicle has been programmed to make the journey through the black hole. With no choice other than hope their erstwhile lunatic host has got his sums right, they embark on the mission, and then something very odd happens. I saw the film on the big screen when it was originally released and I remember little, other than being mystified by the ending. We see Dr Reindhart floating through space, resembling a bedraggled castaway. He meets Max. They drift from our field of view and then reappear. Reindhart is inside Max. How did that happen? He’s clearly in there, we can see his eyes through the sinister slit in Max’s head. But Reindhart is bigger than Max. And he didn’t even have a screwdriver. We pan back and see the unholy alliance atop a mountain, while Hellish fire rages all around. A corridor of crystal arches appears which we fly through and an ethereal figure whips past. What is going on? The pod shoots out, emerging from a bright light towards a planetary body of some sort. The crew look confused. So does the audience. And it finishes, as abruptly as that.

What happened? I don’t know. The conclusion to the film is jarringly out of step with the previous ninety five minutes. It might have been more interesting if this was the start of the film rather than the end, but it never matched the style and pace of Star Wars.

Reindhart only has himself to blame for his demise. He robbed his crew of the power of speech. He created an army of security droids who couldn’t talk. Even Max, his Number One, was a silent killer. Had Max been a bit more empathetic, maybe wired up to Alexa or the technology of the late 70’s, a Speak & Spell, they could have shared a few coffee mornings and  gone through the ins and outs of his masterplan. Reindhart may well have concluded it would be best for everyone if the mystery of what lies beyond the black hole, should remain a mystery.

 

Please check out my space adventure for middle-grade/ 9-12 year olds- “Imbrium City: Rise of the New Defenders,” available on Kindle and paperback large print.

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3 Comments - Write a Comment

  1. Hello,
    I too was mystified by the end, so much that I read the novelization by Alan Dean Foster, got the comics adaptation and the collected cards (in fact they were glued to a book, I don’t know how you call that).

    Long story short, sometime ago I read a theory somewhere on the Great Hive Mind, known as the internet, that concluded that the crew travelled through Hell (à la Dante, complete with circles and all) and got to Heaven. So when you travel through a black hole you enter Hell coming the other side on a White Hole!

    That theory was also on the comics adaptation.

    Anyway it’s not like Disney is ever gonna enlighten us, perhaps because at its core this movie is 20.000 leagues under the sea in space. 🙂

    Reply
    1. Hi Ricardo. I remember that idea of Maximillian in Hell in some of the film reviews when the movie came out, too. At the time Disney was trying to become darker and more grown-up, and this was seen by many as a move towards that – see also the ill-fated movie version of Something Wicked This Way Comes, too.

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  2. For all it’s faults, I still quite enjoyed the film, but I don’t think it will ever be remembered as a classic of the genre.

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