When Worlds Collide

Fifties science fiction films are where Hollywood (and occasionally Elstree) began erotically fantasising about the destruction of the human species, fantasies which are now full-blown wet dreams rendered all the more pornographic with the aid of spectacular digital effects. What hasn't really changed is that the alleged science underpinning the fiction is always utter tosh.

In this instance a new planet and its star are on a collision course with the Earth. I'm sorry, what? An unknown planet appears and is somehow hurtling towards us at speeds impossible within the laws of nature? It will collide with the Earth in eight months, preceded by the passing of its star which will devastate our planet? The star? The star will pass into and then beyond our orbit? Would you like to make a case for this even being possible within that timescale which doesn't make a complete mockery of physics as defined by both Newton and Einstein? You can't. And nobody could in the fifties but we didn't have the Discovery Channel then so nobody but actual scientists knew the science was bollocks.

There is also a whacking great loophole in the plot even if you do accept that somehow a rogue planet and an even more rogue star can bundle themselves towards Earth at such velocity. The clever folks who first spotted the problem proceed to build a rocket (boys: they are early Elbow fans) in which a handful of humans can escape to the other planet. Um. But it's going to collide with Earth. Collide with it. Destroying the Earth. And itself, surely. It's not a giant planet, it's not made of diamond, it's therefore no more impervious to the destructive forces of interstellar impact than is Earth. Escape to nowhere.

Which makes the entire movie pointless. And this review. So I won't continue.