I was watching the dystopian 1970s sci-fi romp Logan’s Run the other night, marvelling at its futuristic kitsch. Lean-limbed lovelies cavort in neon mini-togas throughout their Barbican Centre-esque underground lair, enjoying such Year 2274 amenities as office hot tubs and slow-motion sex clubs. It almost goes without saying that the film’s star, the Age of Aquarius’s go-to nubile Jenny Agutter, is resplendent in full side boob and under buttock-revealing effect. But as the plot progressed, my indulgent chuckles sputtered as the movie’s spooky prescience revealed itself. A sinister hunter robot that freezes humans for later snacking throws ahead to our inevitable AI overlords. The New You Shop, a walk-in plastic surgery clinic offering lunchtime face’n’body carve-ups, is only a teensy tweak away from today’s mall aestheticians.
And once the central premise of Logan’s Run is revealed, this potboiler seemingly mutates into a ripped-from-the-headlines documentary. Turns out these hedonistic remnants of humanity willingly surrender to ‘renewal’ (spoiler alert: extermination) at the ripe oldage of 30, thanks to a ritualistic ride on a jumbo bugzapper called ‘Carousel’. It transpires that our fictional 2274 counterparts are just as wary of ageing as we are, and despite justified reservations about Carousel’s hollow promises of ‘renewal’, they would rather voluntarily submit to spontaneous combustion in front of a sold-out arena than be seen in public with wrinkles and grey hair.
