Fantastic Fiction: Science Fiction From Beyond the Iron Curtain: The Silent Star

In the early 1960s, the Cold War was at its height. In August 1961, the Berlin Wall was built practically overnight, closing the final gap in the Iron Curtain. And in 1962, the Cuban missile crisis brought the world to the brink of nuclear war.

This volatile global situation was reflected in the science fiction of the time, and not just in the West either. Science fiction was never solely a western genre; Eastern Europe has its own rich tradition of science fiction, as Rachel Cordasco explains here.

Eastern Europe not only has a proud tradition of speculative literature but also of fantastic film. Most of these were fantasy films, often fairy tale adaptations, lavishly produced, occasionally slyly subversive, and well worth watching. However, a handful of science fiction films were made beyond the Iron Curtain as well, such as the 1960 East German/Polish co-production Der Schweigende Stern, literally The Silent Star, though the movie was released as First Spaceship to Venus in the West.

The Silent Star was based on Stanislaw Lem’s 1951 novel Astronauci (Astronauts), though Lem allegedly hated the movie. Director Kurt Maetzig was one of East Germany’s most respected directors, though he was best known for more realistic fare like a biopic about German Communist leader Ernst Thälmann. Maetzig reportedly fought the head of East Germany’s DEFA studios to be allowed to make The Silent Star.

While Hollywood SF films were usually B-movies of questionable quality, The Silent Star is an A-grade production and one of the most expensive East German movies of all time. At one point, Kurt Maetzig requisitioned the entire annual East German production of glue to portray a burbling alien mass that menaces the intrepid cosmonauts.

The Silent Star begins in the not-so-far-off future of 1970, when a mysterious recording in an unknown language is unearthed in Siberia. Scientists realize that the message originated on Venus and came to Earth during the so-called Tunguska event in 1908.

Once humanity is aware that there is a civilization on Venus, they try to establish communication. When Venus does not reply, they decide to send a spaceship to investigate—one that the Soviet Union just so happens to have lying around, the elegant Kosmokrator.

The mission to Venus is an international endeavour, so the Kosmokrator has a multinational crew. Director Kurt Maetzig initially planned to hire actors from the West, like Simone Signoret and Yves Montand, but the DEFA heads would have none of that, so Maetzig had to settle for various East European actors. The sole Western star, French-Japanese singer and actress Yoko Tani, was more of a starlet. One cast member, Ruth-Maria Kubitschek, who appears in a small role as the wife of a cosmonaut, would leave East Germany not long afterwards and become a TV star in West Germany.

Nonetheless, the crew of the Kosmokrator is remarkably diverse by 1960 standards and consists of Russian astronomer Professor Arsenyew, Polish engineer Soltyk and his robot Omega, German pilot Raimund Brinkmann, Indian mathematician Professor Sikarna, Chinese linguist and biologist Dr. Chen Yu, African communications technician Talua, and the only woman on board, Japanese doctor Sumiko Ogimura. There’s even a token American crewmember, nuclear physicist Professor Harringway Hawling, who joins the mission against the wishes of a group of cartoonish American capitalists. The scene with the capitalists, while unintentionally funny, is one of the moments where the film tilts into pure propaganda territory.

In many ways, the crew of the Kosmokrator preempts the diverse spaceship crews we would see in Star Trek and the West German TV show Space Patrol Orion six years later. The Kosmokrator crew includes three actors of color portraying the Chinese, Japanese, and African crewmembers, though the Indian professor is played by a white actor in brownface (a practice that was still prevalent at the time). Unfortunately, only one character of color survives to the end of the movie.

While the diversity of the crew echoes Star Trek and Space Patrol Orion, the Kosmokrator crew are a dull and serious bunch and lack the characterization and sparkling banter that make Star Trek and Space Patrol Orion so memorable.

What little exists of characterization is mostly melodrama focused on Sumiko Ogimura, who is a survivor of the Hiroshima bombing and was rendered infertile due to radiation exposure, which torpedoes her budding romance with pilot Brinkmann. Meanwhile, the token American, Hawling, is revealed to have worked on the Manhattan project. The repeated references to Hiroshima are another instance where the film ventures into the realm of propaganda, especially since there is no mention that the Soviet Union also has atomic weapons at this time. Apparently, nuclear weapons are only bad when used by American capitalists.

After surviving perils such as a meteorite storm, a rampaging robot, and a risky repair in space, the Kosmokrator finally reaches Venus and the crew find themselves in a dreamlike surrealist landscape rendered in glorious Agfacolor. What’s missing, however, are the Venusians. Worse, when Dr. Chen-Yu and Professor Sikarna finally decipher the Venusian recording, they realize that it is a declaration of war.

Eventually, the Kosmokrator crew determines that the Venusians tried to nuke Earth back in 1908, only to blow themselves up in the process. However, their atomic cannon is still functional and aimed at Earth. Worse, the blundering cosmonauts managed to reactivate it…

The Silent Star is a 93-minute-long warning about the dangers of nuclear war, made when the Cold War was at the highest risk of turning hot. The Venusian landscapes are stunning and the high point of the film. The propaganda bits are eye-rollingly blunt (and were cut from the Western release of the film and only restored for the DVD), but the movie serves as a reminder that in spite of ideological differences, people on both sides of the Iron Curtain shared the same fear of nuclear war.