Which director is the KING of science fiction? There can be only one, but in THREE persons

I’ll explain this paradox in a moment, hopefully more accessibly than theologians do in their lectures on natural theology. As you’ll soon see, I ended up with a “trinity” of masters without whom modern science fiction would not exist. Originally, I aimed to name just one, a specific individual. But it didn’t work out because no single person could bear the weight of the sci-fi kingdom alone—too many iconic elements in the genre were created by others. For a moment, I even considered including Coppola, who could have made a last-minute, legendary entry into sci-fi with a single genius move. What a fantastic debut that would have been, elevating the genre’s prestige! Alas, “Megalopolis” did not become the crowning jewel of Coppola’s career. But did he truly need the world of science fiction to solidify his standing as a “total artist”? I have my doubts.

The other Three Kings, who created their masterpieces around the same time and inspired each other, leave no room for doubt. They are “total” in the literal sense of the word, proving themselves as brilliant directors in other genres, garnering Oscars, Golden Globes, and numerous other accolades. Ridley Scott, Steven Spielberg, and James Cameron are sci-fi royalty, setting the standard for decades on what this genre should look like in film.

As for Coppola, his film collided headfirst with the weight of his ambitions and expectations, much like Biff Tannen in “Back to the Future”, crashing into a truckload of manure while chasing Marty. In Zemeckis’s film, this was a humorous twist, a fitting punishment for the villain. Here, however, I view the failure of “Megalopolis” not as a personal setback or a waste of money, but as a loss for the sci-fi genre. Imagine the impact on critical opinion if someone as monumental and previously unrelated to sci-fi as Coppola had created a sci-fi film on par with “Apocalypse Now” or “The Godfather”. Instead, the poor reviews and financial performance of “Megalopolis” will likely fuel further negative opinions about science fiction as a genre for “less mature” viewers. For those interested, I delve deeper into this topic in my essay “Children of a Lesser God,” where I discuss insights on sci-fi from critics like Agata Passent and Max Cegielski, particularly in the context of Robert M. Wegner’s writing, which is representative of the views many film and literary critics hold.

I admit, I may have been overzealous in picturing Coppola as a candidate for this royal sci-fi trio. Still, I wouldn’t have minded if he’d dethroned someone like James Cameron with a masterpiece of his own.

However, Coppola and “Megalopolis” still have a chance. Take “Blade Runner”, which was given a second chance. Over decades, some films cement their status, while others transition from being dismissed to becoming cult classics. Time thus offers an unexpected opportunity for disappointed creators whose pride went unrecognized upon release. Perhaps future generations will see these works with a sense of nostalgia, a nearly unquestioning reverence for what is “old.” The question is whether those waiting for such delayed fame will still be physically and mentally able—or even alive—to enjoy their eventual success. Francis Ford Coppola’s odds are slim, which I deeply regret, but his younger fans may yet see it happen. The works of Ridley Scott, James Cameron, and Steven Spielberg, however, stood the test of time without relying on nostalgia to elevate their worth. This is another reason why these three directors are the kings of the genre—their creations have inspired countless others, including admired directors like Christopher Nolan, Denis Villeneuve, and Alex Garland.

So, what about this trinity? The concept of a three-in-one unity is a logical masterpiece, and I have always admired the flexibility of ancient minds who devised it, regardless of later religious adaptations. It unites what seems disparate—linking aspects without merging them physically, though they are perceived as a multifaceted unity. This contradiction is often merely apparent. After all, we love strawberries. There’s no doubt they exist, yet they are actually a hybrid of two types of wild strawberries—Chilean and Virginian. Scott, Cameron, and Spielberg are not a biological hybrid, but their sci-fi works from the ’70s and ’80s do intertwine, complement, and mirror each other. I wouldn’t dare suggest that the sci-fi masterpieces of any one of them would have the same impact over the ages if one of the three were absent. How could I imagine the history of science fiction without “Terminator”, “Alien”, or “Jurassic Park”? By choosing one king, I would deny the timeless value of one of these works, which are vital to sci-fi. Intriguingly, none of these creators studied film direction professionally. Their remarkable careers arose from a genuine love of cinema and an intuitive approach to directing. They paved their own paths, initially drawing on others’ experiences and ultimately establishing their unique methods of filmmaking. What’s more, they’ve proven capable of returning to their iconic films and successfully directing sequels or reboots—Scott with “Prometheus”, Cameron with the “Terminator” universe, Spielberg with “War of the Worlds”. Even in this rare realm of successful sequels, they excel, a feat not often achieved in cinema.

I’d call these directors the Prometheans of sci-fi, although younger generations are already hot on their heels. Perhaps in 20 years, we’ll see a new trio of directors who have claimed their share of the sci-fi landscape. Or maybe one will emerge as the undisputed king, without needing the paradoxical concept of three-in-one. We’ll also see which direction science fiction itself evolves—some of it has already become real, turning into retro-futuristic visions of an alternative world. Perhaps we’ll eventually see a director without a physical body at all—introducing, at last, a truly “divine” element in film.