LAST AND FIRST MEN: A Poetic Science Fiction Experiment

Last and First Men is an alternative history of humanity from nearly a century ago, presented in an unconventional form.
British philosopher and writer Olaf Stapledon (1886–1950) is a somewhat forgotten author today, though he influenced renowned successors such as Stanisław Lem [1], Arthur C. Clarke, and Brian Aldiss. His debut novel, Last and First Men: A Story of the Near and Far Future, published in 1930 [2], proved particularly inspiring. This work, often described as a “myth of science fiction,” depicts the history of humanity over two billion years and across eighteen human species, from the First Men (Homo sapiens) living on Earth to subsequent species settled on Venus, and finally to the most advanced Last Men, who colonized Neptune. Last and First Men was one of the earliest science fiction novels to explore themes of genetic engineering, transhumanism, and terraforming. Among its admirers were Jorge Luis Borges, Virginia Woolf, H.P. Lovecraft, Bertrand Russell, and Winston Churchill.
Last and First Men must have also left a strong impression on Jóhann Jóhannsson—an Icelandic composer and filmmaker—who nearly a decade ago set out to adapt Stapledon’s book into a film. He co-wrote the screenplay with José Enrique Macián and, together with cinematographer Sturla Brandth Grøvlen, traveled across the Balkans to capture footage on black-and-white, grainy 16mm film of the so-called spomeniks—modernist monuments built between the 1960s and 1990s across the former Yugoslavia. Made primarily of concrete, steel, and aluminum, these structures commemorate various historical events of the region (a list, photos, and history of these fascinating objects can be found [here]). The film combined images of these monuments with narration by Tilda Swinton and a score composed by Jóhannsson and Yair Elazar Glotman. Last and First Men premiered in July 2017 at the Manchester International Festival but only reached wider distribution in 2020, two years after Jóhannsson’s death.
As one might expect, Last and First Men does not follow a traditional narrative structure with main characters or dialogue. Instead, the entire storytelling, drawn directly from Stapledon’s novel, relies on an alternative history of humanity, narrated by Swinton over instrumental music and sequences of spomenik footage. The film features locations such as the Monument to the Revolution of the People of Moslavina in Croatia, the Bubanj Memorial Park in Serbia, the Miners’ Monument in Kosovo, the Necropolis of the Victims of Fascism in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and the Monument to the Fallen Warriors in Montenegro. The hypnotic soundtrack, Swinton’s soothing voice, and the brutalist monuments filling every frame combine into a poetic science fiction film with an unconventional form but a classic theme. Lasting just over an hour, Jóhannsson’s work should be seen more as an audiovisual poem or an experimental arthouse piece rather than a standard film production.
In this sense, Last and First Men is reminiscent of other cinematic experiments such as Begotten (1989) by E. Elias Merhige, Lyrisch Nitraat (1991) by Peter Delpeut, and Decasia (2002) by Bill Morrison, which also sought to merge unique visual storytelling with almost philosophical contemplation. However, while Jóhannsson and Grøvlen’s filmed spomeniks appear magnificent—decaying obelisks resembling mysterious structures of an unknown civilization, like alien artifacts on a desolate planet—Stapledon’s excerpts often feel overly solemn, filled with platitudes about transience, humanity’s insignificance in the vastness of the universe, and the superiority of collective unity over individualism. Without its visual artistry, the film might risk becoming just a monotonous audiobook. Conversely, without its narration and music, what would remain is merely a parade of breathtaking landscapes with artistic pretensions.
[1] See S. Lem, Library of the 21st Century, Kraków 2023, p. 130.
[2] Polish edition: O. Stapledon, Last and First Men: A Story of the Near and Far Future, trans. T. Walenciak, Warsaw 2020.