“A Nietzschean Exploration of Zardoz
(1974): Nihilism, Technological Dominion, and Vital Affirmation”
Zardoz (1974), John Boorman’s philosophical cinematic allegory, portrays a post-apocalyptic schism between the immortal “Eternals,” secluded in their technological utopia of the “Vortex” under the dominion of the “Tabernacle”—an omniscient artificial intelligence—and the mortal “Brutals,” subjugated by the illusory deity “Zardoz.” The narrative pivots on the revelation that Zardoz is a fabrication crafted by the Eternal Arthur Frayn to control the Brutals, a deception unraveled when Zed, a Brutal warrior, kills Frayn and destroys the Tabernacle, forcing the Eternals to confront mortality. Imbued with philosophical depth, the film engages Friedrich Nietzsche’s reflections on the death of God, the Übermensch, eternal recurrence, and the perils of apathy, using the collapse of the Zardoz myth to explore humanity’s struggle with nihilism and the tension between embracing existence and succumbing to torpor. By addressing the enervating effects of artificial intelligence and digital omnipresence, Zardoz (1974) urges contemporary audiences to resist technological apathy and embrace creative agency.
The death of God, Nietzsche’s
seminal diagnosis of modernity, finds vivid expression in the exposure of
Zardoz as Arthur Frayn’s artifice. In Thus Spoke Zarathustra (1883–1885),
Nietzsche proclaims, “God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.
How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?” This heralds
the disintegration of all prior transcendental frameworks, thrusting humanity
into a nihilistic void. The revelation that Zardoz is a constructed deity,
designed to manipulate the Brutals, mirrors this collapse, exposing the divine
as a hollow instrument of control. The Tabernacle, sustaining the Eternals’
languid immortality, embodies the god of the “last man,” who “blinks” and seeks
only comfort. Their ennui, a consequence of the Tabernacle’s omnipotence,
reflects Nietzsche’s critique in On the Genealogy of Morality (1887) of
cultures “weary of themselves,” bereft of creative dynamism. In an age where
algorithms shape cultural engagement and artificial intelligence risks
supplanting human agency, Zardoz (1974) warns against yielding to technological
constructs that promise omniscience but foster existential paralysis.
Nietzsche’s distinction
between life-affirmative and life-disaffirmative impulses underpins the film’s
exploration of nihilism and redemption. In The Birth of Tragedy (1872),
Nietzsche contrasts the Dionysian, marked by vitality, creativity, and an embrace
of existence’s chaos, with the Apollonian, which, when unchecked, leans toward
order and detachment. The life-affirmative impulse, rooted in the Dionysian,
celebrates existence despite its suffering. Conversely, the life-disaffirmative
impulse, akin to the “last man’s” apathy, recoils from life’s intensity,
seeking solace in stagnation. In Zardoz (1974), the Eternals epitomize this
disaffirmative stance, their immortality rendering them listless and
disconnected, as seen in their aimless debates and psychic distractions. The
Brutals, by contrast, embody a raw, if undeveloped, life-affirmative vitality,
their mortal struggles fueling a primal drive absent in the Vortex. The
destruction of the Tabernacle disrupts the Eternals’ technological stasis,
forcing them to confront mortality and the potential for renewed engagement with
existence, though the film leaves ambiguous whether they fully embrace this
shift.
The Übermensch emerges as a
counterpoint to the Eternals’ apathy, embodying Nietzsche’s vision of the
individual who forges meaning amid nihilism’s ruins. The narrative trajectory
of Zardoz (1974), culminating in the Tabernacle’s destruction, suggests the
potential for such a transcendence to the Übermensch, as the Eternals’
confrontation with mortality disrupts their barren existence presenting the opportunity
for transformation. Yet the film’s ambiguity, evident in their uncertain
embrace of finitude, echoes Nietzsche’s skepticism in Beyond Good and Evil
(1886): “The great question… is whether mankind can attain to that tremendous
surplus of self-mastery.” Today, Zardoz prompts scrutiny of whether
technologies like AI can spur creative renewal or merely perpetuate cycles of
disruption, as the Eternals’ faltering response suggests.
The Eternals’ apathy can be
seen as a manifestation of Nietzschean ressentiment; and this illuminates the
film’s critique of technological decadence. In On the Genealogy of Morality,
Nietzsche describes ressentiment as a “slave morality” that inverts values to
console the powerless. The Eternals’ disdain for the Brutals, coupled with
their languor, mirrors this inversion, their immortality breeding rancor
against life’s dynamism. The collapse of the Tabernacle disrupts this
ressentiment, yet the film’s coda—where the Eternals, alongside Zed and
Consuella, face mortality—suggests a kind of synthesis beyond Nietzsche’s
master-slave dichotomy. This ambiguity invites reflection on whether technology
can foster reconciliation or merely engender new forms of subjugation in an
on-going cycle.
Aesthetically, Zardoz (1974)
employs a surreal visual lexicon to externalize its philosophical concerns, its
phantasmagoric imagery vivifying a dialectical relationship between vitality
and stagnation. Its contemporary relevance is stark: AI and digital networks,
while enabling connectivity and knowledge-accessibility, risk fostering a new
Eternals-like stasis, where human agency succumbs to algorithmic hegemony. One,
in effect, because an immortal slave to human technology and digital knowledge omnipresence.
The film urges us to wield technology as a tool within a process for creative
renewal rather than a conduit for nihilistic retreat and entertainment. Interestingly, Zardoz (1974) points out how this tool, potentially, may even be used to
destroy itself in an act of self-renewing-destruction.
In conclusion, Zardoz (1974) encapsulates Nietzschean themes: the death of God, the Übermensch, eternal recurrence, and the perils of apathy, while offering a prescient critique of technology’s dual nature. The dismantling of Zardoz and the Tabernacle enacts a Nietzschean revolt against facile forms of transcendence, yet the film’s ambiguity prompts contemplation of humanity’s capacity to forge meaning in a technological age. Its philosophical depth and timely warnings render it a vital lens for navigating our entanglement with AI and digital omnipresence.
