“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 (AI) —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 their
mortality. Despite its somewhat dated aesthetic-cinematic presentation, the film is imbued
with a considerable degree of philosophical depth, the as it 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 existential
torpor. By addressing the enervating effects of artificial intelligence and
digital omnipresence, coupled with an examination of life-extension and
synthetic biological engineering (AL or Artificial Life), 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 previous
transcendental frameworks, thrusting humanity into a meaning-challenging 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 through biosynthetically “regenerating” the bodies of the Eternals
so that physical bodily death is impossible, embodies the god of the “last man,” who “blinks”
and seeks only comfort, security, and the certainty of ever-lasting life. The Eternal's ennui, a consequence of the Tabernacle’s digital omnipotence and omniscience, reflects
Nietzsche’s critique in On the Genealogy of Morality (1887) of cultures “weary
of themselves,” bereft of creative dynamism due to the elimination of,
and control over, the very conditions which challenge humanity and enable human beings to evolve and adapt to their environment. In our current age where
algorithms shape cultural engagement and artificial intelligence risks
supplanting human agency, and where life extending technologies and
biosynthetic engineering is poised to create life or regenerate life indefinitely,
Zardoz (1974) warns against yielding to technological constructs that promise technological
power and control over life 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) for example, Nietzsche contrasts the Dionysian,
marked by vitality, creativity, and an embrace of existence’s chaos, with the
Apollonian, which, when unchecked, leans toward order, rigidity, and
detachment. The life-affirmative impulse, rooted in the Dionysian, celebrates
existence in all of its disorder and chaos, and celebrates the intensity of
involvement and attachment (desire), despite its suffering. Conversely, the
life-disaffirmative impulse, akin to the “last man’s” apathy, recoils from
life’s intensity, seeking solace in certainty and 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’ technologically
induced 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.
In the film, Zed emerges as a figure of the Übermensch, a counterpoint to the Eternals’
apathy, embodying Nietzsche’s vision of the individual who forges meaning amid
nihilism’s life-disaffirmative ruins. The narrative trajectory of Zardoz (1974), culminating in the
Tabernacle’s eventual 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 (1974) prompts scrutiny of whether technologies like AI and AL can spur creative renewal or merely perpetuate cycles of devolution, 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 existential 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 albeit by
today’s standards dated visual lexicon to externalize its philosophical
concerns, its phantasmagoric imagery attempting to vivify a dialectical
relationship between vitality and stagnation. Its contemporary relevance is
stark however: AI and digital networks, while enabling connectivity and
knowledge-accessibility, and AL, while creating opportunities for technologies
of life-extension, risk fostering a new Eternals-like stasis, where human
agency succumbs to an altogether artificial hegemony – a state devoid of the
organic, the spontaneous, and the naturally adaptive (perhaps what could be referred to as the "self-generative.") Humanity, in effect,
becomes immortal and all knowing, but insodoing becomes slave to its own technology and digital omnipotence
and omnipresence. All in all, the film can be taken to mean that we must 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.
To conclude, Zardoz (1974) encapsulates many Nietzschean ideas pertinent to today’s philosophical landscape with respect to AI and AL: 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 an age now dominated by AI and the prospects for AL.