My Tomorrow War 1

September 12, 2021

One of the classes I am taking at Art Center is Visual Development and Storyboarding.  The teacher is Simon Blankenship, a brilliant artist and legend who did the story boards for amazing projects like Pixar’s Soul and Avengers Infinity War.  This man is in the big leagues and everyone in the Visual Development class is killing themselves just to impress him.

Early August, he started the class on our first fall term assignment.  “To start your assignment, class, you will all watch the Amazon Prime original movie, The Tomorrow War.  This is an over-the-top $200 million extravaganza that showcases everything you are learning about; creature design, aliens, weapon design, futuristic body armor, futuristic fighting machines, explosions, and more explosions.  Your assignment is to watch this, re-imagine it, re-create it with you own twist and style.  You are to story board your approach in a brilliant pitch.  I’ve chosen this movie because its hard to top, but I want you all to try.”

Between August 3rd, and August 6th, I watch The Tomorrow War four times.  The movie description read “The world is stunned when a group of time travelers arrive from the year 2051 to deliver an urgent message:  thirty years in the future, mankind is losing a global war against a deadly alien species.”

The film starred a very hunky Chris Pratt, who gets catapulted into the future to save the human race.  There is mayhem, hoards of vicious alien creatures, humans getting ripped to shreds, bursts of gunfire tearing alien creatures apart, explosions, and as promised, more explosions.  For days, I pondered about what my take on The Tomorrow War should be.  How do I, Valerie Springer, see us overcoming extinction?

Three weeks later, I am sitting in Mr. Blankenship’s Visual Development class and he is reviewing some of his favorite story board projects handed in by the class.  

“This has really great style, and the atmosphere created in these sketches is terrific- and great vehicle design too Peter.”  He compliments my classmate.  Then addressing the class as we wrap up, “I didn’t have enough time in this class to critique all the projects, but really great work class.”

As we are all filing out the door of the class, Mr. Blankenship calls my name.  “Valerie, can you stay for a minute?”

When we are alone in the class, he brings out my story board project of The Tomorrow War and spreads the panels out on the desk.  “Why did you make this so difficult for me?  Are you trying to mock my class?”

“Mr. Blankenship”, I begin to explain. “I took this assignment seriously.  I thought long and hard about the most terrifying monster stalking the human race,” I say, pointing to my boards. “And this is it, its here.”

My story boards showed a horrific future world ravaged by climate change; burnt forests, flooded plains, and barren wastes.  My time travelers from 2051 didn’t arrive asking humanity to pack extra ammunition and jump into the future to kick alien ass and blow stuff up.  In my narrative, they came with a plea for humanity to live more simply, use less, consume less.  The heroes of my story never actually time travel to the future to fight aliens.  They stay in the present and scale back on their lives. They get rid of possessions - clothing, cars, linens and appliances - everything.  They live near work in tiny yurts, bike everywhere, grow their own food, and wear nothing.  The drastic steps taken to fight The Tomorrow War in my storyboard showed people going out into the forests to manage the growth, caring for their streams, wetlands and waterways.  Technology is preserved and continues to advance in hospitals and universities, but in their personal lives, people have learned to live quietly and simply.  The big box stores, the expressways, the oversized tract houses and sprawling suburbs all began to fade away.  Rivers of detergents and manufacturing sludge no longer flow and the Earth begins to heal.

Mr. Blankenship continued to look vexed at what I had turned in.

“You asked me to re-create this with my own style.”  I continue,  “My style is honesty.  The Tomorrow War is not going to be fought against some imaginary alien foe who invades our plant.  The Tomorrow War, My Tomorrow War needs to be fought against what we are doing to ourselves today.  Mr. Blankenship, I’ve fought this Tomorrow War.”

“Ok, I get it.”  Mr. Blankenship stops me.  “Look, this class is about Visual Design for Film and Video.  My responsibility is to teach you how to excite, dazzle and entertain with your drawings.”  Reaching for one of Peter’s boards.  “Look at this, by board number seven, Peter is showing urban centers getting carpet bombed, aliens armadas exploding in the skies, gun fire, car chases… The most exciting thing that happens in your story boards is that your Amish, yurt dwelling nudists learn how to churn butter!”

“They’re actually not Amish.”  I correct him.

“Alright” he grunts.  “Valerie, you are a Walcott scholar, you are one of the best artists in this class, you can draw circles around everyone else here.  You could have killed this assignment.  I should give you a failing grade, but I am going to give you a C+.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Seeing this,” he continues “I would never hire you, and I would never recommend you to anyone for a job.  But lets forget about this.  And from now on, you leave your Ethical, Environmental, Naturist Earth Justice philosophy out of my class and you….”

“Excite,” I cut in. “Dazzle, and entertain.”