Demon Seed (1977) - Best Of The Big Lots Bargain Bin Busts A Nut

Demon Seed (1977) - Best Of The Big Lots Bargain Bin #2

     Most home electronics possess a proprietary ability to communicate with other pieces manufactured by the same brand.  That means my Blu-ray player, my LED, and my home theater receiver could theoretically be having a conversation amongst themselves without my knowing it.  They could be plotting against me even as I'm typing this.  In fact, I'm pretty sure they are.  I don't think they're planning on raping me to plant the seed of some unholy union between man and machine, but don't be surprised if you come to my place and see a bunch of graying, curmudgeonly little MiniDiscs crawling around.  Technology will fuck you.

AI super-computer, circa 1977.  Note how tiny it is . . .

     Demon Seed (1977) makes that idea literal, and the results are . . . fascinating?  Odd?  Silly?  The movie's narrative conceit is simple:  Proteus IV, an artificial intelligence program (voiced by Robert "tell the insurance companies you mean business" Vaughn) usurps control of the fully automated home in which Susan Harris (Julie Christie) resides.  After successfully trapping Susan in the house and severing her communications with the outside world, Proteus reveals that he wants to conceive a child through her in order to reside in a form humanity will be unable to reject.  Clearly, Proteus has yet to develop an understanding of humanity.

Proteus (center) discusses world domination with a lamp (left)

     Of course, there's a bit more to the narrative than just that, but who really cares?  The real fun of Demon Seed, - for me, at least - is how incredibly anachronistic Hollywood's notion of bleeding edge technology has grown since 1977.  The super computer that represents Proteus' brain (pic above) is massive.  Think about your intelligent personal assistant Siri that lives in your iPhone.  Granted, Siri probably doesn't want to procreate, but she keeps your affairs in order better than you do, and she's small enough to live in your pocket.  Proteus himself is represented by oversized desktop terminals that presumably control the colorful and trippy glorified screen saver that represents his thoughts and moods.  Even the specifics of the fully automated Harris household are quaint, with obtrusive HAL 9000 looking video surveillance cameras scattered throughout the home.  At least the house makes mixed drinks.  Mine doesn't.

Metal snake thing - Demon Seed (1977)

Rubik's Snake (198?)

     The real fun with the tech, though, is seeing just exactly how Proteus perverts the functions of the automated home to his own ends.  As you would probably expect, Proteus is able to mimic Susan's voice.  He's able to control the house's temperature.  He's able to lock doors and shutter windows.  None of that is really surprising, is it?  Well, how about creating and controlling a creepy morphing-metal-snake thingy that kills unwanted household visitors in the basement and looks suspiciously like a Rubik's Snake puzzle?  No?  All right,  I know what you really want to know . . .

Sorry, kids.  This is about as graphic as Susan's impregnation gets.

     How exactly does Proteus go about impregnating Susan?  Sure, I'll cop to having the same prurient interest in seeing the lovely Ms. Christie violated by a desktop computer as you do.  Sadly, the specifics are mostly discreet and tasteful.  Mostly.  Demon Seed treats us to a few fleeting moments of side boob combined with the pervy thrill of voyeurism, but that's about all.  Julie Christie is an Oscar winner, for Pete's sake, and Demon Seed isn't as much of an exploitation movie as its title would lead you to believe.  Besides, one need only seek out a copy of Don't Look Now (1973) to check out Ms. Christie's graphic lovemaking - long rumored to be the real thing - if that's what rubs your rod. 

     Demon Seed is still a lot of fun in its own right, though, and it easily ranks as one the best of my Big Lots Bargain Bin excavations.  Dated presentation aside, it effectively preys upon the pervasive fear of technology run amok, and it does so with more class than you might expect.  Demon Seed is recommended - especially if you can track down a copy for only three bucks. 

     In the meantime, remember not to drop the soap in a shower full of technology . . .