Forbidden Planet rates as landmark in science fiction, carefully staying within "hard" aspects of the genre (science -- not fantasy, ergo nerds will love it) while still playing with imagery and ideas of contemporary 1950s values. Morbius's isolated house is a model of modern design with open spaces that step out into sculpted gardens, a swimming pool, and the ultimate home appliance: Robby the Robot. "A housewife's dream!" exclaims the Captain after lunch and a demonstration of the robot's abilities to synthesize food and disintegrate waste.<br /><br />Also revealing to the 1950s: Fruedian psychology rears its head in the Id explanation, although Morbius dismisses it as an outdated concept. There is a touch of the Pacific war drama in the battle with the invisible monster and life aboard the saucer. Perhaps most timely is the post-atomic fear that Science is the enemy, and arrogant scientists will unwittingly bring down destruction in their blind quest for knowledge.<br /><br />Yet the suburban drama presented by Forbidden Planet seems uniquely fresh in the sci-fi genre. They aren't swashbucklers or heroes, but ordinary sailors crossing the galaxy with a serviceman's crudeness and honesty. The good guys drive the flying saucer, and the aliens are so long gone we don't even know what they looked like -- although their music er-"atmospheric tonalities" by Bebe and Louis Barron are remarkably futuristic today. The views from Morbius' house are truly alien with jagged cliffs and pink bonsais. The interior of the saucer is just this side of Buck Rogers. There's a lot visually to like. Although we get fantastic monsters and robots for the kiddies, Forbidden Planet is a cerebral movie, slow paced and talky. It is working on many levels at once: hard sci-fi against space adventure, philosophical against domestic. <br /><br />There are many suburban touches. In spite of all their space-talk, the soldiers are dressed for the golf course. Morbius' fatal discovery is a humble educational facility, a schoolhouse. The most interesting character is Morbius' daughter Altaira. Having never seen a man she is unashamedly forward to the crew. She's a post-Madonna teen who designs her own space-age clothes and takes every opportunity to change outfits -- imagine Christina Aguilera with a household replicator. Men watching the film might see her as a naive girl in a minidress, but every woman knows there is no such thing as a naive girl in a minidress. Anne Francis deserves better recognition for humiliating the Leut with kisses. Alas we'll never know if she was "working" him as he suspects, since the Captain interrupts and becomes a more interesting target for her attention. She is the character who makes the important change in the film. Shocked that her father compares the dead Doc to the other "embeciles" in his landing party, she turns away from her father, her home, to leave with the sailors for Earth. It's this act of defiance, of maturity, that sends Morbius' Id creature over the edge, allegorically destroying its creator just as it did thousands of centuries earlier to the Krell. <br /><br />Maybe the Krell had teenage daughters too...?