A movie I saw over Labor Day Weekend provided me with the inspiration for the newest essay. The film was a science-fiction/comedy. That’s all you really need to know about the creation of this essay.

Word Count: 1180

Getting Small.., Smaller.., Smallest

Two weekends ago I did my yearly volunteer taxi-driving gig for the Telluride Film Festival. Among the selected movies I was able to take in when not doing my driver shift was a comedy titled, “Downsizing.” First off, folks need to know two things: 1. I always enjoy participating in TFF primarily because I love watching movies. All part of my obsession with creating and taking in stories, whether it’s a good novel or short story, selected TV shows (excluding Reality-Based television programs which I despise), or sitting down in a dimly lit movie theatre. 2. Unfortunately, the comedy-themed type motion pictures are about as common at the Telluride Film Festival as Hollywood celebrities who decide they’d prefer to attend the festival as a solo act.

The main crux of “Downsizing” was the various aftermaths of Norwegian scientists discovering a process for reducing people to the size of Barbie-doll versions of themselves. Among the many scenes in the movie I totally loved was a researcher at a symposium early in the film carrying a half filled bag of trash and telling the audience it represented a single parcel of refuse for an entire community of downsized individuals over a three month period. From an over-population perspective, and feeling that we need to use our precious land and resources in a limited manner, this totally made sense. Granted, there are disadvantages to be reduced in size, but this definitely isn’t one of them.

Let’s look at some of the drawbacks. Suppose you did have the capability to reduce yourself to 5” in height? Besides initially giving you this strange feeling of inferiority, there are also one or three other major down sides. You’d better hope when the reduction takes place, you’re miniaturized self first appears in a completely protected environment. Otherwise, that ant you used to so casually squish under foot when you were a giant will corner you. In this case you have two options: 1. Fight your new enemy off with that giant sewing needle or other available resources, or 2. Conclude your “Karma” really sucks, which means you should probably just bend over to kiss your ass goodbye.

Another major drawback to miniaturizing yourself? How about traveling distances you used to consider a minor inconveniences getting from point A. to point B. suddenly becoming arduous expeditions. That ten-mile jaunt when you were a giant-now it’s turned into a multi-day journey. Crossing over from one side of the trail crack to another-miraculously its been transformed into a Grand Canyon sized undertaking. The mud puddle you used to hop across-suddenly it’s become a lake.

Sort of gives new meaning to that airline entrée you complained about right after your last trans-continental flight. Thinking back, that meal was an outright feast? We can definitely conclude that if a miniature you had all that food at their disposal, it’d represent a mountain of sustenance. Enough food to last for at least a month.

Before “Downsizing” ever came into the creative minds of its producers, Hollywood came up with a similar type television show back in the 60s. “Land of the Giants” was a science fiction TV series that chronicled the exploits of a sub-orbital crew and passengers fifteen years into the future. The ship encounters a magnetic space storm-and is suddenly warped onto a mysterious planet where everything is 12 times larger than earth (I hate it when that happens).

The passengers of the Spindrift encounter all sorts of precarious adventures during those fifty-one nail biting episodes of the show, including multiple encounters with a gigantic cat and/or dog (at least to them), various little people being captured by the giants-thus necessitating a risky rescue of one sort or another, and numerous dangerous attempts to get back to earth in one piece.

Although there appeared to be all sorts of ideas for episodes of the show (in my eyes anyway), it only lasted two short-lived seasons (Sept. 1968-March, 1970). We’re being forced to theorize that the program didn’t make it to a third season for a variety of quirky reasons. Possibly it was the implausibly of the spectacle’s entire premise that miniature human beings can confront giants? Maybe it was the fact that they coincidentally ran out of plots right at the same time the powdered donut supply disappeared for the producers in the Land of the Giants executive lounge? Finally, it might have been the fact that the program came to a swell conclusion when the Spindrift didn’t return to earth and everyone still managed to live happily ever after. Enough about Land of the Giants since you really shouldn’t talk too much about the finer things in life-just experience them.

Now the thing that really gets me excited about becoming small are all the advantages that come your way once you miniaturize yourself. Think about it? You need to replace that piece of defective electrical wiring, but can’t do it since the space the wiring skirts through for that light above the tiny reading nook takes a 90-degree bend in direction. Now that you’ve miniaturized, it’s become downright easy to wiggle your way through that tight space to get around the wall shift.

Pulling the job off feels pretty good doesn’t it? All because you’ve perfected the ability to reduce yourself in size.

What about your bothersome brother-in-law? You’ve had to deal with his hijinks for the entire weekend, and now you’re walking into the bathroom just so you don’t have to look at the guy’s ugly mug anymore. You can’t stay in the lavatory for an indefinite length of time without the rest of the family figuring you’ve decided to end it all and slash your wrists. Rather than leave them with the inconvenience of having to clean up the mess you might create, what if you can reduce yourself to the perfect size for squirming through that air duct? Then when the rest of the family knocks on the door, followed by hesitantly opening it up only to notice you’ve disappeared: presto-chango, the interaction problem with Alfred is solved. Having the ability to miniaturize oneself creates all sorts of beautiful applications like this and let’s face it, this is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

Granted there are advantages as well as disadvantages for a person if by some miracle of nature they’re able to reduce themselves in size. Here’s my solution to the benefit/handicap conundrum. Miniaturization does indeed provide you with the resources to solve one particular problem, but at the very same time it leads to the creation of a whole new set of troubles.

What if you could step into a microwave-like chamber, miniaturize yourself to the exact size that will allow you to solve this latest inconvenience you’re up against, then step back into the miniaturization-microwave, hit a switch, and miraculously transform yourself back to your regular (giant) incarnation? Sounds insane doesn’t it? Then again the entire concept of miniaturization sounds kind of off-the-wall to begin with. Sort of like this essay.