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The year 2025 could appear more futuristic. Perhaps it's the presence of the consonant "f" in "five". However 2026 represents a leap forward, and it's where we currently stand, with each science-fiction-style development – chiefly the widespread adoption of artificial intelligence – appearing bleak, or perhaps more grim. (Doesn't it feel like in a proper dystopia, the brain-numbing corporate-sponsored dehumanizing technology would actually function more effectively?) Did no one warn us about this?

The response, particularly regarding science fiction films made long ago (or occasionally recently) positioned in 2026, is both yes and no. A number of these prophecies are broadly applicable (global catastrophe) but in detail implausible (if humanity is ultimately decimated, we will almost certainly take the ape population alongside us). Some of them are visionary; others just look like bad visual effects. But it's valuable to explore where different directors, from geniuses to grunts, believed we'd be positioned by now in our planet's evolution. So let's take a look at some of the films that have been set in 2026 throughout cinematic history and determine if they have anything to impart.

Doom

Now, this isn't promising. In the universe of the video game adaptation *Doom*, whose 20th anniversary was noted by virtually no one, 2026 is the year that humanity finds a gateway to an ancient city on Mars, where the inhabitants of Earth are able to set up a scientific outpost. Now, the bad stuff – regarding plot and concerning over-the-top film versions of a FPS video game – doesn't really transpire for another 20 years later, so should we do discover a portal to Mars this year, we could gain some time to avert catastrophe. Were we to discover a portal to an ancient Martian city, it's genuinely difficult to determine whether Elon Musk would remain extremely excited to send everyone to Mars or would instantly become disheartened that the discovery wasn't something he personally paid for, allowing him to assert messianic credit for mankind's expansion to the cosmos. That's before we consider the collection of Martian chromosomes and subsequent transformations into horrific creatures. (Once more, this is closer to 2046, distinct from the Wong Kar-wai film.) Overall, *Doom* is (if nothing else) a useful example for the reasons we allow Mars serve as a stretch-goal aspiration for mankind. Be it in John Carpenter's cheap-looking space-western *Ghosts of Mars*, the more grounded science fiction of *Red Planet*, or the new-age spiritualism of *Mission to Mars*, our distant neighbor planet doesn't tend to act as a symbol of hope. If anyone wishes to make that dubious Martian real estate sale, maybe they ought to begin with at least making the fantasy version appear appealing.

The Marvel Dregs

One of the goofiest quirks of the present MCU is the way it handles the multiple global disasters, encompassing a half-decade leap whose occurrences are largely not shown in the films themselves; the movies have turned into a alarm clock perpetually set a few minutes fast – except with minutes, it's annual increments. Consequently, there exists a whole bunch of MCU content that fan sites clarify to be set in 2026. The good ones, like *Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3* and the underappreciated adventure *The Marvels*, occur distant from Earth, and so seem quite detached from any concrete sense of time. But the bad stuff is among the weakest the studio has created: the convoluted and aimless TV show *Secret Invasion* and the Zoom-call debacle of *Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania*. Judging by these examples, we're in for a whole lot of annoying stagnation in 2026, along with the accompanying spin that in truth, this confusing mess happening in front of us is crucial to whatever happens next. More troublingly, in the real world that assertion will likely turn out to be correct.

The Apes Saga Continues

Most of the original five-film *Planet of the Apes* series is set in the further-flung tomorrow of Earth, but the new trilogy that began with 2011’s *Rise of the Planet of the Apes* begins nearer the present, initiating its chronology approximately 2016. So by the time a virus that devastates the majority of Earth’s human population has run its course, and also boosted the intelligence of apes, it’s merely 2026, with additional setbacks for mankind (and victories for apes) to come. The post-credits scene of *Rise*, illustrating how rapidly this virus propagates around the world and taking place around 2019, appears downright eerie in the wake of the actual pandemic that would begin in 2020. By comparison, the movie *Dawn* seems less literal; if you can believe it, we’re now half a decade from the onset of Covid-19, and society, though clearly impacted by the still-spreading virus, was not wiped out, and our technology definitely hasn't been knocked out. Yet this most pessimistic of the quartet of modern *Apes* movies (at least so far!) nonetheless contains a substantial bummer in store, suggesting that the fundamental nature of beings, whatever qualifies as either, will inevitably result in violent conflict, no matter the work of the most well-meaning among us. We’re at the mercy of those who appeal to others’ worst instincts, although those instincts don't represent the majority. Right now, it feels difficult to dispute that, despite the fact that we ought to try.

Metropolis

Easily the best-known portrayal of 2026 in film is from a movie close to celebrating its centennial. Fritz Lang’s iconic silent film *Metropolis* is set in a futuristic city where wealthy industrialists lord over the towers as workers toil underground on the equipment that keep everything running. Affluent city-dweller Freder, scion of the city’s master, has his eyes opened to these massive class divisions when he becomes obsessed with Maria, an subterranean activist who preaches a reconciliation of the two halves of Metropolis. A scientist with more radical plans creates a automaton in her image, hoping to bring the entire Metropolis down in flames. Here, a robot designed to imitate a human isn't a tool of the ruling corporate class, but an entity who desires to see them destroyed; it's one element flipped by reality in a future that in other ways seems to be well on its way. *Metropolis* also envisions a world where technology depends on old-fashioned manual labor, which seems like a perfect union of conservative disdain for “the working class” and corporate zeal for an AI bubble. It has not yet materialized, but it's simple to imagine a somewhat less stylish-looking version of Lang’s city growing with the promise of a return to manufacturing. The trickier, less plausible accomplishment is the ending of the film, where the chasm between the wealthy and the poor is spanned with compassion; not so much with specific policies. Similar to *Dawn of the Planet of the Apes*, the movie advocates coexistence; in contrast to *Dawn*, it seems optimistic about the chance