THE TIME MASTERS. A Classic of French Science Fiction

There is a certain amusing anecdote circulating in film circles about René Laloux, the creator of Fantastic Planet and The Time Masters. In 2000, Laloux was invited to the Krakow Film Festival as a member of the international jury. One of the main awards at that time went to Such a Beautiful Son I Gave Birth To by Marcin Koszałka—a highly controversial documentary capturing the frustrations of a domineering mother vented at her son, who is also the director. At the press conference following the announcement of the verdict, Laloux began to heap praise on Koszałka’s film, singling out for particular acclaim the “brilliantly directed actress who played the mother.

” When he was finally corrected and informed that the film he was so taken with was, in fact, a documentary, the director turned pale. He immediately began calling for the award to be revoked and went so far as to label the documentarian a fascist—truly one of the gravest insults one can hear from a Frenchman. Beyond its obvious entertainment value, this anecdote reveals quite a bit about Laloux and his cinematic sensibility. At first glance, he comes off as a typical Western European naif who didn’t read the festival catalog carefully and fell victim to his own ignorance.

But a deeper look suggests this brief story also illustrates Laloux’s vehement rejection of a nihilistic view of reality—one of the hallmarks of Koszałka’s filmmaking. Perhaps it even reflects a somewhat childlike belief that the world is not doomed, and that humanity—though flawed—does not deserve eternal damnation. Put simply, though not simplistically, this idea runs through Laloux’s two most important animated science fiction films: Fantastic Planet and The Time Masters. Both are adaptations of novels by French writer Pierre Pairault—a Parisian dentist who published under the pseudonym Stefan Wul. Although Laloux held Pairault’s literary work in high regard—he did adapt it for the screen twice—he believed the author had one fundamental flaw: he couldn’t write endings.

“The third act in his novels is always a bit crappy. Either he ran out of time, or he got tired, or maybe just bored,” Laloux bluntly admitted in an interview. So, in adapting both works, Laloux eagerly altered their conclusions—unsurprisingly, in both cases, making them significantly less pessimistic. Yet The Time Masters begins on a rather grim note. Laloux doesn’t hold back, plunging us straight into the action. A vehicle speeds across the desert planet Perdid, carrying Claude and his young son Piel. They are fleeing from a swarm of deadly hornets with a taste for human brains. Suddenly, their vehicle skids and crashes. Trapped and seriously injured, Claude instructs his son to continue on alone, giving him a microphone that will allow him to contact his best friend, Jaffar.

From this point, the narrative splits: we follow the lost Piel wandering the desolate planet, and the adventures of Jaffar’s spaceship crew, who make it their mission to save the orphaned boy. While the plot of The Time Masters is well-constructed and compelling—its central themes being the value of a single life and the freedom of the individual—the film’s real strength lies in its visuals. The entire artistic vision was overseen by Jean Giraud, better known as Mœbius.

The French illustrator—who had previously collaborated with Alejandro Jodorowsky on the Incal comic series—delivered breathtaking designs. Time Masters features truly otherworldly images: surreal humanoid-angelic beings reminiscent of Zdzisław Beksiński’s paintings, massive palaces floating on water, and mysterious, prehistoric creatures populating the planet Perdid. Mœbius’s monumental art is both overwhelming and awe-inspiring, and watching Time Masters inevitably deepens the disappointment over the uncompleted Dune project by Jodorowsky—a legendary production where Giraud’s unique vision was to take center stage.

In France, while Laloux’s film is part of the broader canon of domestic science fiction, it is not especially well known or frequently discussed (the older Fantastic Planet, released nine years earlier, enjoys much greater popularity). Surprisingly, Time Masters became a major phenomenon in… Hungary. There, the film is reportedly watched every year around Christmas, gracing family gatherings during the holiday season. This tradition is likely tied to the fact that Hungary was a minority co-producer of the film—Laloux, aiming to cut production costs, brought in partners from Eastern Europe.

A significant portion of the animation was created at the legendary Pannonia Film Studio, which operated actively until 2015.