It’s been nearly sixty years since the movie Fantastic Voyage, starring Raquel Welch and Stephen Boyd, was released. It is a story of a miniaturized submarine with a medical crew that is injected into a Soviet scientist to save his life. World peace might hang in the balance. Lately, there is talk about an updated version of this sci-fi hit, to be helmed by James Cameron. Having written several articles and books on the biological sciences, I am truly intrigued by the idea of seeing a newer version of this movie. If re-done in earnest, meaning the science is modernized and the plot is reasonably believable, the film could be hugely educational and very exciting. 

And, it could truly be a fantastic voyage. For much has changed in sixty years.

The old movie mostly dealt with the brain, lung, heart, blood vessels (all at the tissue level) and a few scattered cells; the new movie, in my opinion, will have to deal in detail with cells and their inner workings. Not to do so would be like telling the story of New York City from a 300-mile elevation.

Walking, Talking, Thinking

The human body is a walking, talking, thinking biological factory composed of trillions of microscopic, biological factories (cells), each of which houses yet-smaller factories that are managed by nano-machines. Take the inner workings of a watch and multiply that in complexity by a trillion. Or more. Our bodies have a nearly silent, industrial hum going on at all times, 24/7. It is mostly geared toward the survival of each individual and, ultimately, continuing the tribe. 

In the 1966 version of the movie, Dr. Jan Benes, the escaped Soviet scientist, is knocked unconscious by terrorists via a motor vehicle accident. In the intensive care unit, Benes is in critical condition with an inoperable, life-threatening clot in his brain. Desperate measures are needed, but realistic medical treatments are not yet known. Miniaturizing a medical team might be the only solution. And in this fictional reality, that, of course, was an option available in 1966.

Twice Daily with Water 

Dr. Benes is the only person in the world who can help the U.S. Department of Defense miniaturize troops and equipment for long periods so that huge numbers of fighting forces and equipment can be transported anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice. An entire army, with tanks, missiles, even aircraft and ships, could fit into a plastic pill box carried inside a tourist’s pocket. (Take twice daily with water.)

So far, the DOD has only been able to make their miniaturized combatants last for an hour. Not nearly enough time to cross an ocean. Presumably, the Soviets have their plastic pill boxes ready to go.

In the 1960s, doctors didn’t have clot busters (i.e., injectable clot-dissolving medications) as we do now. Or, long, flexible catheters that can be fed up an artery to suck up a clot. They also didn’t have computers or long-distance face-to-face communication. That is especially evident from how the crew houses scrolls of paper in round slots on board the submarine to plan their travels (like ancient sailors) and uses Morse code to communicate with headquarters rather than Zoom. 

In a last-ditch effort to save Benes, the nuclear submarine Proteus, with a small crew of movie celebrities, is quickly shrunk to the size of a common microbe. But they only have exactly 60 minutes to get in, destroy the clot with a laser, and get out. At 61 minutes, the submarine with all the crew will expand to normal size. A very gruesome, Alien-like thought. To make things more exciting, of course, someone has claustrophobia, plus there’s a Cold War saboteur on board. 

The submarine looks more like a miniature Captain Nemo’s Nautilus than the real deal and it travels through the scientist’s body as if on a ride at Disney World, weaving through kelp and old confetti. They go off track during some rough travels and have to reroute. Time is soon running out. At one point, they need to recoup some oxygen from the man’s lungs. All subs, you know, carry extraction hoses in their front hood. The dangers seemed realistic in 1966, but they are rather naïve in light of current knowledge. For one, the white blood cells that attack the submarine look more like used cotton balls that somehow can eat submarines. At one point they have to fight off an attack by antibodies that look like sticky Christmas tinsel. The scenes of the inside of a human body will appear acceptable to many people who have never traveled inside a person’s body. 

The Sub-Sub-Microscopic Level

Surely the new plot will be similar to the old one. Instead of this critically injured scientist, however, they might use the President of the country. Let’s say, he has an incapacitating genetic disease, instead of a clot. Correcting that requires a greater microscopic dive, thus more shrinkage. That is, to the sub-sub-microscopic level. The problem has to be fixed at the chromosome (genetic) level inside a stem cell. Snip, snip, replace a few very important chemical (DNA) groupings, delicately. 

The cell might look like a huge fortress. To get inside it, the submarine will have to slip in through a loading dock or get sucked in with the water system. An alarm of some sort will go off. From there, the sub needs to reach the nucleus of the cell, a giant convoluted sphere somewhere near the center. After finding its way through a pore, it must find the correct chromosome among 23 pairs. Unlike in textbooks, none carry labels or numbers.

The sub will pass by a myriad of different kinds of nano-machines that can be seen pulling or pushing a variety of items (garbage, nourishment, energy packets, equipment, supplies, genetic instructions) along highways that are laid down, taken up, and moved as needed. Many of these machines have “walking feet” which scientists can now actually see. Many tiny factories make thousands of different proteins. Rather than simply floating about and with luck finding the right place to land, complex communication systems guide interactions.

Defenders of the body, in the new version, might be realistic white cells, not cotton balls, that look like amoebae, with attack proteins that look like tangled skeins of wool that can totally change shapes. In barely an instant, these proteins can wrap themselves around an intruder like a spider wraps its prey. And/or nanobots can attack the intruders with an incredible arsenal of weapons, such as grenades loaded with dissolving acid or poison-tipped spears. For fun, a nano-bulldozer can drag the submarine to a pit full of digestive enzymes.

The nucleus, monstrous and centrally located, is the cell’s headquarters, the command post, the reproductive control center, library, decision room, and war room. Here are 23 pairs of twisted chromosomes, with coded instructions for the cell as well as for the life of that person. Everything, or anyway a great deal, that happens is guided by genetic coding in the chromosomes. For purposes of reproduction, moving machines split the helical structures apart at lightning speed and then seal them back up with complementary partners. Machines also unravel DNA tangles and correct errors in a blink. Or, a snip.

Forethought at Every Step

DNA has the “recipes” to make a large number of variable enzymes, that in turn make the DNA. It’s a who-came-first chicken-or-egg phenomenon. The chromosomes tell RNA helical structures (couriers) how to make, where and when to make different proteins. There may be 30,000 or more types of proteins. It’s complexity upon complexity with seeming forethought at every step. All very impressive. The crew in the sub will come upon machines that help unzip DNA, again at lightning speeds, copy instructions for making proteins, and pass them on to messengers (RNA). There are machines that untangle chromosomes and correct errors. Throughout, there are power plants. Everything has a purpose; everything is following instructions, and everything can change in an instant, based on needs. The work is coordinated with the requirements of the cell and ultimately, that of the whole body, these needs being constantly adjusted. At times, it may seem as if every cell in our body is sentient.

There is a single comment in the old film about how incredible the human body is and how it must have been made by a Creator, Also, one comment to the contrary, from another crew member who disputes Creation, and says there was enough time, billions of years, for all this to have happened by evolution (essentially meaning by fortuitous accidents of nature).

The complexity upon complexity upon complexity within the human structure is beyond wonder. It outdoes that of the world’s tallest building, the Burj Khalifa, standing at 2,722 feet and with 154 general floors and 9 maintenance floors, in Dubai. There is more information in the chromosomes in one cell than in all the works in the Library of Congress. If only we could actually make that deep inner dive. It would truly be fantastic. Sign me up. I want to go.