Danny Boyle’s Sunshine is an overdue shot in the arm for original science-fiction. With the last decade dominated by underwhelming Star Wars prequels, it’s easy to forget that science-fiction is capable of debating big ideas and influencing how we see ourselves in the universe. Star Wars, and to a lesser extent Star Trek, is a cultural phenomenon on such a scale that it’s effectively a genre unto itself. Nevertheless, lightsabers and Federation jumpsuits have long been accepted as integral to the classic iconography of wider science-fiction. These nerdy associations are perhaps one reason why the genre is so good at repelling the casual viewer. Sunshine focuses upon a manned mission to reignite our own dying Sun with a nuclear payload the size of Manhattan. The film builds upon its overt cinematic influences (namely 2001: A Space Odyssey, Alien and the original Solaris), by blending cutting-edge effects with a screenplay inspired by real science. Boyle and screenwriter Alex Garland, take the day-to-day practicalities of long-haul space travel, and put them front and centre. In the process they present a bid for inclusion in the annals of “serious” sci-fi. The result fuses stunning visuals with multi-stranded tales of obsession, as the characters respond to the power of the star they must reignite.
The film is something of an anomaly, as mainstream cinema has become a hostile environment for original science-fiction. Although the millennium was greeted by space-faring adventures Red Planet and Mission to Mars, both suffered from poor screenplays and an over-reliance on visual-effects. 2000 also gave us Pitch Black, a comparatively low-budget project starring Vin Diesel as the cynical and murderous convict, Riddick. The film sported a head-turning premise, dumping a group of disparate crash-survivors onto a desert-world populated by light-sensitive carnivorous aliens, and then plunging the planet into an extended solar-eclipse. With meagre funds, director David Twohy produced arresting visuals, a gritty tone and a focus on character that was unusual to the genre. The film was a cult-hit and spawned a big-budget but risible sequel; Chronicles of Riddick abandoned the original’s intelligence, leaving only the clichés of excess sported by so many additions to the genre.
Steven Soderbergh’s Solaris, released in 2003, is perhaps the only other post-millennium cinematic release to approach the genre in a truly adult fashion. A remake of the 1972 Russian epic, the film lacks eye-catching visuals, devoting itself instead to an exploration of love, memory and faith, with the science-fiction setting merely a backdrop. However, not even George Clooney’s presence could save the film from box-office disaster. Although the project was undoubtedly let down by uncertain studio marketing, it was also a harsh reminder that multiplex audiences prefer their entertainment a little more light-hearted.
Original science-fiction is as rare on television as it is on the big-screen, ‘originality’ most-often equating to modern takes on established franchises. Star Trek was reborn on television in 1987, with a new crew comprising The Next Generation. Spin-off series Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and eventually Enterprise, soon followed, all updating the franchise for the 90s. Competition to the Star Trek juggernaut came in the form of the grittier Babylon 5 and Farscape, and the teen-friendly Andromeda. In 1997 came the long-running and hugely profitable Stargate SG-1, a reformatted television version of the critically-mauled 1994 science-fiction fantasy, Stargate. Most recently, the 1970s Star Wars rip-off Battlestar Galactica has been stunningly reinvented as a contemporary adult drama with an identity all of its own. The show is perhaps the first attempt in a decade to instill the genre with real adult drama. In its content, it has taken direct inspiration from the uncertain, post-9/11 world, pondering the future of humanity through a long-running story of survival that is a clear allegory for the War on Terror.
Offering long-running characters and settings, as well as often sustained allegorical comments on society, television need not rely on a strong opening weekend to recoup its costs, even if a producer’s enthusiasm is often required to convince the moneymen to have faith in their product finding an audience. In contrast, original cinematic science-fiction must exhibit involving characters, dramatic, fast-paced stories and, ideally, arresting visuals, all within a timeframe rarely longer than two hours. Future visions and space-travel normally require substantial budgets to realise, but this increases the pressure for broad audience appeal; spectacular visuals cannot be targeted at a niche audience. An original hook is also crucial to the genre. A simple but head-turning concept worked for Pitch Black, while for Sunshine, Alex Garland broke new ground in contemporary science-fiction by turning his attention to the Sun. Despite the sudden cancellation of Enterprise in 2005, a new Star Trek film has been confirmed for production, but it remains to be seen whether the studios will continue to support original sci-fi visions.
Danny Boyle’s Sunshine is an overdue shot in the arm for original science-fiction. With the last decade dominated by underwhelming Star Wars prequels, it’s easy to forget that science-fiction is capable of debating big ideas and influencing how we see ourselves in the universe. Star Wars, and to a lesser extent Star Trek, is a cultural phenomenon on such a scale that it’s effectively a genre unto itself. Nevertheless, lightsabers and Federation jumpsuits have long been accepted as integral to the classic iconography of wider science-fiction. These nerdy associations are perhaps one reason why the genre is so good at repelling the casual viewer.
