Sunshine (a movie review)
It's been a while since I have reviewed a movie on this here blog (it used to be a fairly regular feature, back in the day), so here goes a blurb about the movie Sunshine:
When I first heard the basic plot of the film I must admit that I was a bit skeptical: the Sun is burning out early and a group of astronauts are transporting a gargantuan fusion bomb to the dying star in order to get it going again. Ridiculous? Well, maybe from a scientific point of view, but not any crazier than most science fiction films. In some ways it is more scientifically defendable than killer creatures from space or light-saber wars. Nevertheless, suspension of disbelief is a must when watching the movie. That being said, once the suspension of disbelief is attained and the premise of the movie is accepted, the film becomes a thrilling ride. In fact, I must place Sunshine close to the likes of films like Ridley Scott's Alien or Kubrick's 2001 Space Odyssey. In truth, I think those films are good places to start when meditating on the value of Boyle's new movie because it lies somewhere in between the two. It has both the visceral impact of Alien and the intellectual meditation of the Space Odyssey, but without giving over to either one as completely as the old sci-fi classics. The philosophical ruminations of Danny Boyle (the director, by the way) do not extend to the limits of Kubrick. His thoughts are less obtuse and dense, yet are still quite real. Likewise, he does not seek the full on strobe light panic stricken world of Alien. He lies somewhere in between.
From a merely technical perspective, the film is a masterpiece. The direction, cinematography, special effects, and editing are flawless. Kubrick wrote the book on the agony of a slow pace and Scott did likewise on smoke and lights scares; Boyle has read these books and combined them into one single tome. His pace was perfect. Sometimes the action inched along like a slow motion space walk, and other times it careened maddeningly like a space module rushing towards the earth. His previous experience in 28 Days Later has clearly served him well for those scenes meant to shock and thrill. The tension in the movie, whether slow or fast, was thick and lush. The minimalist electronic soundtrack was also a great choice; combining noise and sound, melody and abstraction, reproducing the empty, beautiful and chaotic nature of outer space with musical space.
Ideologically, Boyle seems to still be obsessed with and torn about human nature. Transpotting was a repulsive and touching picture of man's spiral into himself. The Beach *cringe* attempted to do the same with its hippy, hedonistic, Lord of the Flies scenario. 28 Days later contrasted the mindless horror of the zombies with the calculated cruelty of men. The director is clearly haunted by the contrast between man's actions and motivations with his desires. Whereas his message of "oh wait, we are the monsters" in 28 Days Later, was a bit to obvious; in Sunshine he shows us his worries and thoughts in a much less preachy manner. Here he shows us betrayal and selfishness as the means to an end. The bickering, terrified people become, in a sense, a microcosm of the same human race that they are trying to save. Yet it is not that clear cut. As usual, the director also shows us human love, loyalty and sacrifice. Once again, he creates a scenario where the battle for survival becomes secondary, and saving ourselves from ourselves becomes the main point. Is it possible? And more importantly, is this apparently pyrrhic battle worth it? Boyle does not give us any clear answers on our humanity, but he does use Sunshine to try to throw some light on the issue, if you will forgive my pun.
When I first heard the basic plot of the film I must admit that I was a bit skeptical: the Sun is burning out early and a group of astronauts are transporting a gargantuan fusion bomb to the dying star in order to get it going again. Ridiculous? Well, maybe from a scientific point of view, but not any crazier than most science fiction films. In some ways it is more scientifically defendable than killer creatures from space or light-saber wars. Nevertheless, suspension of disbelief is a must when watching the movie. That being said, once the suspension of disbelief is attained and the premise of the movie is accepted, the film becomes a thrilling ride. In fact, I must place Sunshine close to the likes of films like Ridley Scott's Alien or Kubrick's 2001 Space Odyssey. In truth, I think those films are good places to start when meditating on the value of Boyle's new movie because it lies somewhere in between the two. It has both the visceral impact of Alien and the intellectual meditation of the Space Odyssey, but without giving over to either one as completely as the old sci-fi classics. The philosophical ruminations of Danny Boyle (the director, by the way) do not extend to the limits of Kubrick. His thoughts are less obtuse and dense, yet are still quite real. Likewise, he does not seek the full on strobe light panic stricken world of Alien. He lies somewhere in between.
From a merely technical perspective, the film is a masterpiece. The direction, cinematography, special effects, and editing are flawless. Kubrick wrote the book on the agony of a slow pace and Scott did likewise on smoke and lights scares; Boyle has read these books and combined them into one single tome. His pace was perfect. Sometimes the action inched along like a slow motion space walk, and other times it careened maddeningly like a space module rushing towards the earth. His previous experience in 28 Days Later has clearly served him well for those scenes meant to shock and thrill. The tension in the movie, whether slow or fast, was thick and lush. The minimalist electronic soundtrack was also a great choice; combining noise and sound, melody and abstraction, reproducing the empty, beautiful and chaotic nature of outer space with musical space.
Ideologically, Boyle seems to still be obsessed with and torn about human nature. Transpotting was a repulsive and touching picture of man's spiral into himself. The Beach *cringe* attempted to do the same with its hippy, hedonistic, Lord of the Flies scenario. 28 Days later contrasted the mindless horror of the zombies with the calculated cruelty of men. The director is clearly haunted by the contrast between man's actions and motivations with his desires. Whereas his message of "oh wait, we are the monsters" in 28 Days Later, was a bit to obvious; in Sunshine he shows us his worries and thoughts in a much less preachy manner. Here he shows us betrayal and selfishness as the means to an end. The bickering, terrified people become, in a sense, a microcosm of the same human race that they are trying to save. Yet it is not that clear cut. As usual, the director also shows us human love, loyalty and sacrifice. Once again, he creates a scenario where the battle for survival becomes secondary, and saving ourselves from ourselves becomes the main point. Is it possible? And more importantly, is this apparently pyrrhic battle worth it? Boyle does not give us any clear answers on our humanity, but he does use Sunshine to try to throw some light on the issue, if you will forgive my pun.
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