Fire and Ice

I’d been planning to write about Heinlein’s Citizen of the Galaxy today, but I happened to see the movie Sunshine last night, and as this movie is sci-fi to the max, I thought I’d write about it while it’s still fresh in my mind.

Be forewarned: spoilers below.

The movie is set in the near future. The sun, for reasons that the audience does not (and does not need to) know, has grown dimmer; not enough to kill everyone on the planet as yet, but enough that this will be the near-time outcome. Our heroes are eight astronauts aboard the spaceship Icarus 2 (Icarus 1 having mysteriously disappeared), which is carrying the biggest, baddest nuclear bomb that humanity could put together, with the idea that sending it into the sun will goose our star back into its old output.

It’s a desperate attempt, but it just might work, and our heroes might make it home safely—until they receive a faint distress signal from the missing Icarus 1, and decide on a short diversion to check it out.

The decision to divert is bitterly resisted by at least one member of the crew, the engineer Mace, who states the obvious; that the choice is between rescuing ALL of humanity vs. a few stranded astronauts (besides, how could they still be alive?), and that they should stick strictly to their mission.

But another crewmember points out that Icarus 1 also carried a bomb; and two bombs, two last chances, are better than one. They do divert, which is a mistake; a series of accidents results, compounded with sabotage, and although they manage to launch the bomb, everyone dies.

Well, except for the people back on earth. One of the interesting things about this movie is that even when the audience discovers, at the end, that the mission has been a success – Earth is saved! woo hoo! – it doesn’t matter. The only people we really care about are dead. All politics is local, I’ve heard: all emotion seems to be as well. The salvation of humanity is not enough to make Sunshine a happy film.

One of the two women on board--Cassie—makes this point when she votes against killing a crewmember, even though unless they reduce oxygen consumption by one person’s worth they will not be able to complete their mission. One individual's life against billions?

“I know the argument,” Cassie says. “I know the logic. You're saying you need my vote. I'm saying you can't have it.”

I was also struck by the contrasting themes of fire and ice in the movie; the sun is dimmer, yes, but not that dim: as they approach the orbit of Mercury the astronauts are in constant danger of dying if the ship’s shielding is not aimed just right. The sun becomes a character in this movie; purveyor of annihilation as well as life, and several characters do, indeed, burn to death.

On the other hand, the cold of space is also a danger, and one character dies, frozen, outside the ship.

Another crewmember ends up with a choice of ways to die; he chooses fire.

It’s a haunting movie. I can’t say I enjoyed it, really, but it sticks with you. I have only one criticism, which relates to an unanticipated character who shows up near the end; the insane captain of Icarus 1, who sneaks on board Icarus 2 after the rendezvous.

Our heroes think all the crewmembers of the first ship are dead. They aren’t, and the attacks and sabotage committed by Captain 'totally bonkers' Pinbacker are shot in such a way to suggest something paranormal. He’s crazy, sure – no problem – but why is he filmed so strangely, as if he was some kind of ghost/creature/thing?

Up to that point (and this is late in the film) Sunshine has been the hardest of hard sci-fi. Now it’s -- what? A creepy supernatural horror movie? Huh? Other reviewers have also commented that this sudden side trip into slasher territory was not successful.

I still recommend it. You won’t feel quite the same way about our closest star again.