The Flux Capacitor 10.5.07: Week 3 - Odysseys, Fountains and Games
Posted by Owain J. Brimfield on 10.05.2007
The past, present and future of science fiction - this week we look at the abstract & the unfilmable. Plus, all the latest from the world of SF.
Welcome to "The Flux Capacitor", the column that examines the past, present and future of the science fiction genre. I'm your host, Owain J. Brimfield, and each week I'll be taking a look at films, TV shows and a whole lot more that exemplify a particular theme within SF. We'll see how the sci-fi of yesteryear influenced what we see on our screens today, and take a look ahead to see what may be in store in the months and years to come. Later on I'll also discuss some of the latest SF news and see how it impacts on the genre. For now though, let's get the DeLorean on the road - this week's theme is:
The abstract & the unfilmable
The Past
To be honest, the notion that any particular idea or source material should be construed as unfilmable pretty much defenestrated itself for good when Terry Gilliam (whose contributions to the SF genre are undoubtedly going to be discussed in upcoming weeks) turned in his drug-fuelled epic rendition of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. And yet the belief some things are just too abstract to be adapted for film persists throughout the movie world. It's hard to say whether this fear of a challenge stems from a certainty that the project will not be done justice, or from a conviction that things will just be "too hard" (although I suspect the latter in a lot of cases). Hopefully this week we can knock this idea on the head by looking at past successes in committing the abstract and supposedly "unfilmable" to celluloid, and see if we can draw any hope that similar challenges are not beyond the current generation of filmmakers.
One director who was never a'feared of a challenge was the late Stanley Kubrick, and it probably doesn't take too many guesses to work out which of his films we're going to be looking at here. It is, of course, 2001: A Space Odyssey. One of those films (like Blade Runner) that was met with apathy at the time, but is now considered a true classic, 2001 is an adaptation of the Arthur C. Clarke story of the same name, developed in conjunction with the movie. Although the development of book and movie was heavily intertwined, and the two are mutually reciprocal to a large extent, the novel reads as a highly original and idiosyncratic slice (or should that be "slab") of science fiction, and one can barely imagine how it could have been translated to the screen, not least in such a plausible manner. Kubrick though, the accredited visionary, most definitely found a way. Casting aside perceived notions of what could and could not be done with the filmic medium, Kubrick (with Clarke's assistance) revolutionized the genre and set the bar a whole lot higher for aspiring sci-fi directors. Even if the monkeys aren't that realistic.
It's the film's final extended sequence that forms the focal point in terms of our overview, as astronaut David Bowman passes through the star gate. The death of HAL, the vast monolith floating in the depths of space, the sensory assault of blinding colors that confronts Bowman, the glass smashing, the Star Child gazing over Earth - all iconic images, but by golly if it isn't hard to make sense out of them. I'm not going to devote time to laying out interpretations of 2001's conclusion, as that could take several days - previous interpretations have ranged from Leonard Wheat's hypothesis that HAL is God, to the more widely accepted allegory of conception and rebirth (personally, I'm mostly with the school of thought that views Bowman's own rapid ageing as a metaphor for the ageing and dying of the human race). In terms of depicting abstract science fiction on the screen, no film has provoked as much discussion and varied elucidation, nor has influenced filmmakers of the modern day to such a degree. There's a great quote from Kubrick himself, though, that cuts to the heart of the matter:
"I don't want to spell out a verbal road map for [the film] that every viewer will feel obligated to pursue or else fear he's missed the point."
Brilliant. That, folks, is what sci-fi filmmaking - in fact, filmmaking in general - should be all about. Intelligence, boldness and creative spirit. Unfilmable? Nothing is unfilmable. It just takes someone special to realize that.
The Present
If we're considering abstract SF films, than none in the modern era has proven more divisive than Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain. Here we have a director who has already proven himself as a special talent - his debut feature π was a triumphant, quasi-SF mindbender, encompassing numerology, schizophrenia and militant Hebrews; his sophomore film Requiem for a Dream was one of the most powerful motion pictures of the last ten years. Although rumored for a while to be working on an adaptation of Batman: Year One, Aronofsky's next project would turn out to be simultaneously one of the most critically acclaimed and denigrated science fiction works of the decade.
The Fountain is heavily influenced by 2001, as it follows the love story between Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz in three time periods across the space of a thousand years, taking in Mayan civilizations, immortality, trees of life and some of the most spellbinding visuals ever committed to film (Aronofsky filmed a drop of water in extreme close-up and superimposed all the future scenes over that image, in order to create the necessary chaos of a galaxy falling apart - that, my friends, is ingenuity). In terms of abstraction, the three vaguely related tales press on with relative degrees of normality, with only the overt science fiction moments providing any break with 'reality' as such. However, about twenty five minutes from the film's close, things take a turn for the surreal, as the film interweaves and culminates of each its story arcs in one of the most mesmerizing extended sequences in the history of science fiction. Love it or hate it, understand it or not, the imagery and accompanying soundtrack are utterly captivating - it's a true experience, harking back to 2001's climax but ramping every concept up several notches and taking science fiction to new cinematic worlds. Sure, the film was by no means a success - for every review as positively gushing as the preceding synopsis, there was one deriding it as "science fiction for yoga instructors" or something equally absurd. However, the one thing that no one can question is the film's ambition, scope and pure creativity. At the risk of diverting from the subject into a plain old movie review (hey, what is this, some sort of movie website?), The Fountain is abstract science fiction at its very best. So go watch it.
The Future
Although it's certainly true that filmic techniques have come a vast distance in the past decade, let alone the last century, and it's also a valid point that the influence of modern CGI brings previously unheard-of screen concepts within arm's reach, the killer ingredient is the power of imagination. At the risk of sounding like a camp motivational speaker, the limits of creativity know no bounds. While it seems that the vast majority of the major film studios treat true creative sparks with the same level of courtesy usually reserved for a fresh dog egg deposited carefully on their hallway carpets, it's safe to assume that abstract concepts and hard-sells aren't exactly going to be top of the list when it comes to the greenlight. There are a large number of directors and auteurs out there, though - the names of Christian Volckman, Byung-Chun Min and Kazuaki Kiriya are among those that spring to mind - who, admittedly so far with the assistance of a decent budget, have the capacity to construct elements of striking originality within their works. All they really need is to be given the ball and allowed to run with it. Of course, opportunities like that are few and far between.
Before we overload on thinking in the abstract ourselves though, let's consider a concrete example. Iain M. Banks' The Player of Games has (so rumor tells it) been bouncing around in the form of a film treatment for a good while, but apparently it is frequently balked at by producers and directors alike. Much of Banks' work in his capacity as a sci-fi author would make for fantastic viewing, by the way - Consider Phlebas the big budget space opera, Use of Weapons the dark emotional suspense-a-thon, Excession the intelligent AI thriller; the list goes on. Banks' universe of the Culture is one of immense depth and detail, and the story of Games incorporates gender reassignment, artificial intelligence, torture, sexual deviance and lengthy sections of first-person psychological narrative. The real meat of the plot, though, is the fictional game of Azad, something almost overwhelming in scope - a game played over the course of days by 12,000 people, embodying each player's distinct political and philosophical ideologies and manifesting them over the game boards, with the eventual winner becoming Emperor of Azad. It would take someone really dedicated to bring this to the big screen with the necessary clout. It's a perfect example of the kind of material snubbed by the studios, and it's easy to see why, full of subversive and hard-to-grasp concepts. Science fiction has the capacity to embody countless ideas that are otherwise bereft of a creative channel, and the big screen should be embraced rather than shunned as a potential outlet for supposedly 'unfilmable' SF.
The Infosphere
It looks like Michael Bay will be going forward with a sequel to Transformers. The sequel is targeting a June 26th, 2009 release date.
Apparently the visual effects supervisor on this has stated that he thinks the sequel will improve in leaps and bounds, visually speaking. Which I guess is encouraging, because what is a Michael Bay film if not style over substance? Still, I'm sure this will be as divertingly entertaining as the original.
Mike Vogel (Poseidon) is now the frontrunner to play Captain Kirk on JJ Abrams' upcoming Star Trek prequel. Vogel is working with Abrams on the Cloverfield film as well.
Yet more confirmation that Abrams really is taking the "unknowns" route, which can only be a good thing. I don't think I've actually seen Vogel in anything, but let's hope he can nail Shatner's speech patterns.
Star Trek and Heroes star George Takei has been immortalized by having his name permanently affixed to an asteroid between Mars and Jupiter. (courtesy of StarTrek.com)
How cool that must be, and apparently Takei is thrilled with the honor. Good on him!
Jessica Biel has apparently passed on the role of Wonder Woman in the upcoming Justice League of Americafilm.
As I said last week, a hearty "meh" to Biel. Wasn't Kate Beckinsale rumored for this a while back? I think she'd do a decent job.
Rose McGowan looks like she will likely star in Robert Rodriguez's upcoming remake of Barbarella.
Very intriguing; McGowan seems to be Rodriguez's current muse, so hopefully that chemistry should translate well to the screen for one of the few genuinely promising remakes on the horizon.
And finally…
As always, reader feedback and suggestions are welcome, I respond to everything so just drop me a line. You can also check out my column "The Wonder Years" over at 411 Games. Next week in "The Flux Capacitor" - a classic sci-fi scenario, the 'last man'. Until then - keep watching the skies.
