Between Dimensions is a continuing feature that examines science-fiction on the screen in all of its forms: big or small, good or bad.

Bring an overnight bag to your couch. This star trip takes awhile.

Solaris is about first contact and tells its story most authentically. It is sprinkled with tantalizing hints of an incomprehensible alien presence and deftly threaded with some of humanity’s long-standing existential issues. These factors combine to create the conditions that in turn perplex, humble, and threaten the movie’s cast of characters. Be warned however. Solaris is also the ultimate litmus test of a viewer’s attention span. Transformers this is not.

For better or worse, Solaris tells its story (from a novel by the great Russian sci-fi writer, Stanislaw Lem) in almost real time. For better because you are cocooned in layer after layer of allegory and allusion. This style ensures that you are impacted the same way the Solaris’ crew is – frightened by the alien presence, deeply concerned for humanity, and afraid for your own sanity. For worse, because this meticulous layering takes 90 real time minutes. It proceeds with a somnolent rhythm delivered by a stolid Russian cast that will severely test your enthusiasm for wanting to be present at first contact.

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Between Dimensions is a continuing feature that examines science-fiction on the screen in all of its forms: big or small, good or bad.

Cops and Robbers Metaphysicalized with Panache

The recent Bruce Willis film Surrogates reminded me of a French film called Chrysalis. Their shared idea – what makes up our identity – can play out many ways. (All the films based on PKD stories are testament to that). My advice? Just skip Surrogates. Rent Chrysalis. Julien Leclercq has directed a smoothly styled film noir (more correctly, un very slick filme bleu-noire) of French cops searching for the abductors of young women who, as illegal aliens, are highly vulnerable to exploitation. Expertly threaded into this somewhat generic story is a dramatic neurological breakthrough. It gives the film its energy by spinning in and out of the basic cops and crooks with inventiveness and a lot of visual elan.

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District 9
Directed by: Neill Blomkamp
Written by: Neill Blomkamp and Terri Tatchell
Starring: Sharlto Copley, Vanessa Haywood, Johan van Schoor, Nathalie Boltt

First contact. Who thought it would be this messy?

War is hell. And now Neill Blomkamp, the director of District 9, vividly demonstrates that apartheid is also hell. In a blistering, hard-edged blend of science fiction storyline, corporate morals inspired by the Third Reich, and adrenaline spiked action, District 9 does for science fiction what Saving Private Ryan did for war movies. Let me quickly add there is no preaching. Blomkamp doesn’t show and tell. He shows and shows and shows again in a no-respite avalanche of agonized faces, seriously wrecked bodies, and searing emotions.

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This new Star Trek movie. It’s not real. I mean it’s not the real Star Trek. You see, my generation (the boomers if you need to know) owns Star Trek. We saw it first. We saved it from cancellation. And we kept it alive for 79 episodes and six films. So make no mistake. We own it. It’s encrypted with our generational genes. And we never gave it away. We like it the way it is. Don’t even think about doing a tribute movie. We’re the ones who preserved Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock and the crew in amber. And so they cannot be re-imagined, re-invented, re-vivified, or re-interpreted. They can only be rerun.

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Between Dimensions is a continuing feature that examines science-fiction on the screen in all of its forms: big or small, good or bad.

Starman Still Connects… But With Keanu?

As the winter of ‘09 has refused to depart gracefully, some movie time travel seemed a smart avoidance technique. I found myself stopping in 1984 wondering how well Starman would hold up after a quarter-century. I had vague memories of Jeff Bridges acting but nothing more. I’m pleased to say that Starman remains an excellent film. More surprisingly though, it seems to be what fans were expecting from Keanu, Scott Derrickson, and company in their unsatisfying remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still.

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Race to Witch Mountain
Directed by: Andy Fickman
Written by: Matt Lopez and Mark Bomback (screenplay), Matt Lopez (screen story), Alexander Key (book)
Starring: Dwayne Johnson, Carla Gugino, AnnaSophia Robb, Alexander Ludwig

This race runs on two tracks – one wins, one doesn’t.

You really have to watch Race to Witch Mountain with both eyes. One to see the movie that was made for an audience of tweenies. The other to judge the movie against an average director’s competency scale. Somewhat schizophrenic I admit but you know Film Junk always takes the big risks for its readers.

Let me say right up front that I enjoyed both movies but one more than the other. With my one eye, I saw a film that could be enjoyed by anyone from 8 -14. It portrays two ingratiating teens that are both heroes and aliens. (Perhaps someone like that lives with you). A cab driver with the heart of a Boy Scout stands in for their parents. And lots of authority figures blow things up in a mostly frustrating effort to catch them. It’s a typical Disney recipe and for this eye, it works really well.

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Geeks always champion shaky propositions. Their slightly off-center dress code comes to mind. Their wanton mastery of the obscure is another. And of course there’s the subject at hand – Watchmen. In this movie (based on the comic book novel) they try to compensate for their perceived shortage of props by investing philosophical import into an arguably lightweight achievement.

In this case, Alan Moore, the author of the novel did come up with a high concept for an underdog genre. His portrayal of the various Watchmen characters turned the super hero mythos inside out, exposing their assorted afflictions while making them more relevant and compelling. Like all good polemicists, Moore used the emotional anxiety of his times (the Cold War, the fear of nuclear Armageddon) to give his philosophical observations force. And he relentlessly projected a brutish and dismal characterization of humankind throughout the narrative. Is it any wonder his story was enthusiastically adopted by our fringanista friends? When you expose the nastiness of humanity long enough and loud enough, for them it’s a knee-jerk fist-pump (you know what I mean).

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The Day the Earth Stood Still
Directed by: Scott Derrickson
Written by: David Scarpa, Edmund H. North (original)
Starring: Keanu Reeves, Jennifer Connelly, Kathy Bates, Jon Hamm, Jaden Smith, John Cleese

Gort, we hardly knew ye.

To set the mood for The Day the Earth Stood Still, I listened a lot to Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. It didn’t include my favorite Floyd track, “Comfortably Numb”. That sentiment was uncomfortably close to the male lead’s notorious acting style. I wasn’t about to take any chances on tainting my enjoyment of this much-anticipated film.

For those of you who are fans of Robert Wise’s 1951 version with Michael Rennie, you will find much to appreciate here as similar philosophical issues are raised and addressed. What is less successful are the awkward mechanics brought to bear to keep the plot moving. An intriguing premise is mutated by conventional cinematic ploys and the potential for wonderment is lost.

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Between Dimensions is a continuing column about science-fiction and other unearthly matters written by Curt Dwyer.

Sci fi nerds (including yours truly) live with the knowledge that the more alien an alien gets, the more indistinguishable he/she/it will be from a god. In the case of The Day the Earth Stood Still, this plays out badly for Klaatu our planet’s first alien visitor. The humans fearful of his seemingly omniscient abilities, shoot him. Given that Klaatu knows a lot about Earth, I’m surprised he expected anything less.

Seriously though, this gem of a movie from sci fi’s golden age builds from this quantum naiveté to craft a story of honesty, innocence, and hope. It uses its star’s monasterial aura, inspired casting, and quickly paced story to lay out a case for a dramatic change in human behavior. You could call it galactic intervention therapy.

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Between Dimensions is a continuing column about science-fiction and other unearthly matters written by Curt Dwyer.

I had always suspected I was just a step off the main path. The day I found the list confirmed it. Browsing Amazon’s science fiction community, I had drilled down to their top 10 dystopian novels from the last 50 years. I had read them all. No surprise there. But what did it really mean? I was lost in that familiar fugue when Film Junk surfaced. It was an opportunity to review sf movies as well as be editor-at-large on world-tipping issues central to the science fiction genre. So here I am.

I came to science fiction through horror. As a three year old, I was often read bedtime stories. I don’t recall the stories. I do recall the reader. A silver metal strip – bent roughly to approximate a nose – ran down the middle of his face. It was held in place by an elaborate construction of white plaster bandages. Bordered by the bandages were the reader’s eyes – circled by navy blue and deep black skin tones. The reader was my father. He was the goalie for the Georgetown Raiders. Before goalie masks. From these bedtime interludes, I emerged with two passions – hockey and horror.

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