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Of
late there has been a shift in interest—specific to films although often
they’re films based on novels—in the realm of plausible science fiction (as
opposed to ludicrous but fun Star Wars
or Star Trek or their ilk).
It’s
certainly true that none of these recent great films—examples such as Gravity, Interstellar, Ex Machina, The
Martian, and Arrival—is confined
to just science, just exploration, just the
plausible. They all must reach, they all must give themselves over to something
to satisfy Hollywood. For a story to work it must have conflict and for a story
to work for Hollywood it must have a conflict of physical (preferably violent)
danger and some asshole somewhere ruining things for everyone else. And the
success of these films in appealing to Hollywood need only be noted in their
fairing in their particular award seasons.
But
still the smarts are there.
Despite
the contrived conflict cop-out, they do enough real science fiction as well in
that they employ research, synthesis, and explanation for far beyond the
expected amount of time in just another exciting flick. Everything could happen, and, with the exception of
Arrival, none of these threats come
in the otherworldly, and with Arrival the alien threat is only a
vessel for the puzzle that entrenches this story as a character piece first, a
linguistic piece second.
Science,
or at least semi-plausible science. Filmmakers are once again exploring the
subtleties of our universe in these and thus saying more about our species as a
result. The cosmos shines the mirror at our little blue orb.
But
why? Where has this resurgence come from?
I’m
old enough, perceptive enough, and creative enough to impose patterns I see on
the layers of art I’ve experienced over the years I’ve lived. The films of the
60s reflected tumult and protest and the Cold War and the death of martyrs and
growing communism and consumerism. The 70s and 80s reflected decadence,
materialism, and an ever-present certainty of a nuclear holocaust. The 90s a
brief glimmer of hope for a coming century and a black exposure of the true
nature of the human spirit, the latter winning out as that hope was shattered
by genocide, ethnic cleansing, and the fall of the Twin Towers. The reign of
democratic oligarchs like Bush II and Harper saw the rise again of protest, of
art inspired by tin tyrants, and this is one thing I look forward to in a
hopefully short Trump administration.
The
films I listed above say something about their time, that is the time in which
they were made. What exactly? What is it about science fiction that employs
vivid realism rather than pure escapism? What’s happening in our world to draw
that out?
A
theme that crosses all of these films is logic and learning attempting to
compete with impending disaster. Smarts finding a way. Brains over brawn. Interstellar, The Martian, and Arrival are
all built around the idea of finding hope for humans (or humanity) after the
damage we have done to ourselves.
We’re
living in a time of nearly unprecedented ignorance, of wilful stupidity, and
of course this is ironically happening while the entirety of human learning
across our whole history is available to all people at all time in all places
and on device that fits in your pocket.
I’m not going to get political nor am I
going to rage against social media. I don’t have to dwell on these to point out
that fundamentalism, xenophobia, rejection of modern science and medicine, and
the inability to question information sources and presentation critically and
thoughtfully (and reasonably!) all show that despite 2017 being the height of
human knowledge and technical advancement, there are those who reject our world
because it’s simply too hard to understand. Decisions don’t come easily when
you let yourself see shades of grey.
Take
the proliferation of zombie apocalypse material in the past decade, for what is
the zombie apocalypse? It’s simplification. It is the stripping away of all
that makes a society complex and real but also hard to understand and makes it
simple. Life is survival: seeking food, water, and shelter. The goals are
obvious and so are the bad guys; there’s no moral ambiguity.
These
greater films show a desperation to appeal to our learning, to advance our
knowledge and to say that life doesn’t have easy decisions, obvious goals, or
obvious bad guys (and I say this in the time of Putin and Trump). What life
does have is opportunity, potential, and a willingness and indeed a need to
evolve, to reject ignorance and simplicity. To be better than stupid.
