
Trailer

Gotta disagree about the second poster. Slightly better tagline, though. They're both kind of schmaltzy.Duncan Jones wrote:I have always been a fan of science fiction films. In my mind, the golden age of SF cinema was the ‘70s, early ‘80s, when films like Silent Running, Alien, Blade Runner and Outland told human stories in future environments. I’ve always wanted to make a film that felt like it could fit into that canon.
There are unquestionably less of those kind of sci-fi films these days. I don’t know why. I have a theory though: I think over the last couple of decades filmmakers have allowed themselves to become a bit embarrassed by SF’s philosophical side. It’s OK to “geek out” at the cool effects and “oooh” and “ahh” at amazing vistas, but we’re never supposed to take it too seriously. We’ve allowed ourselves to be convinced that SF should be frivolous, for teenage boys. We’re told that the old films, the Outlands and Silent Runnings, were too plaintive, too whiney.
I think that’s ridiculous. People who appreciate science fiction want the best for the world, but they understand that there is an education to be had by investigating the worst of what might happen. That’s why Blade Runner was so brilliant; it used the future to make us look at basic human qualities from a fresh perspective. Empathy. Humanity. How do you define these things? I wanted to address those questions.
Quite a few years ago I read Entering Space by the renowned astronautical engineer, Robert Zubrin. Zubrin put forward a wholly scientific and engaging case for why and how humanity should be colonizing our solar system. It was a nuts-and-bolts approach to space exploration, and took into account the fiscal appetites that would make space colonization attractive in our capitalist world. One of the first steps recommended was to set up a “shake-and-bake” Helium-3 mining facility on the moon to extract fuel for fusion-powered generators.
The book made a real impression on me. I couldn’t help thinking that that first step into space habitation, a step that would be made for profit rather than purely scientific reasons, was a fascinating conflict of interests. Companies by their very nature would seek to extract the maximum amount of raw materials from any endeavor, for a minimum outlay of costs. That’s just good business. But without any locals, without human rights groups or oversight to keep an eye on things, what might a company try to get away with? What might even the most benign, “green” corporation be willing to do? What would they do to a lone, blue-collar caretaker on a base on the far side of the Moon?
These are some of the basic ideas that informed the science fiction setting of MOON, but this belies the root of the film; its human element. MOON is about alienation; it’s about how we anthropomorphize technology; it’s about the paranoia that strikes you when you are in a long distance relationship; and it’s about learning to accept yourself. A lot to take on for a little indie film, but maybe that was the best place to try. It is “only science fiction” after all.
Agreed. He's a much better actor than some of the material he ends up getting attached to.flyonthewall2983 wrote:I'm glad that Sam is getting to stretch his legs more and more as someone else pointed out. I thought he was really superb (especially towards the end) in Assassination Of Jesse James.
Comparing 2001 and Star Wars really doesn't make much sense. They are two entirely different films, byt two entirely different directors with completely different goals. For Lucas, Star Wars was never intended to be high brow, "intelligent" or even based on anything that could be considered plausible by science heads - he really just wanted to create a pulp movie in space. Whatever influence Kubrick may have had on the film, it certainly didn't extend into narrative or thematic territory except in the most general way. If you look at any genre of film, truly compelling original films are always in the minority against more palatable, popular filmmaking. However, I do agree that science fiction films have been particularly ill-served, but I would argue that Star Wars more than 2001 has probably been more influential in getting people seriously interested in the genre. 2001 is certainly a landmark film, but I think it's too often used, and at times unfairly, as the litmus test that all other science fiction films must be held against.flyonthewall2983 wrote:Duncan hits the nail on the head on so many levels with what he said. In thinking about what kind of impact 2001 had at it's time, it took a genre that was largely ignored as an avenue for pure dramatic storytelling and made it into something beyond even that and made it an epic, spiritual journey that changed the landscape of that genre forever. Then Star Wars came out, and it regressed once back oddly enough, despite Stanley's influence on George's vision. I could be simplifying it but that's what I think happened to the sci-fi genre as a means of telling truly compelling dramatic stories.
Bradbury is sorta nuts. Of all the writers assigned the SF tag, he's easily the least "science-fictiony" -- even someone like Kurt Vonnegut is more SF in my opinion. Bradbury - who I love - I think of more as a fantasist, or kind of a poetic sentimentalist. Most of the science in his stuff is usually incidental, and most of the outer space settings are like the last line of that David Berman poem about Asimov, "A Letter from Isaac Asimov to His Wife Janet, Written On His Deathbed":karmajuice wrote:I once heard a definition for science fiction. I think Bradbury might have said it, or maybe Asimov. Anyway, it said that science fiction is anything that documents the struggle between man and technology, how mankind is affected by its discoveries and inventions -- by change, essentially. So, in theory, you could have a science fiction story about the caveman who invented the wheel. Movies like Star Wars are not science fiction at all, but displaced fantasy; it's a story about princesses and monsters and good versus evil. Good science fiction -- real science fiction -- explores the way man reacts morally, politically, socially, economically, personally, psychologically, to change and scientific advances.
Best definition I ever heard for it. Anyway, Moon looks fascinating. I'll definitely be checking this out.
Also, the first poster above, and the trailer, bring to mind Martin Caidin's Marooned.One night, studying an egg tray in my kitchen, that first novel fell together in my mind: apes blowing blood into the air, the robot nymphs dipping their slender metal legs into an ammonia brook.
I began those flights from Earth in plywood space capsules, fleeing to a place Satan could not find. That was my hope. Getting away from the chain letters, fever, rats, and unemployment, away from the dark uncles that strayed over the globe, cutting brake lines and loosening screws.
And as a Jew I asked myself what good are hidden things, and as a Jew I admonished myself for asking. I knew that the best things were hidden, amd all of this was said in a private voice, a cousin to the one I used to speak to pets.
I am writing this under the illumination of an old American stereo. For once I don't want to know the weather forecast. In fact, I can't bear to hear it. The jealousy would kill me before midnight. Perhaps they will make jokes at Doubleday tomorrow. I can imagine an intern asking. "What were his last ten thousand words..."
I want to know too. From my sickbed I've seen cellophane rams shimmering in the yard and cardinals that look like quarts of blood balanced in the branches. The doctor calls them apparitions. Perhaps my last words will be random.
I am so drowsy, here listening to the wild dressage of a housefly, thinking about the loyal robots in my paperbacks. Thinking about the little chalet I would have built for you on Neptune.
A Neptune indiscernible from Vermont.
I wasn't really comparing them. I was trying to convey that in between the time those two films came out, there was a better chance for a film with the intelligence 2001 to be greenlit by the studios. And after the financial success Star Wars, those companies largely avoided that model in favor of the big blockbuster science fiction.Antoine Doinel wrote:Comparing 2001 and Star Wars really doesn't make much sense. They are two entirely different films, byt two entirely different directors with completely different goals. For Lucas, Star Wars was never intended to be high brow, "intelligent" or even based on anything that could be considered plausible by science heads - he really just wanted to create a pulp movie in space. Whatever influence Kubrick may have had on the film, it certainly didn't extend into narrative or thematic territory except in the most general way. If you look at any genre of film, truly compelling original films are always in the minority against more palatable, popular filmmaking. However, I do agree that science fiction films have been particularly ill-served, but I would argue that Star Wars more than 2001 has probably been more influential in getting people seriously interested in the genre. 2001 is certainly a landmark film, but I think it's too often used, and at times unfairly, as the litmus test that all other science fiction films must be held against.flyonthewall2983 wrote:Duncan hits the nail on the head on so many levels with what he said. In thinking about what kind of impact 2001 had at it's time, it took a genre that was largely ignored as an avenue for pure dramatic storytelling and made it into something beyond even that and made it an epic, spiritual journey that changed the landscape of that genre forever. Then Star Wars came out, and it regressed once back oddly enough, despite Stanley's influence on George's vision. I could be simplifying it but that's what I think happened to the sci-fi genre as a means of telling truly compelling dramatic stories.
An excellent observation I hadn't really considered in that way. Thanks for that.Mr_sausage wrote:Anyway, I've always thought 2001's use of technology was incidental: technological developments used simply as a structural parallel to the development of the human organism from a basic lifeform to a transcendental one. The imagery goes full circle, from a scienceless state of primordial infancy to a scienceless state of transcendant infancy, with science as a structural counterpoint in between.
Sounds like another version of Romance, where the landscape and the various allegorical elements are externalizations of certain internal/mental states. Usually you get the pastoral landscape as projection of innocence, and then the landscape outside of that a projection of sin, error, or human evil (a dark wood being for example the tangle of moral confusion) and so on. And the trajectory becomes a fall from the one into the other and then an attempt to become reborn into the previous one, as a kind of represetation of the necessary development of the human mind. Whatever the specifics, Romance narratives usually deal in exactly that kind of externalization of internal issues.karmajuice wrote:I haven't devised a name for it yet; possibly just "space fiction". It pertains to a trend in some works set in outer space, where the setting is used as a metaphor or jump-off point to explore very internal psychological issues, or in some cases more abstract or metaphysical ones. My focus is on psychological (space as mind), but 2001 certainly exists along the fringes of this idea.
Mr_sausage wrote:I've always thought 2001's use of technology was incidental: technological developments used simply as a structural parallel to the development of the human organism from a basic lifeform to a transcendental one.
Good point, but as I said, this development is clearly possible only because of technology. It’s just that technology is abandoned once it’s served its purpose. Rather like in Buddhism, where after you reach the other shore you no longer need the raft.Mr_sausage wrote:The imagery goes full circle, from a scienceless state of primordial infancy to a scienceless state of transcendant infancy, with science as a structural counterpoint in between.
Very true, and its roots are in Romance, and more particularly Romanticism. But I feel like you're casting your net too wide. By no means am I trying to argue that this is a totally unique genre. It's not even a particularly broad one, only a handful of works fit into it, but it's a trend I noticed. It has a variety of (surprisingly consistent) qualities that captured my attention. I think 2001 shares some of these qualities, which is why I mentioned it. I also think this film, Moon, will likely fit the mold as well.Sounds like another version of Romance, where the landscape and the various allegorical elements are externalizations of certain internal/mental states. Usually you get the pastoral landscape as projection of innocence, and then the landscape outside of that a projection of sin, error, or human evil (a dark wood being for example the tangle of moral confusion) and so on. And the trajectory becomes a fall from the one into the other and then an attempt to become reborn into the previous one, as a kind of represetation of the necessary development of the human mind. Whatever the specifics, Romance narratives usually deal in exactly that kind of externalization of internal issues.
Except technology did not make man's evolution possible: a giant monolith did. Kubrick chose to show our resulting development through a corresponding development in technology, but he did not actually make technology the causal element.Ishmael wrote:Mr_sausage wrote:I've always thought 2001's use of technology was incidental: technological developments used simply as a structural parallel to the development of the human organism from a basic lifeform to a transcendental one.
I would argue that techology is fundamental to 2001’s story. Technology is what makes man’s evolution possible. That’s always seemed to me to be the point of the bone/spaceship (actually a nuclear warhead) cut. The apes are going to die out because they can’t defend their watering hole and don’t eat the tapirs. They realize how to use the bone, now they can do both. That ability to aggresively solve challenges through the use of increasingly complex tools carries mankind through many years of evolution until it reaches the technologically advanced but spiritually stagnant state we see in the second part of the film.
The role of science is still more arbitrary than you're admitting. The essential thrust of the narrative is the reaching of certain stages (the various monoliths) that indicate human's have reached corresponding stages in their own development: it's a series of tasks that represent our progress. Kubrick chose to show us reaching these tasks by means of technology, but A. it could easily have been some other element in the narrative that aided these steps towards transcendance, the choice is quite arbitrary; and B. the actual science is incidental in the story. There is a reason Kubrick can pull off that huge jump cut: the scientific and technological details are unimportant. All you need to know is that the progress of human evolution is being strung, narratively, along the trajectory of technology. Details like the uncovering of the monolith on the moon, the construction of the Jupiter space-ship and Hal, that sort of thing, are glossed over because they are inconsequential, whereas if science had been the main thematic issue they surely would have been important.Ishmael wrote:Good point, but as I said, this development is clearly possible only because of technology. It’s just that technology is abandoned once it’s served its purpose. Rather like in Buddhism, where after you reach the other shore you no longer need the raft.Mr_sausage wrote:The imagery goes full circle, from a scienceless state of primordial infancy to a scienceless state of transcendant infancy, with science as a structural counterpoint in between.
I wasn't trying to argue anything with you, it's just that the process sounds a lot like certain other generic process and I figured I'd point it out. I have no interest in disagreeing with you. But you're being unfair in your understanding of what I said. You accuse me of casting my net too wide, but the genre of Romance is itself a very wide catagory; and I was specifying what elements, narrative and structural, I thought followed the pattern set up by Romance (and I'm not talking about Romanticism, which is a specific 19th century derivation of the much older literary genre of Romance). I think you've mistaken me for saying that the genre of fantasy (Dungeons and Dragons stuff) and the genre of Sci-Fi are the same thing because I'm lax in my definitions. What I actually think is that both the fantasy genre and the Sci-Fi genre are likely subsections of a much larger genre called Romance, a genre that includes the Arthurian legends, the tales of Apollonius, Spenser's Faery Queen, the aforementioned Lord of the Rings, ect. That's not to say Science-Fiction is not a unique development; rather, that it likely shares more with non-scientific fantasy narrative than is often assumed. But I don't want to press the point since this is speculation and you no doubt know far more about Science Fiction that I do. It was just an observation on my part.karmajuice wrote:Very true, and its roots are in Romance, and more particularly Romanticism. But I feel like you're casting your net too wide. By no means am I trying to argue that this is a totally unique genre. It's not even a particularly broad one, only a handful of works fit into it, but it's a trend I noticed. It has a variety of (surprisingly consistent) qualities that captured my attention. I think 2001 shares some of these qualities, which is why I mentioned it. I also think this film, Moon, will likely fit the mold as well.
I don't want to get into a debate fussing over genre definitions, because the edges are too blurred. My point is that this genre of "space fiction" is distinct enough, for me, to merit independent consideration. One must be more specific than, "This is all Romance!" if one wants to study something. In my opinion, saying science fiction and fantasy are the same thing is like saying film noir and gangster films are the same thing. You can call them all crime films, but you can't define them solely by that term.
The above description perfectly decribes the work of Phil K Dick (if you haven't already dug him).karmajuice wrote:I've actually been thinking about another space sub-genre recently, which I would distinguish from both fantasy and sci-fi (though it contains elements of both). I haven't devised a name for it yet; possibly just "space fiction". It pertains to a trend in some works set in outer space, where the setting is used as a metaphor or jump-off point to explore very internal psychological issues, or in some cases more abstract or metaphysical ones. My focus is on psychological (space as mind), but 2001 certainly exists along the fringes of this idea.