I enjoy it because the vastness of its scope is nearly unlimited seeing as how science is a continually developing part of our culture, which means that the boundaries of the genre are as far flung as the reaches of our own universe. The premise of science fiction is that the primary source of creativity lies in some piece of scientific fact that is then toyed with in order to assemble an alternate reality in which a particular set of possibilities seem to be likely. Where problems arise is when creators take an idea that's based in reality with theories to support it then they manipulate it so that it suits the plot they're trying to construct - the notion of taking creative liberties, as it were, is what puts the fiction in science fiction. (The willingness of the audience to suspend their sense of disbelief is key to the success or failure of the effort to try and distort reality as we know it.) This is how we've gotten such amazing pieces of cinema as the 2010 Syfy Movies production Mega Piranha, starring Barry Williams (better known as Greg Brady from "The Brady Bunch") as Bob Grady (because having him play a character named Breg Grady would've been too much of a stretch).
Before I go any further, let me ask the obvious questions: Why? What purpose could better piranha possibly serve mankind? We're talking about fish that are basically swimming razor blades with insatiable appetites that will eat anything they encounter. Are they going to be able to function as personal bodyguards or willingly dip themselves into cornmeal before flipping into a deep fryer? Those are the only situations where I can see a reason to actually pursue this kind of work. It's material like this that has put a black eye onto the sci-fi genre in terms of it being taken seriously, but at the same time modern audiences realize that it's meant to be taken with a grain of salt. Besides, if a movie is labeled as being the "Syfy movie of the week" or is in any way associated with Roger Corman, you can bet dollars to doughnuts that it's going to be a steaming dump of a film.
There are, however, plenty of quality works of science fiction where the plausibility of the scenario being presented is somewhat high. A perfect example of this is Steven Spielberg's Jurassic Park (adapted from Michael Crichton's novel), which is an absolutely brilliant combination of film making and usage of science in developing an amazing yet still believable story.
On the opposite side of the spectrum is a movie that has drawn my ire for two reasons. First and foremost, it is a remake, and we all know exactly how I feel about movie remakes. (Some media outlets are calling it a re-imagining instead of a remake as it isn't directly tied to the previous effort on which it's based. Call it whatever you want - if it swims like a duck, quacks like a duck, and has feathers like a duck, it's probably a duck...) What's worse is that it's a remake of a movie that's already been remade once before (I guess Hollywood doesn't have a limitation on Mulligans). I'm talking about none other than Rise of the Planet of the Apes.
Interestingly, there are two versions of the poster - one making Caesar appear more sinister with the other posing him as a heroic figure |
In the original Planet of the Apes film, a group of astronauts are set to go off in exploration of deep space. After launch, the astronauts remain in a state of suspended animation for several thousand years until their craft crash lands in a body of water on what appears to be an unknown planet with soil that is found to be incapable of sustaining vegetation. They soon discover that there are humans inhabiting the planet but that they exist in a beastly state with no sense of order or culture. As it turns out, apes are the dominant species of the planet and these primates commonly hunt humans, either killing them or using them for slave labor and scientific experimentation. By the end of the film a revelation is uncovered that this planet isn't some alien land but rather a version of Earth that exists in the distant future. It's a classic piece of sci-fi that twisted the idea of man having evolved from apes as well as having taken advantage of growing fears of what could happen if full-scale nuclear war were ever to occur in order to create a desolate vision of the world to come.
The poster for Planet of the Apes (1968) starring Charlton Heston |
Rise of the Planet of the Apes (there should never be that many the's in a movie title) is more akin to Mega Piranha than its forebear in that the origin of the ape uprising it presents lies in scientific testing on primates, specifically that to try and reverse the effects of Alzheimer's disease in humans. The study, performed on a chimpanzee named Caesar, inadvertently creates an ape that develops significantly advanced cognitive abilities. Realizing that he and the rest of his lab-monkey brethren have been held captive and generally mistreated, Caesar leads a revolt against their captors as well as the rest of mankind.
Sounds like a fairly solid basis for a sci-fi Summer blockbuster, doesn't it? I'll admit that in the grand scheme of things the idea of genetically modified chimps attacking the scientists performing tests on them seems more logical than a group of astronauts from the 1970s surviving a several thousand year trip into the future. The point where my ability to suspend disbelief completely evaporates as it relates to Rise of the Planet of the Apes, aside from the idea that James Franco is a brilliant scientist, is the notion that what I assume to be a fairly small group of apes (I'd think it would have to be a relatively small group because: A) California is the setting of the film and last I checked there are no indigenous species of ape in that part of the world, and B) even if Caesar is super-intelligent the idea of him being able to replicate the serum that created him as well as develop the means to deploy it to a larger section of the ape population is ridiculous) is able to overthrow all the governments, all the police forces, and all the military outfits of the entire planet - not to mention all the hunters, gang bangers, and random gun owners out there who would love to stuff and mount the head of a silverback gorilla on the wall of their living room.
Caesar may be a smart monkey, but can he dodge a sniper's bullet? Caesar may be able to do differential calculus, but can he survive sustained battery from artillery and carpet bombings? The nail in Caesar's coffin comes in the form of four words: Navy Seal Team 6.
Keep in mind that I haven't seen the movie, nor do I plan to, and I've already put this many holes into the feasibility of its plot. My reasoning for pointing these things out is that I am fed up with the lack of creativity that Hollywood has expressed over the past few years. That along with the fact that the only films being remade are ones that really don't need to be remade. (There is one film that I do wish would be remade, but will not mention by name since I'm saving it for a future blog entry, because I feel like it could genuinely benefit from current special effects technology which was in its infancy when the film was made.) What was wrong with the original Planet of the Apes, I ask you, that remaking it a second time was a necessity? You wouldn't eat a pizza that you'd already eaten (if you catch my drift) just because it tasted good the first time around, so why would you want to see a movie that's been done (and done well) before?
Studio executives want my money but in cases like this I refuse to give it to them - I cannot justify paying to watch a film that comes across as being this flawed. Originality and ingenuity have taken a back seat to movies that are easily marketed and sold based on the public already being aware of a particular brand or franchise. There are at least 4 more remakes being released this year - Conan the Barbarian, Fright Night, Footloose, and The Thing - with who knows how many more to be released in 2012. Obviously just because something is novel in its approach doesn't automatically mean it's going to be good, but at least it's not a re-hashed product that's had a new coat of paint slapped on it in an effort to dupe audiences into thinking it's any different than what they've already experienced.