Editor’s Note: I watched Sunshine this year when I come across a GQ interview of Chris Evans talking about the film. Sunshine is oft talked about in the movie sci-fi realm, but I never took the time to sit down and properly watch it. And when I did, I couldn’t get it out of my mind, visions of the sun inundating me much like it did for the crew. A fantastic film that really gets under your skin, and makes you feel the cosmic dread of it all. So of course I wanted George to watch it.
Have you ever wanted to watch an Alien film but without the aliens? Yeah, probably not – it doesn’t make much sense on the surface. But say you were after that – maybe you’ve finished everything the franchise has to offer, coming out of Alien: Romulus hankering for more – Danny Boyle’s fascinating 2007 sci-fi Sunshine might be just the ticket.
You see, as much as the Alien movies are most remembered for their xenomorphs and mech-suits, gruesome deaths and shocking set pieces, they have also gathered a devout following for much more than just their most iconic moments. The tone, the narratives, the character dynamics are as integral to the success of the series as anything else, and it’s through these that Sunshine emulates this fan-favourite franchise.
Sure, there are no Facehuggers or Chestbursters, yet Sunshine channels plenty of the other elements that make the Alien films so utterly gripping. It is, in almost every other way, a movie befitting of the series – it just doesn’t have the titular extraterrestrials anywhere in sight.
First off, there’s the ensemble. Featuring the likes of Cillian Murphy, Chris Evans, Michelle Yeoh, Rose Byrne, Benedict Wong, Mark Strong (I could go on and on), it has a truly stacked cast that easily holds a candle to the most star-studded line-ups in the Alien series. Much like the collection of heavyweights that make up Ridley Scott’s 1979 original, which boasted the likes of Sigourney Weaver, John Hurt and Tom Skerritt, this eclectic group of characters is brought to life by big hitters who each make their mark from their very introduction.
Through these characters, there are tantalising dynamics littered throughout Sunshine’s runtime, with the confinements of their spaceship forcing them to come together whether they’re friend or foe, and the increasingly treacherous conditions piling pressure upon each of them, pushing them closer and closer to mistrust and madness.
Similar to the looming threat of a xenomorph, the increasingly menacing presence of the sun slowly dials up the strain on our heroes, forcing them to clash over decision-making, get angry over mistakes, and pull apart from their once united front. Watching this initially chummy crew lose faith in and butt heads with one another is fascinating, and often feels reminiscent of Ripley’s conflicts with her crewmates over dilemmas like whether or not to cast out Kane.
For all that the threat of the external force is the biggest anxiety for these characters, it is the internal strain they’re experiencing that really keeps the viewers gripped. In the original Alien, so little screen time is dedicated to said alien – yet the bickering and backstabbing ensures there is never a dull moment. It’s exactly the same in Sunshine, as Murphy’s Robert Capa and Evans’s Mace trade physical blows and the crew vote on whether to execute one of their own for the greater good of their mission. Even when the ‘monster’ itself is off screen, its presence and the effect it has on this group is felt in every narrative beat.
The slow, methodical pace of its storytelling feels reminiscent of Ridley Scott’s original, with Boyle’s willingness to spend minutes at a time with a single character, examining their psyche, diving into their deteriorating mental state, helping to build anxiety levels as effectively as arguments and attacks.
From the very first scene, as Cliff Curtis’s Searle stares almost maniacally into the sun, allowing the brightness to consume his being in a delightful bout of foreshadowing, it becomes clear that this is as much a character study – or multiple character studies – as it is a pulsating sci-fi outfit.
Seeing Capa send an emotional message back home with a tinge of regret, or watching Yeoh’s Corazon risk her life to try and save her beloved oxygen garden, examines the impact that the vast void of space can have on the human mind. Like Lambert losing hope and breaking down in Alien, Sunshine is as much about exploring individuals’ grip on their sanity as it is about whether the ‘monster’, the malignant external force, will destroy them.
Yet that isn’t to say that Sunshine doesn’t also teeter into outright horror on occasion. There’s something very unsettling about the malevolent being that Strong’s Pinbacker becomes in the final act, getting under the skin in a way that’s evocative of the big horror baddies.
Sunshine’s final moments swap out creeping dread for full-on frights, in much the same way that Aliens notches up the drama with its introduction of the Queen, a formidable antagonist that leaves its mark. In many ways, Pinbacker becomes a physical manifestation of the terrifying emptiness of space, much like how the Queen is the physical manifestation of humanity’s fear of losing its alpha status, and he proves just as chilling for our heroes to deal with.
So, if you’re an Alien fan that’s mopped up everything the franchise has to offer, or you’ve come out of Alien: Romulus looking for more of the same, Sunshine will offer you that existential dread you’re looking for. The ensemble, the tone, the tension – it’s an anxiety-inducing ride wrapped up in a beautiful cinematic package, just like Ridley Scott’s 1979 masterpiece or James Cameron’s 1986 follow-up. It took me 17 years to get to my first watch – it’ll be far fewer before I dive into it again.