Editorials
Danny Boyle’s ‘Sunshine’ 18 Years Later – A Shining Example of Cosmic Horror Done Right
While we often take it for granted during the rushed blur of our daily lives, a single glance up at the sky should make it pretty obvious why primitive cultures once worshipped the sun. That’s why it’s no surprise that our nearest star has been a prominent figure in storytelling all the way from Egyptian mythology up to modern-day Superman flicks.
While the sun is usually seen as a symbol of life and hope, our solar dependency has also inspired several stories about the terror of no longer being able to rely on its warmth. When it comes to movies, there’s a certain underrated Sci-Fi flick that expertly explores this specific kind of cosmic horror while also serving as an entertaining dive into the darker side of space travel. Naturally, I’m referring to Danny Boyle’s 2007 thriller Sunshine, which is currently celebrating its 18th anniversary.
For those who haven’t seen it, Sunshine follows an ensemble of astronauts on a desperate mission to reignite our dying sun after a previous attempt failed for mysterious reasons. During their arduous trek to the center of the solar system, the aptly named Icarus II happens upon a distress signal from its ill-fated predecessor. After a narrow vote, the crew decides to investigate the anomaly, embarking on a risky detour that could put the fate of humanity in jeopardy.
Once again directing a script from established genre writer (and now celebrated director) Alex Garland, Sunshine was Danny Boyle’s attempt at revitalizing the psychologically focused science fiction stories of the ’60s and ’70s while also challenging himself within a notoriously difficult genre. Borrowing from classics like 2001: A Space Odyssey and Solaris, the film was meant to explore the human consequences of these scientific breakthroughs rather than the sci-fi spectacle itself.
“At the end of time, a moment will come when just one man remains. Then the moment will pass.”
This focus on the subjective side of the genre also influenced the decision to feature a diverse ensemble cast, with the film bringing together a formidable group of talented thespians to populate the Icarus II. From our physicist protagonist Capa (played by Cillian Murphy in his second collaboration with Boyle after 28 Days Later) to Cliff Curtis’ introspective Dr. Searle, these characters are believable as a desperate group of specialists forced to work together for the greater good. Even the incredibly talented Michelle Yeoh makes an appearance as the crew’s resident botanist, as well as a pre-MCU (but post-Fantastic-Four) Chris Evans.
With the exception of Murphy, which makes sense given Capa’s portrayal as a misunderstood loner, the cast actually lived together before and during production as they immersed themselves in their characters. During this process, the actors benefited from in-depth backstories written by Gia Milinovich, exploring fascinating details like Mace’s (Evans) unspoken romantic feelings for Cassie (Rose Byrne) and expanding on character motivations. To be honest, it’s a shame that many of these elements didn’t really make into the finished picture, as they would have made the crew’s ultimate sacrifice even more impactful.
Of course, I’d argue that the film’s biggest achievement is how it plays with genre expectations, effortlessly transitioning from hard sci-fi to psychological drama and even incorporating slasher elements towards the end of the flick. While it’s not exactly a traditional scary movie, there are undeniable shades of Ridley Scott’s Alien and even a bit of John Carpenter sprinkled throughout the picture, which is why I think it appeals to horror fans.
In fact, the film’s controversial decision to descend into horror during its final act ended up alienating some viewers upon release, but I think it was a brave move that perfectly compliments the script’s musings about nihilism and spirituality. From the antagonist’s sun-induced madness to the bizarre visual filter surrounding his horrific burns (as if the film is suggesting that reality itself is being distorted around Mark Strong’s demented character), there are plenty of elements here that would be right at home in an H.P. Lovecraft story, making Danny Boyle’s Sunshine a quite literal champion of cosmic horror.
“So if you wake up one morning and it’s a particularly beautiful day, you’ll know we made it.”
These existential scares are balanced by hauntingly beautiful moments like Kaneda’s tragic demise and a trippy yet emotional finale. Sunshine also boasts some genuinely iconic sci-fi imagery, with the photography making especially great use of color, often bathing melancholy scenes in an eerie amber glow. Naturally, the movie also contains plenty of “sci-fi porn,” featuring thrilling space walks and futuristic technology that’s often brought to life via optical trickery and clever set design rather than CGI.
The impressive visuals are also boosted by yet another phenomenal score by John Murphy (in his fifth collaboration with Boyle) alongside the electronic music group Underworld. Much like Murphy’s work in 28 Days Later, pieces of Sunshine’s score have found a life of their own in other media as other creators recycled the film’s music for their own purposes. Not only was Adagio in D Minor (also known as The Surface of the Sun) featured in 2009’s Kick-Ass, but it recently showed up in Patty Jenkin’s Wonder Woman 1984, further exemplifying the staying power of this awesome soundtrack.
While some elements of the script don’t quite hold up to scrutiny, like the story’s heavy reliance on plot contrivances and supposedly smart characters acting like spoiled teenagers rather than professional astronauts, I think that there’s an artistry to the experience that mostly makes up for most of these issues. It’s always clear that Boyle is having lots of fun with this unusually large budget, playing around with camera setups and effects in the most imaginative ways possible. This unbridled creativity doesn’t always work, but it results in a film that’s consistently interesting even when it stumbles. It’s also hard to deny the surreal beauty of the flick’s final moments, which I believe are up there with the likes of sci-fi epics like Interstellar and Moon.
Sunshine may not be Danny Boyle’s magnum opus, but I think it’s a shining example of cosmic horror done right and definitely one of my personal favorite entries in the director’s eclectic filmography. As a fan of pulpy sci-fi, I’ve come to accept that minor scientific inaccuracies and flimsy plot points are often irrelevant when dealing with compelling concepts like advanced theoretical physics and metaphysical interpretations of God, and that’s why I’d recommend this ambitious thriller to any fan of existential horror even 18 years later.
Editor’s Note: This article was originally published on June 10, 2022 for the 15th anniversary.
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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