To Sunshine’s credit, it never breaks into the excess that characterizes so much horror these days. Though it’s often compared to Event Horizon, Sunshine has nothing like the gore or torture that pervaded that film. Boyle’s use of an unstable, unfocused lens has been criticized, but it’s necessary to keep Sunshine from becoming a simple monster movie. The hazy camera work helps replace the revulsion of classic horror with the fear and claustrophobic confusion that you’d find in an extreme environment that’s breaking down around you.
To be fair to the critics, the antagonist was barely developed, and appeared less as a true villain than as another disaster that happened to befall the crew. The audience never feels his presence as a character, and this is one of the biggest weaknesses that can be ascribed to this intelligent, but slightly schizophrenic film.
In contrast, however, the rest of the crew of the Icarus II was surprisingly well-rendered. In a rare moment of filmmaking, there was no sudden twist that turned a hero into a villain. The audience is allowed and encouraged to side with the whole crew, and to hope for the resolution of their differences and the achievement of their goal… even when this means their ultimate demise.
In closing, we have here a movie in two parts: the first, a sublime, haunting trip through outer and inner space, convincing on both a cosmic and a personal level; the second, the breakdown of that early harmony, a panicked rising action where the psychological constitution of the characters is tested and reconsidered. I’d suggest going for the first half, and enjoying the second half as a corollary. I’m not going to speak for horror buffs, being largely unfamiliar with that demographic, but anyone with a passing interest in speculative fiction, psychological and cosmic suspense, or the power of imagery will find the film worth its inconsistencies.
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