Sun­shine and the exis­ten­tial dilem­ma of space travel

This year marks half a cen­tu­ry since man first land­ed on the moon, but on the hori­zon is a new era of space trav­el. NASA has announced that from 2020 the Inter­na­tion­al Space Sta­tion will be a new des­ti­na­tion for tourists who have exhaust­ed every oth­er insta­gram­ma­ble spot on Earth. But should we be wary of this next giant leap in humanity’s upward jour­ney? Explor­ing celes­tial notions of human evo­lu­tion and devel­op­ment, Dan­ny Boyle’s 2007 sci-fi thriller Sun­shine shows the beau­ti­ful and dan­ger­ous pos­si­bil­i­ties of space trav­el in the year 2057.

The film intro­duces space trav­el as a method of sur­vival as eight astro­nauts embark on a mis­sion to re-ignite the sun. As the des­ti­na­tion of the Icarus II ship, the sun comes to rep­re­sent more than just a life-giv­ing source: it is a sym­bol of hope; a shin­ing light in the dark­ness. Yet just as the Greek myth of Icarus tells, we learn that the orig­i­nal Icarus ship stopped fly­ing. The Icarus II ship suf­fers a sim­i­lar fate. As the ship slow­ly begins to break apart, so does the com­mu­ni­ty on board. Moments of sheer pan­ic and may­hem ensue as the crew scram­bles to replen­ish their oxy­gen sup­ply and races against the clock to ensure the ship’s air­lock is secured. From humanity’s per­spec­tive, space trav­el is instru­men­tal to Earth’s sur­vival, the only avail­able option to solve the issue of extinc­tion. But it comes at a price.

One set­ting with­in the film that is emblem­at­ic of the rela­tion­ship between human­i­ty and space is the Icarus II’s obser­va­tion deck. The area con­sists of a floor-to-ceil­ing win­dow through which the crew can gaze out at the solar sys­tem. The views are tru­ly spec­tac­u­lar, and the char­ac­ters derive a dis­tinct plea­sure from star­ing into the vast­ness of space. It seduces them com­plete­ly, leav­ing them awe-struck at the nev­er-end­ing expanse of the galaxy. From the deck they are able to see the future of their explo­ration, and this is effec­tive­ly what NASA is promis­ing with its space tourism initiative.

As the film unfolds, dis­cus­sions of moral­i­ty come to the fore. The Icarus II crew are repeat­ed­ly asked to con­sid­er the val­ue of human life. Cap­tur­ing the exis­ten­tial dread of try­ing to pro­long one’s own exis­tence, the film reveals the cost of sci­en­tif­ic and human progress. Cen­tral to this is a debate around men­tal endurance, and as the Icarus II con­tin­ues to move for­ward, the crew find them­selves butting heads with con­flict­ing atti­tudes. Unable to escape the enclosed con­fines of the ship, the enor­mi­ty of out­er space becomes a cru­el jux­ta­po­si­tion to the claus­tro­pho­bia they expe­ri­ence. With­out home com­forts or a sense of ground­ing, they are left alone with each oth­er and their thoughts.

This desire to ven­ture forth and make new dis­cov­er­ies took seed long before Neil Arm­strong took the first human steps on the moon. Sun­shine sim­ply extends this adven­tur­ous spir­it. Among the film’s bleak­er scenes, there are moments of opti­mism which speak to the pow­er of the human spir­it. While the film pro­pos­es space trav­el as a per­ilous but log­i­cal next step in human evo­lu­tion, it repeat­ed­ly draws our atten­tion to the deter­mi­na­tion and for­mi­da­ble strength of the crew. Human­i­ty may seem minus­cule in com­par­i­son to the grandeur of space, but cru­cial­ly Boyle and screen­writer Alex Gar­land empha­sise the impor­tance of feel­ing present in the universe.

One line from the film that best sum­maris­es the rela­tion­ship between human­i­ty and space comes from Cliff Cur­tis’ Sear­le: ​“We’re only star­dust.” The notion of there being an intrin­sic con­nec­tion between human beings and the wider uni­verse is woven into Sunshine’s nar­ra­tive fibre. In 38 years, NASA’s goal of democ­ra­tis­ing space trav­el may have been achieved. Per­haps even on a lev­el as advanced to car­ry out the chal­leng­ing jour­ney that is rep­re­sent­ed in Sun­shine. But one thing remains cer­tain: peo­ple will always be fas­ci­nat­ed with the stars, even when they are among them.