Y’know, believe it or not, sci-fi once referred to potentially thought-provoking sociopolitical commentary layered under an imaginary high-tech blanket. There used to be pretty serious points to these films, often of a controversial nature. In fact, one of the reasons that Rod Serling opted to make The Twilight Zone as weird as he did was the fact that he would be able to cloak his Aesop-esque messages in a veil of the unknown. It worked astonishingly well, and serves as a perfect example of how the genre can actually offer quite a bit in terms of serious filmmaking.

But alas, it would seem that the intentions of writers and pioneers like Phillip K. Dick and Isaac Asimov have been tragically lost in a sea of John Woos and Jerry Bruckheimers. Like just about anything else, science fiction has been engulfed, digested, and crapped out by Hollywood.

I recently read an article claiming that nowadays it’s nigh impossible to actually make an intensely thoughtful sci-fi flick. Meaning that unless there’s about half a dozen explosions in the first fifteen minutes, replete with the latest, greatest state of the art CGI aliens, it’s simply not good enough for Hollywood.

I’ll give you a perfect example: I recently took in a viewing of I, Robot, which was, for all intents and purposes, fair at best. I’ve seen better, I’ve seen worse. The effects were solid, but y’know something? After seeing utterly mind-blowing special effects in literally every other movie at the box office (thank God for M. Night Shyamalan), I’ve become more than jaded to Hollywood’s high tech muscles, regardless of how often they are blatantly flaunted.

The film makes an attempt at conveying a serious message. It’s pretty much the same woe that’s illustrated in at least half of all sci-fi romps these days: the threat of man’s over-reliance on technology. Yeah, the robots, while subservient for half the movie, ultimately develop a conscience and go hunting us humans. Been there, done that, Cameron did it better in The Terminator. Fact of the matter is that Asimov’s original book I, Robot, which was a series of short stories (none of which bared any close resemblance to the film’s storylines), was actually a commentary on mankind’s inhumanity. Asimov achieved this by providing us with humans so sleazy and distrustful, that the robots come off as being more civil than us carbon-based life forms. Simple, but effective. But for whatever reason, Hollywood decided to reverse this plot point and doll it up with some big time effects. The end result is another typically “eh” movie that leaves the moviegoer feeling as if the $5 bag of popcorn is half empty as opposed to half full.

Now granted, sometimes even the most sophisticated connoisseur of sci-fi craves a balls-to-the-wall action flick. I mean, hey, I’m totally psyched about Alien Vs. Predator, and the damn thing’s not even rated R. But what I’m trying to say is that the film industry has methodically distilled the genre into a subdivision of action movies, whereas it should stand on its own unique pedestal.

I guess it was inevitable. I mean, in a genre where there are few limits, it only make sense that a lot of people would want to make it larger than life. Things really took a swerve in the 80s following the end of the Star Wars Trilogy (which, for the record, is more science fantasy than science fiction). From there, the public was inundated with big budget sci-fi flicks in rapid succession. The Terminator, Aliens, Predator, Robocop. And those four movies are in just a three year timeframe from ’84 to ’87. And of course, we can’t forget the inevitable sequels, only one of which managed to match if not surpass its predecessor (Terminator 2: Judgment Day). But the rest were made solely to nab a profit, and it’s pretty obvious.

In fact, the concept of sequels is perhaps the worst thing that could ever happen to science fiction. I mean, how can you duplicate something special? It’s not easy to do. Take Escape From New York, for example. At the time (1981), a very original plot with solid action and a definite anti-government undertone. A well-done flick. But it’s sequel, Escape From L.A., might as well have been a carbon copy of the original. In fact, with the exception of the setting, characters, and obvious advances in special effects, it’s the exact same film, I shit you not. And that’s pretty unfortunate.

And if you think sequels are bad enough, remakes are even more stomach churning. Only in Hollywood could the original Planet Of The Apes, which was a surprisingly heavy commentary on all of mankind’s cornerstones: social status, politics, religion, race, nothing was safe. And it was well acted to boot. At the end of the film you felt both proud and guilty to be human. The remake was standard issue schlock, completely devoid of any real purpose other than to showcase Mark Whalberg’s six pack. Over the top, erratic, and sloppy. And don’t even get me started on The Stepford Wives. What was originally a creepily paranoid sci-fi thriller somehow wound up becoming a dark comedy. Huh? Even worse, the plot twist from the original movie (the fact that wives are being replicated into clean cut cookie cutter versions of themselves who are practically perfect in every depraved husband’s eye) is given away in the goddamned commercials! In the original film, all the audience knew was that something was dreadfully amiss in Stepford, and that was it. This would be the equivalent of Alfred Hitchcock letting everyone know that Norman Bates is actually “Mother.” Who greenlighted this project and what are Oscar winners doing in it? I swear, Paramount Pictures must have sprung its collective brain to think this was a good idea. I guess I should be happy that Logan’s Run is being remade by an intelligent and competent filmmaker in Bryan Singer. I guess.

And forget trying to translate a book into film. That’s a tough enough process as it is, but when you’re trying to turn sci-fi literature into sci-fi film, that’s an even bigger gauntlet to tackle. This is why Dune is a literary classic and not a film classic. Sometimes you just can’t make that transition. And when filmmakers do try to make the transition, the end result is, more often than not, so different from the original source that the filmmakers will actually say that the movie was inspired by the book, rather than adapted. Aside from I, Robot, another good example of this is Blade Runner. Now this is one of those funky cases where the movie maintains a certain intellectual charm, as it raises major questions of being (is Deckard a replicant?) and humanity (Roy Batty’s final monologue to Deckard). However, there is so much more in the original source, Dick’s Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?, that to make a truly accurate recreation of the book would be to make an entirely different movie. In addition to the above questions, racism and religion are also among the many, many topics touched upon in this fine book. It’s downright astounding that some of the dialogue in the film is actually taken word-for-word from the book. Some treatments are even triter in their “inspiration.” For example, The Time Machine may as well have been a quasi-original creation that was merely influenced by a prior work (kind of in the way that Apocalypse, Now draws brief, modernized parallels with Conrad’s Heart Of Darkness). Taking all this into account, it’s no surprise that Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park went from a case study in chaos theory to a Spielberg extravaganza.

So where does this leave sci-fi in the world of big budget blockbusters? To be truthful, I’m not sure. I’m not so sure that a movie like 2001: A Space Odyssey could be made nowadays without completely flopping. I mean, recent films that have actually offered the spice of classic sci-fi, replete with serious underlying messages and thought-provoking plotlines (Contact, Minority Report) have been met with lukewarm reactions by both audiences and critics alike. I would like to think that there is still hope for the genre. As I said, it offers so much freedom. The limits are only as strong as the writer allows them to be… In many cases, the creator may even feel free to tamper with the linearity of the world he or she creates. It’s things like this that make pure science fiction a truly marvelous genre. It’s just a pity that Hollywood can’t see that point.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.