An Incongruence of Metaphysical Properties

Rating: 8/10 (17 July 2014)

Natural forces govern the universe.
Theoretical forces may govern a fictive universe.
Good science fiction attempts to bridge the gap between the two realms. By taking unanswerable questions of physics and applying theoretical possibilities, one may craft a compelling story.
An event horizon, in general relativity, is a boundary in space-time beyond which events cannot affect an outside observer. It is the point of no return.
Event Horizon falls prey to a common error in semi-recent science fiction: A drastic overestimation of our species' developments in space travel. This film is set in 2040, and it's doubtful our explorations will spread to Neptune by then.
But E.H. is best discussed as a horror flick. Judging it as such, I give it eight stars and call it great.
It tells a complex story that, due to production issues, builds on a cracked foundation.
So there are loose threads in the quilt. Most of the fibers are strongly woven with thought provoking ideas.
Profoundly dark musings, mind you; never forget it's smart, but still a horror movie.
A vivisection takes place. Vivisecting, no matter how tasteful the visual conveyance, is never fun.
If you'll allow the limitations set by the technology available in 1997 (in terms of CGI and production design) and can stomach a handful of unsettling scenes, then check it out for some thrills and chills. (It's available to stream instantly through Netflix.)
But if you haven't seen it and are sensitive to spoilers, stop reading.
To continue my introductory discussion, the viewer will buy into a theoretical force if it compels the story forward.
When it comes to Event Horizon, everything's sound until they board the actual ship. The stuff with the magazine centerfold is intelligent and easily acceptable.
Things get shaky once you start to consider the implications of the ship's consciousness.
What's with the ice crystals? Seems like someone fell in love with the term 'corpsicle.'
The filmmakers had two options for explaining the darkness inhabiting (or possessing) the ship. The reappearance of Weir towards the end, when he battles with Miller in the hellish core, is a physical incarnation of the entity.
The nature of that demonic being is what the film's final cut never nailed down. They could either call it Hell (a concrete location defined by religious beliefs, but at least a colloquial construct of reality), or generate their own mythological realm (the parallel dimension governed by chaos.)
Ultimately they don't answer the question.
I don't appreciate incomplete narratives, but I understand production difficulties. I just wish they'd picked a side and stuck with it.
It's simple enough to believe that the Event Horizon passes through this chaotic dimension but the affect it has on the ship requests a distant reach for our brains to continue the suspension of disbelief.
There's a bevy of examples, so I'll list a quick few. One of the main problems is what I call, 'an incongruence of metaphysical properties,' or the misalignment of surreal forces. The quick and easy i.e.? Telepathic abilities don't include clairvoyance.
Actions are governed by motivations, and for the plot to unfold the way it does, it would be according to the ship's mandate. We can assume the ship's all knowing and all-powerful, because it telepathically dissects the crew's memories and locates their fears. Furthermore, it projects hallucinations onto their consciousness.
Even further, it can cause objects to vanish, like Miller's gun. Meaning it can literally manipulate the fabric of existence.
If the ship has the ability to alter reality, its initial antagonism seems unmotivated and inexplicable. Why string along the entire crew through this revelatory process? What does the ship (or the evil entity possessing it) hope to gain through tormenting the individuals?
There's an inconsequential argument to be made here. Perhaps the entity's wish is to let the three crewmembers escape, thereby spreadingwhat, exactly? Hell on Earth? Why does Starck seem to be the only one 'infected' so to speak? The final scene suggests her mind's plagued with the same malady inhibiting Weir's character at the film's open.
Are we to assume events will play out in a similar manner for Starck as they did for Weir? That's impossible; the Event Horizon is half destroyed and returned to Earth. Will she rein terror across the planet?
To pile on top, soon after the film begins, Weir dreams of the corpse floating on the Event Horizon's flight deck. Thereby suggesting clairvoyance.
So you can see how the power imbalances, the inconsistencies between referential frames, and an ending of minimal consequence add up to a deceptively contrived narrative.
What's life going to be like for Justin, after the macabre experience he's been through? It's almost cruel to let him live; disfigured, traumatized, psychotic and likely suicidal. It's thoroughly twisted, but an attempt to defy convention seems the only impetus for retaining that character's life.
The intercepted audio recording is the perfect microcosm for the whole film.
It's creepy and ominous, and a believable mistranslation. I'll even allow the idea that their manner of speech transforms to Latin.
And hey, for fun, let's forego all discussion of computerized auditory scanners.
Who was the message, "Save yourself from Hell," intended for?
And who had the wherewithal, after passing through the chaotic dimension, to broadcast the warning signal?
Oh. I get it.
Once infected, the spread of Hellish dementia's a gradual multi-stepped debilitation.
First comes the transformation of basic speech faculties. After that, the craving for sadomasochistic orgy manifests.
Silly me. It's all coming together now.
Better start rewriting this review.
Although.
Perhaps I've passed the event horizon
(See what I did there?)