I walk a mile in the shoes of every book character I’ve ever read – through apocalyptic San Francisco, the swamps of Area X and post-war Ilium. I put myself through the decisions of science fiction heroes. If I’m lucky, it’ll change my perspective in some way. I think it makes me smarter.
So, I breathe in science fiction like air in my lungs. I have been admittedly biased in the belief that the book is always better than the movie, but I also know that there are rare exceptions. I decided to review the film adaptations of three of my favorite sci-fi books, specifically focusing on subgenres that are challenging to translate in cinema: “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” (1968), “Annihilation” (2018) and “Slaughterhouse-Five” (1969).
Blade Runner and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
Philip K. Dick’s “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” (1968) is a member of the dystopian science-fiction subgenre, and in my eyes, one of the most creative early depictions of the relationship between humans and artificial intelligence. The novel explores the quintessential sci-fi question of “What if?” What happens after a global nuclear war? How do we replace a resulting fragmented, decaying population?
“Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” is a polarizing novel. When I first read it in high school English, we were a class divided.
Dick includes a dizzying number of imaginative concepts all born from post-world destruction, which can be alienating for readers expecting a unified theme. While I can admit that this weakens the novel’s momentum and impact on readers, I think that at the same time, the amount of different possibilities he presents makes it more contemplative. I was left considering the implications of our world, dominated by heightening political conflict and the rapid development of generative AI.
The novel has resulted in several loose adaptations: the most popular being “Blade Runner” (1982) and “Blade Runner 2049” (2017). The 1982 film takes several plot liberties but keeps many of the same themes.
The film had mixed reviews upon its theatrical release. It's easy to miss its significance upon a first watch. It boasts a neo-noir style that was less prevalent in the novel, which I initially found odd, but later appreciated. The film blends genres just as the novel blends imaginative concepts–both are captivating avenues.
In my opinion, the acting and dialogue are the most powerful, particularly in Harrison Ford’s portrayal of the protagonist Rick Deckard. His character writing and line delivery were well established. The set design also maintains a level of mystery and technology that is necessary for a noir apocalyptic science fiction piece.
Upon my first viewing of "Blade Runner," I felt that it didn't live up to the novel; my mind was changed on my second watch when I was determined to stay impartial. I think both productions are equally elevated, and both are definitely worth watching.
Annihilation
Jeff VanderMeer’s “Annihilation” (2014) is an environmental horror sci-fi novel centered around a biodiverse region in the United States that is one day conquered by a mysterious natural force, which begins altering (or mimicking) the environment. The Southern Reach, a secret department of the U.S. government, sends in research teams that seldom return. The novel follows a mission comprised of four women, each with distinct purposes in the group – a psychologist, a biologist (the protagonist), a surveyor and an anthropologist.
I’ll omit the major spoilers. In the novel, the unnamed biologist is the “obsessed artist” of ecology. She finds herself more fulfilled by nature than human connection, which ultimately harms her limited relationships with those around her. She is subsequently motivated to join the Southern Reach for two reasons: her passion and her husband, who made a miraculous return from a previous expedition in Area X but returned dazed and devoid of personality.
“Annihilation” is my favorite science fiction novel of all time, one that I'd recommend to any reader. Its main strength is its writing style. VanderMeer’s tone creates a visceral feeling of uncertainty, highlighting two of the major themes: isolation and environmental mimicry. It raises the question to both the reader and narrator alike: are things really what they seem?
Alex Garland’s “Annihilation” (2018) boasts Natalie Portman as the biologist, named Lena. The film diverges from many major aspects of the novel, most notably Lena’s motivation for signing up for the trip. Garland also strays away from parts of the plot, which I’ll admit disappointed me, though I can understand why. The book trails through different locations in Area X in the same way that a wilderness expedition would, which is lengthy to translate into film.
I think the script writing and dialogue were insincere. Lena lacked emotional depth–very little of her motivations or inner dialogue came through. However, the cinematography and special effects almost made up for that. Cinematographer Rob Hardy upheld the mystery and wonder of the natural evolution that occurs in the territory. Accompanying that is the bone-chilling score, created by Ben Salisbury and Geoff Barrow. Hardy, Salisbury and Barrow were presented with the task of translating a complicated synthesis – environmental, horror and science fiction–and achieved it with terrifying accuracy. To me, it’s by far the strongest point of the adaptation; it’s a masterclass in showing, not telling.
The environment is beautifully translated, but the script is not. “Annihilation” (2018) is one of my favorite visual adaptations of a science-fiction novel; it just missed the mark on character-building.
Slaughterhouse-Five
Kurt Vonnegut’s “Slaughterhouse-Five” (1969) is a satirical science-fiction novel that might ring a bell for an English student, which means it has both die-hard fans and disbelievers. My first time reading it, I was a first-semester freshman in college taking a science-fiction themed ENGL 102 that only confirmed my devotion to the genre, so I naturally fell into the first category.
Arguably, the most thoroughly praised theme of the novel is its exploration of the lasting consequences of war exposure. Vonnegut takes a creative approach to exposing post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Aliens kidnap protagonist Billy Pilgrim and teach him the nonlinearity of time; Pilgrim loses control of his life's linearity and becomes involuntarily thrown into random periods of life.
However, what I really treasure is its technical conceptualization of time. Vonnegut argues that time is a structure that is both inevitable and multi-dimensional – it has always existed and will always exist, albeit in random order. Picture your life as a painting. Do you see it in pointillism style, each dot a predetermined moment you will experience? Or, do you see it as an unfinished canvas, each brushstroke impacted by every diverging choice you make – Schrödinger's cat on a paint palette? He invites you to question your own absurdism.
George Roy Hill’s “Slaughterhouse-Five” seeks to recreate the book’s strategic irregularity to a surgical degree, and while I think that was the most logical course of action, Hill couldn’t fully pull it off.
To show that Pilgrim is thrown outside of the confines of linearity, the film splices scenes in random order. I’ll acknowledge that the film had genuinely earnest efforts to identically replicate the story. I don’t see any other way in which this could have been executed without fundamentally altering the source material, but seeing it in visual form was jarring. The majority of the cast were able to bring life to the characters, particularly Pilgrim’s fellow prisoner of war Edgar Derby, portrayed by Eugene Roche.
To me, the hardest part of the watch was Michael Sack’s portrayal of Billy Pilgrim. In the book, he is depicted as a man both shattered by his war trauma and made eccentric from alien captivity. But in the film, Pilgrim simply appears dazed – it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling beyond lackluster bewilderment. In candor, he almost seems creepy.
There's nothing criminal about the adaptation of “Slaughterhouse-Five,” yet some things can only be conveyed in a book. So it goes.
Science fiction isn’t devoid of its flaws. There is a delicate balance of what works and what doesn’t. To me, the idea of combining human nature with imaginative, sometimes ridiculous speculations of the future solidifies it as the most creative and effective genre of literature. In film, it’s evidently difficult to successfully adapt a sci-fi script into a blockbuster film, but not impossible (case in point, “2001: A Space Odyssey”).
I think that all of these movies are worth a watch and a critical eye. But read the books first!
