I'm wondering, first of all and a little queasily, what, in ten or twenty years, will be the movie that makes "Sunshine" seem smart and entertaining. After sitting in a combination of slack-jawed shock and sheer blistering irritation through this latest and most misguided effort from wonderboys Boyle and Garland, a viewing pal and I dug out "Event Horizon" and "Supernova" (the latter henceforth to be known as "Mace Is Pinbacker, and There Be Boobies, Too"). And, guess what? The two that once seemed chunks of rankest Velveeta now blossomed like the sweetest of Edams next to "Sunshine." Call me old-fashioned, but I like films to be entertaining. I like them to have plots that progress with a semblance of logic. Oh, and I like films that have characters. With character. "Event Horizon" and "Supernova" at least take a shot at those criteria. "Sunshine" places itself above such silliness. Oh, Mr. Garland, what were you thinking...? (After the third draft, let alone the thirty-fourth, you should by now know enough to say to yourself, "This isn't working, is it?") Mr. Boyle: What possessed you to want to film this script...? And all of you in the cast: How high was the bar tab when you signed on the dotted line...? So many reviewers have singed this thing already that I'll focus on a few idiosyncratic annoyances and have done.<br /><br />We're told-- and shown-- throughout "Sunshine" that the sun will burn you to a crisp in less time than it takes to think the phrase "bug zapper," and yet at the end Cillian Murphy's scientist-hippie-savant Capa stands face-to-face with a roiling wall of solar plasma without so much as a blister on his milk-white skin. Of course, earlier he mumbles something about the laws of physics not applying within the sun itself, and I guess he's the expert so he ought to know, but I can't help but wonder silly things like how the sun can burn right through the wall of the bomb housing (which bomb, for some reason, requires a crew of nuts to run it right up to the sun-- I guess there's a real danger of missing a target as tiny as Old Sol) without burning right on through him, too. It burns through him eventually, sure, but not before we're treated to the Obligatory Poetic Destiny Moment. Earlier in the show, another character roars in agony as he roasts alive in direct sunlight; here, now, in the Land of the Big Finale, Capa gets to look all wondering and angelic as the solar breeze flutters his flowing locks. It's as if Danny Boyle took the afternoon off (given the sloppy direction throughout the film, a month or two off wouldn't have been out of line) and flagged Steven Spielberg-- in full golden-glowy schlock mode-- to stand in for him.<br /><br />Another random ranting: Even though the film's makers and supporters yodel to all and sundry about how their marvelous picture-show manages to get by without any aliens or supernatural elements, "Sunshine"'s third-act mystery killer is not only super-duper strong (okay: so maybe toting the admittedly, erm, fine-boned Cillian Murphy around by the throat would realistically call only for "reasonably strong," no "super" or "duper" about it), he's completely immune to wild extremes of heat and cold. He takes a blast of "full sunlight" (the same brand of "full sunlight" that incinerates at least two other characters) without so much as an "Ouch!"; then he removes from their silly huge open vat of cooling liquid the ship's preposterously big computer components and suffers not the least touch of frostbite-- even though frostbite fatally mauls the poor schmuck saddled with the task of re-dunking those components.<br /><br />About halfway through, I started thinking how much fun Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright would have making a parody of "Sunshine." By the end, however, I'd modified the thought in two ways: 1. the Pegg parody would have a beginning, a middle, and an end; action one could follow; and warmth, humor, and heart-- all of which "Sunshine" lacks in spades; and 2. the parody had already begun. Maybe it was a pre-emptive strike on the part of Boyle and Garland, but by the time they were milking for drama the fact that Mr. Murphy had fallen in his spacesuit (note to Mr. Boyle: don't EVER admit that you based a spacesuit design on Kenny from "South Park." Trust me on this.) and-- yes!-- couldn't get up, I burst out laughing. Oh, he's grunting-- he's sweating-- he's making that deeply endearing "Nnnnnnnggghhh--!" sound that signals to fluttery fan-ears and -hearts worldwide that He, Cillian Murphy, Is In Distress-- and it's one of the most cracker-jack funny film moments I've seen in months. Which months in fact included a Pegg parody, "Hot Fuzz." Perhaps Boyle and Garland should hearken to a new calling.<br /><br />'Cause sci-fi certainly isn't their strong suit. Come to think of it, neither is character development. Or pacing. Or middles. Or endings. Or....