Some of the best sci fi is absent of all light. Monsters lurk in corners. Whether real or imaginary, the monsters can sometimes be the most unassuming character(s). The supposed hero turned villain, or the simpleton turned mad genius. Because good science fiction is built on layers. Most often it is built on the old foundations of greater stories, once told and remembered, and now settling into some other storyteller's head; waiting to be retold.



Ron Moore is good at re-tellings. His work on Battlestar Galactica is proof of this. However, the mingling of passed stories, from 2001: A Space Odyssey to Solaris, faulters on Virtuality's turn. For two hours, I failed to feel any sort of compassion for any of the characters. It wasn't until well into the second half, in a scene where two of the dominant female characters, Billie (Kerry Bishe) and Sue (Clea Duvall), connect over memories of sexual assault, that I saw a little integrity.

Virtuality, written by Ronald D. Moore and Michael Taylor, and directed by Peter Berg, is not a complete story. The incomplete lives of every character is layered, one on top of the other until you can barely tell where their real lives end and their virtual lives begin. Commander Pike (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) gets to live out his illicit affair with Rika (Sienna Guillory)---while her husband sits in the same room---until a mysterious virtual villain shows up and shoots them both, postcoital.

Billie lives a double life as a Japanese pop singer, who we later learn is also a secret agent. It's the Mod Squad meets Hannah Montana. She is on the verge of apprehending her imaginary arch-nemesis before the same virtual villain from Commander Pike's and Rika's fantasy-gone-awry, sexually assaults her.

Alice's (Joy Bryant) virtual life consists mostly of a yearning to have a normal life; to be a mother. Her fantasy is invaded by virtual-villain too. And so it begins, with this mysterious character (played with a creepy Norman Bate's-like quality, by Jimmi Simpson). All of this takes place on the eye-candy that is the Phaeton. A state of the art ship complete with tablet-like communicators that look like Iphone's only wider, and virtual screens stolen from Minority Report.

Some parts of the Phaeton are reminiscent of the Biosphere (an experimental ecosystem), while other parts render you speechless at the thought that the crew from Alien could have slept there. The visual quality is as close to a realistic view of life on a spaceship as you can get. Even when the crew slingshots from one destination to the next, the views from the Hull camera's are astonishing and if you could see Virtuality on HD, as realistic as those space shots on NASA TV. Maybe even better.

But the calm that seems to pervade on the outside is only covering the storm brewing within. The voyage of the Phaeton is a long one. Nine and a half years, to be exact. With that comes setbacks. The laundry list of symptoms, from paranoia to dementia and hallucinations read like a bad interraction between drugs and alcohol. Maybe if the crew of the Phaeton had some alcohol they wouldn't be so quick to jump into their Virt-modules with every waking breath.

The Virt-modules have become a sort of umbilical cord...a lifeline to a non-existent comfort zone they all know is crumbling faster than their resolve. Their ship's computer, Jean ( a slightly more human-like version of HAL, only female...and not homicidal), is being overriden by a mysterious programming glitch that eventually takes the life of Commander Pike, who goes from conscious leader to possessed crew-member most likely to kill you in your sleep.

Even so, his death is mourned. Because the crew has become too reliant on faulty leadership; a corporation that promises them safety from an impending environmental catastrophe if they continue to put on a show for 5 billion viewers. It's the REAL WORLD, only creepier.

Commander Pike's weakening mental state (prior to his death), becomes obvious to Dr. Fallon (James D'Arcy). At one point the Commander, dead set on returning home, reminds the crew, " This is not a democracy..." But when an experience in his Virt-Module, in which he is shot to death, falls into the ocean, sails through the sky...and then gets sucked into the vastness of space, changes him...irreparably...he lets the crew have a say on whether or not to continue the mission.

Another meeting ensues. This time, to discuss the possibility of shutting down the Virt-modules for good. Everyone has experienced the glitch and it should make things far worse than they actually are, but Virtuality has only another half-hour in which to complete an already incomplete story. The complete downward spiral that should have rendered the characters at the breaking point where viewers could finally get a glimpse at their true selves, is lost. "Everyone should know the truth. And the truth shall set them free," The Commander says, but what is the truth? What is the point?

After Pike's death, his headset appears mysteriously, and expectedly (for anyone raised on Hitchcock), in Rika's quarters. Dr. Fallon discovers Pike's last words to Rika. "I love you," he says before the outter-airlock door opens. It is obvious that someone on the ship is a murderer, and a lot of intrigued could have ensued, had not the ending come like a smack to the face. Minus the pain. Infact, it was numbing. And not in a good way.

The end of Virtuality leaves you to assume Pike may have been the villain all along. But is it really that simple? Rika steps into Pike's Virt-Module...a scene set-up to look like some sort of revolutionary war. Frank Pike ride's in on a horse, seemingly unaware of Rika until she calls his name. Pike whispers the great allusion...of Alice in Wonderland, down the rabbit hole.

Pike's final message is a question: If you kill a character in a game, is it really murder?

No.

But if you kill a story before it begins, it isn't entertainment.


source : http://www.examiner.com