Sometimes I wish Hollywood would leave science fiction alone… that the powers that be would forget the little corner of the fiction world called “science fiction” exists, focusing instead on, I don’t know, gangster movies or something.

Gangsters, Hollywood does well. Science fiction? Not so much.

Sure, there have been great science fiction films out of Hollywood; films so bold in vision and execution they have become landmarks in the annals of cinema, remarkable examples of what the medium can accomplish. None who gaze upon the bleak landscapes of Ridley Scott’s Bladerunner can easily forget the gritty streets and dour incandescent lights. The moral questions of an underrated film like Gattaca become more relevant with each passing day. And never before has there been a merging of sound and vision like that in Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece, 2001: A Space Odyssey, one of the greatest films ever created.

Yet bold visions such as these are few and far between where the box office is king. Not because there is little potential in the genre; far from it. Science fiction literature (sometimes call “speculative fiction,” or SF, by ardent fans) has very quietly explored aspects of the human condition in ways “realistic” fiction simply can’t… big questions about the nature of humanity, our place in the universe, and why we are here. Small questions, too, of privacy, of government intrusion, of civil rights, and more. Science fiction has the freedom to explore these issues in ways straight fiction is incapable of doing, because the very nature of science fiction affords a greater degree of flexibility in telling one’s story.

Lest we forget, George Orwell’s classic 1984 is, at its core, a science fiction novel. So is Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-five (along with most of his other work). George R. Stewart’s Earth Abides grapples with what truly lies between man’s tribal roots and civilization; Arthur C. Clarke routinely calls into question the benefits of organized religion and examines humankind’s full potential as a people; Ray Bradbury explores the subtle side of human relations with a grace few authors can muster; and on and on.

But if we know science fiction only through Hollywood, we are led to believe it is a genre best characterized by spaceships, killer aliens and action heroes.

No doubt Vin Diesel is a swell guy, but Riddick is the last person science fiction needs as a genre poster boy.

The fact that the biggest name in science fiction cinema has inspired a virtual cult surrounding his bombastic, often empty-headed (but undeniably fun) films doesn’t help.

I’m speaking of George Lucas, of course. And as much fun as Star Wars is, judging the genre based on its lightsabers and Jedi Knights would be like judging a rock band based on the drummer’s hair. (Thank you, Stephen Malkmus).

Just how good, how alive, how utterly human can science fiction be? Here’s a dirty little secret that is likely to piss off some film enthusiasts: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a science fiction film.

Really.
It is.

Take that film and turn it into a novel. It becomes a book that could easily slip into the bibliography of Philip K. Dick, the mad genius of science fiction literature one critic called “the Franz Kakfa of the second half of the 20th Century.”

So yeah, science fiction can be good. And rich. And compelling. And human.

But Hollywood seems to ignore this. Laser guns and creatures sell. Thought-provoking ideas do not. Woe be the science fiction story that is too thoughtful – Hollywood will rip out its guts and boil it down to the action essentials. The aforementioned Philip K. Dick is a perfect example of this process in action. One of the great geniuses of literature over the last 50 years, Dick penned dozens of novels and scores of short stories that explore paranoia, religion, insanity, the nature of reality, what it means to truly be free, faith – issues that are remarkably relevant in the highly technological 21st Century world.

Scott’s Bladerunner aside (based on Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep), Hollywood has managed to fish Total Recall, Paycheck and Minority Report from Dick’s short story work.

A career of frantic ideas has given us one true classic, a B-film with Arnold, a C-film with Ben Affleck, and a good (if action heavy) effort by Spielberg.

If Hollywood can’t do better than that, leave the damn genre alone.

Hollywood doesn’t deserve science fiction. The genre can be filled with explosions and battles and adventure, yes, but it also has the potential to be smart, thought-provoking and downright vital.

But lord knows Hollywood tries to avoid doing smart, thought-provoking and vital.

Instead we get the dumbed-down flavor of the week, laden with special effects but devoid of heart or intellect.

Science fiction deserves better than that.