When Insultingly-Bad Movie Physics Are OK, and When They Aren't

I really hate it when movies abuse bad science, but I think there are times when it's OK to do so.

For instance: The Force in Star Wars is bad science, because we know that there isn't a Force in the real world. However, up until the midichlorian disaster of 1999, the Force was a completely acceptable phenomenon in the movies. The reason for this is that before Star Wars shows us the Force in action, it gives an explanation that, in the fantasy of the story, is acceptable. Obi-Wan Kenobi sits all of us down and explained what the Force is, and as the story unfolds, the Force is slowly unveiled and its power realized. We are drawn into the concept of the Force, and begin to accept it, even though we know that it can't possibly exist in the real world. We've bought into the premise of the Force, and now when the Force is shown to us again, it's fine.

In the same way, when we see Peter Parker climbing the side of a building, we accept it because the story gave us an explanation - a genetic mutation caused by the bite of a radioactive spider. We know that it wouldn't happen in the real world, but to accept the story and continue watching, we accept the premise. Then, whenever he needs to use his mutant powers to save the day, we already accept that his mutant powers are real.

We have already suspended our disbelief, to steal a concept from Coleridge.

When the movie has already set us up for the need for that suspension on a particular topic, we happily oblige. Whether it's a weird storm in the sky that our plane flies through and traps us in a time warp about to be eaten by the Langoliers, or we jump from twig to twig on the tops of trees because of our spiritual knowledge of Kung Fu, all of these things are acceptable because the movie has established that they are part and parcel to its story - we must accept them or we have no plot.

The problem comes when movies try to do things with science that are not set up beforehand. They are things that could be done *properly* without any negative effect on the story. You are able to create a wormhole in space from one point to another, but you can't do it when a few thousand volts of electricity are hitting your brain? Sure, I can buy that, so long as the electricity isn't of a fatal dosage level. Oh, now it is? Then why aren't you dead? We need that explanation presented in the story (because my super power also allows me to survive enormous electrical surges, duh!) or we have no reason to continue our suspension of disbelief. Something in the story has just shocked us out of that suspension; once that's happened, it's hard for us to get it back.

Also, it does no good to try to fix the problem much later. When Han Solo claims to make the Kessel Run in under 12 parsecs - parsecs being a unit of distance rather than of time - it's unbelievable because those of us who know better have our suspension of disbelief ruined without a clever and immediate explanation. When that explanation must come later (oh, because the Kessel Run requires running dangerously close to a group of black holes, so the closer you can cut to the black holes, the better), it isn't as satisfying. Either the explanation must be immediate, or the reason for the explanation (an inappropriately-chosen term, in this example) should be omitted.

It really wouldn't be that expensive, or difficult, for Hollywood producers to consult with someone with at least reasonable science proficiency before releasing a movie to insure that none of these issues come up - but the point is, most don't care because the % of people who will understand the problem is fairly small. However, as the value of nerdiness increases (which it is doing), that % will increase year by year. They won't be able to ignore the problem forever. Sphere: Related Content