In terms of motion picture technology, looking back at the 2009 release of District 9 from the perspective of James Cameron’s Avatar is like looking across an abyss. Fortunately not every science fiction movie can (or needs to) look like a Cameron production. However, it’s worth noting how closely District 9 tracks the spirit of many Cameron movies: The Corporation as bogey-man, the revenge of the underdog theme, the relatively weak story-telling, and the way District 9 turns into a bloodbath later in the movie.
 
Comparison to Cameron’s work is not faint praise. That a middling good sci-fi movie of larger scale is made at all in today’s turvy-topsy film industry is already an achievement. That District 9 contains elements, such as gory combat, obviously tailored to appeal to juvenile audiences, and hence have investment appeal to industry money providers is pretty much a given. That Avatar manages to (arguably) transcend a tawdry mélange of such elements, and District 9 (less arguably) does not, well that might indicate the director Neill Blomkamp isn’t up to the same level as Cameron; but District 9 does seem like he might want to be.
 
Not that the average moviegoer cares about which director can do what. (Sci-fi enthusiasts might care.) As science fiction movies go, District 9 is rarely dull. It’s an interesting mix of alien environment, social message, and rock-em-sock-em fighting. The story is basically uncomplicated: An alien spaceship, apparently stranded, brings a benighted group of aliens to Earth. Not knowing what to do with them, they’re put into a camp – that quickly becomes a slum. The alien presence eventually becomes a blight and most people want them moved out of sight. Moving them takes up the bulk of the film.
It would help to have seen other science fiction movies. District 9 uses cues from looks-alike references to many other flicks: The ominous hovering mothership (V or Independence Day); the hideous facial appearance of the aliens (the Predator series); the faux documentary frame (a favorite device of 1950-1980 SF movies). If you don’t have the science-fiction background, much of District 9 may seem strange.
 
Come to think of it, even if you do have the SF background, some of it is strange. Questions that repeatedly tug at consciousness while watching a movie are not a good sign. I’m still bothered by the apparent sophistication of the aliens in contrast with their pathetic relationship to human beings. They are a spacefaring species that arrive over Johannesburg, South Africa in a ship clearly well beyond human technology. They have obviously mastered biological principles to a level beyond ours. They even have superior weaponry. They can also get angry and strike out with overwhelming physical strength. Why do they tolerate the brutish treatment by human beings? The movie provokes the question repeatedly but does not answer it.
 
Perhaps it’s because District 9 is a movie that wants to verify its seriousness by making a statement. It seems to be using the alien’s situation as a stand-in for the repression of former South African Apartheid policies. Certainly it’s meant to be remindful. The emotional core of the movie depends on the viewer taking sides with the aliens against the brutal and stupid prejudices of the humans. The key figure, the only character developed in the movie, is Wikus Van De Merwe (played by first time actor Sharlto Copely) the man in charge of re-locating the alien sequestration camp. His transition from a smiley but blundering and bigoted bureaucrat to a reluctant but effective warrior for the sake of the aliens is pivotal to the story and our emotional involvement. We are meant to discover, as he does, that the “Prawns” (the derogatory name for the aliens) have intelligence, feelings, family, and aspirations – just like us.
 
Some people will get the intended effect. I lost it in a blizzard of blood spray and exploding body parts as the movie ground to an end. I just couldn’t muster enough sympathy for <<>>, who could understand the aliens’ language but knew nothing about them. It was as if he and all other human beings had no curiosity whatsoever. I can imagine that about us and other human beings, but not about frightful aliens with advanced technology.
 
As a story, District 9 has a lot of loose ends; probably more than many people can overlook. Unlike Avatar it doesn’t have the technology (or the budget) to overwhelm the audience with visual detail. In fact, though the story is meant to be mildly positive, the overall effect promotes a grim outlook.    
 
 
SCIENCE SPOILERS
 
A lot of science fiction movies break the rule of commensurate technologies. For example, if a species has the technology to travel faster than light, then it almost certainly has other technologies in communications, robotics, computerization, and so forth at roughly the same level. District 9 breaks a few of these rules, such as having superior hand weapons but apparently no significantly more powerful equivalents aboard the mothership. But District 9 presents something at least as perplexing as a discontinuity in technology – a social-psychological problem.
 
How is it that the aliens can travel the stars, perform feats of biological engineering (in fact, their whole technology is based on ‘juice’, some kind of biological energy source), and operate the necessary economy to produce this stuff with no apparent social structure?
 
We’re also shown that the aliens have emotions and sensitivities. They may not respond to exactly the same kinds of stimuli as humans, but we see they’re aware of inequality of resource allocation, injustice, and cruel behavior. Why is it that they tolerate all of this at the hands of the technologically inferior humans? We’re shown that they have scientists. We see that they have family bonds and friendships. We see that they can get angry at losing the things they value. We even see that they’re capable of throwing humans fifty feet through the air. How is it that over the years they have not organized a resistance?
 
Why bother involving us with the plight of the aliens? If they’re just stand-ins for oppressed peoples, then the looming presences of the mothership or the robotic-human fighting machine don’t fit.
 
It could be said, “Who cares? It’s a movie.” Granted, there’s little time in a single movie to develop an alien culture. District 9 wants to give us a few clues, and let it go at that. Some, including me, think this undercuts the desired impact of the movie. Others won’t even be aware there’s something out of joint; heads roll and that’s good enough.