Sunshine (2007), directed by Danny Boyle of 28 Days Later and Trainspotting fame, is probably the worst movie I have ever seen. No, it is the worst movie I have ever seen. Stop reading now, the rest is spoilers because there is no other way to explain the horror.
First, the plot basis. The sun is about to die, so Earth (all of Earth I suppose ... no commentary on what country, whose initiative, anything like that - essentially, zero context) is sending a giant bomb "the size of Manhattan island" to "restart the sun." There was a previous, seemingly identical mission 7 years ago that failed. This is discussed extensively.
No surprise, immediately after communication with the Earth is interrupted by solar waves (a week early, mind you), they hear the distress signal from the Icarus I original voyage. Since they are only carrying a single payload, they decide to go and get the original payload as well by adjusting their slingshot around Mercury.
Up until this point, it's hokey, but fine. Whatever. I can take it. Someone manually calculates the new trajectory, forgets to adjust the shields. Fine. Idiot, but fine. It's about time something moved the plot along anyway, or this would just be "Apollo 14: to the Sun!" There's an elegant oxygen garden fire, some argument, the forgetful guy goes suicidal. Fine. They link up with Icarus I. Oddly, everything is covered in an inch of literal dust. Ok, a vacuum sealed spaceship is full of dust now and they find the whole ship to be in operational order. This is about where my bent belief systems snap from the strain. Then they find a mass suicide in the main room. Uh, that's just weird, guys. Next, somehow the airlock in between the two ships blows apart and four astronauts have to make a dramatic, suitless space flight back to their ship. Naturally, someone has to stay behind to open the door. Less weird.
Foreshadowing dialogue: "There's no way the airlock broke - someone must have detached the ships manually!" (The dialogue is almost as great as the plot, really). Everyone looks around, pointing fingers and assessing alibis. No one trusts anyone, though luckily there are now few enough people to survive on the available oxygen (see fire, above). Then, while the physicist astronaut asks the ubiquitous ship computer questions, realization comes smashing through. A short take of the amazing, dramatic dialog punctuated by computer pauses:
Icarus (computer) to Capa (astronaut): "Capa, you are in a critical state. There is only enough oxygen left for .. 12 .. hours."
Capa: "Icarus, there is enough O2 left for 19 hours. We calculated this."
I: "No. The crew of .. 5 .. will only survive .. 12 .. hours."
C: "Icarus, there are only 4 crew alive."
I: "No. There are .. 5 .. crew."
C: "Icarus, who are the 5 people in the crew?"
I: "Capa, Cassie, Corazon, Searle, and unknown."
Now, yes, you guessed it. The airlock was indeed detached manually by an INTERSTELLAR PSYCHOKILLER. Yes, I did just say that. After convincing everyone on Icarus I to commit mass-suicide, the INTERSTELLAR PYSCHOKILLER stayed alive in the inch-thick dust, shed all of his skin and decided it was his mission to be the last man alive so that he could speak with G-d. Oh yes, he's not just an INTERSTELLAR PSYCHOKILLER, he is a RELIGIOUS ZEALOT INTERSTELLAR PSYCHOKILLER.
The rest of the plot really is elementary - once you've unleashed RZIT, you just watch people run around and get brutally murdered ... this time, in space.
Somehow, they manage to deliver the payload despite the RZIT and the final scene is a bright sun rising over a wintered Earth, two children making a snowman. Lovely, really.
