Books Science Fiction Two Plot-Friendly Approaches to Generation Ships When it comes to governing a generation ship, do you prefer the Watsonian or Doylist strategy? By James Davis Nicoll | Published on May 11, 2026 Art by Rick Guidice (Credit: ARC / NASA) Comment 1 Share New Share Art by Rick Guidice (Credit: ARC / NASA) You may not worry about the best way to govern generation ships, but I do1. Because I often read SF novels about generation ships (and have written about various approaches to telling stories set on generation ships over the years)—as you may not. But if this is your territory, read on. Generation ships, by definition, take enough time to get from one star system to another that whole generations will live and die during the voyage. Will their governing systems keep on working over such extended voyages? Human history teaches us (or at least some of us) that governments and their societies can fail catastrophically. Thus the marked lack of Hittites on the UN Security Council, not to mention the absence of the Harappans in the G8. Societal collapse can be devastating; there are estimates that populations fell by half or more in the regions affected by the Late Bronze Age Collapse. That’s on Earth, where people can at least count on the air to be breathable2 and where possible refugia are just a desperate march or sail away. Generation ships traverse barren gulfs. No resources, no refuge. They are more isolated than any previous human culture. Societal collapse will probably ensure extinction. So: I recently realized that there are at least two ways in which authors can configure plot-friendly settings. One is Watsonian (from the perspective of the characters). One is Doylist (from the perspective of the author). Watsonian While the motivation for boarding a generation ship can vary wildly from “what a cool thing to do!” to “those men with the bayonets were very insistent I get on board,” likely most people on generation ships want to live long and happy (at least, as happy as possible under the circumstances) lives. They hope the vessel and their descendants will reach their destination. They will want to live under a government that maximizes happiness and sustainability, one that will be able to weather foreseen and unforeseen challenges. The goal here is not to have a perfect government. Rather, it is to have one whose failure modes are not collapses, because a collapse is a death sentence. Failing that, you probably want a government whose average intervals between collapses is at least twice as long as the duration of the journey3. There are at least two ways to tackle the problem. The first is to embrace some novel, idealistic approach crafted with great thought to suit the unprecedented situation. The second is to turn to history to see if this is a solved problem4. Mix and combine to taste. Wait, no. There is a third solution, which is ignore the issue and hope for the best. Good luck with that. As previously stated, I have thought about this a lot. My conclusion is that the best form of government under these circumstances is the sort that doesn’t suddenly implode, whereas the worst is the sort that does. The rest is mere detail. Doylist It is a truth universally acknowledged that the worst enemy of a protagonist is likely to be their author. The primary goal for an author is an interesting story. “Interesting story” and “protagonist’s happiness and well-being” are sets that do overlap… but not by much. In fact, they overlap so little you might need a powerful visual assistive device to spot the overlap. From the author’s point of view, the best form of government for a generation ship is the one that facilitates the story they want to tell. Does the author want to highlight the ability of a government based on Society of Friends protocols to deal with trying circumstances? In that case, expect a government in which Quakers or Quaker analogs calmly discuss things until they reach a consensus5. Does the author want a state of tension between officers and mutinous crew to complicate first contact with intelligent carnivorous plants? Expect high-handed command staff little interested in feedback from the rank and file. Does the author want the protagonist to discover that everything they know is wrong, and that the ship is not the whole universe? Expect government by ignorant, doctrinaire fools. Does the author want to force on the three protagonists the need to visit ship section after ship section in weekly episodes, questing for the knowledge needed to prevent the semi-derelict ship from flying into a star? Expect a total lack of government, thanks to an ill-timed catastrophe. Does the author want to write cozy mysteries? Then the government will be largely functional and onstage just enough to sufficiently establish that there is a desirable normalcy which the protagonist’s keen insight can restore. Synthesis While Watsonian and Doylist reasoning may seem unrelated or even opposed, they are united by the author’s need to avoid breaking the reader’s suspension of disbelief. Humans being humans, the ship’s government seems certain to make some bad decisions. Those bad decisions need to be ones that readers will believe those characters and societies could plausibly make under their particular circumstances. Otherwise, readers and reviewers will mutter phrases like “idiot plot” and “Dorothy Heydt’s Eight Deadly Words.” How best to do that? Well, that is for each individual author to solve. Tackling problems like the above are why authors are paid the big bucks6.[end-mark] No, people don’t usually sit next to me on the train. Why do you ask? ︎Unless we’re talking Iceland from June 1783 to February 1784, in which case you, the Icelander of the past, are SOL. ︎My reasoning is that it’s very unlikely that even the most habitable of exoplanets will allow the travellers to disembark as soon as they arrive. Therefore, the generation ship may have to be home for some time after they arrive. Extended pre-collapse period necessary. At least there will probably be some resources in the new system on which the colonists can draw. Best outcome: the generation ship can make sustainable orbital habitats. ︎For some reason, characters who embark on generation ships all seem to share the quality of never having read or viewed any work set on a generation ship. Hence they often repeat mistakes seen in previous generation ship stories. ︎I own many SF novels extoling the virtues of libertarianism. I cannot think of one that is set on a generation ship. I wonder why… ︎Most authors are not, in fact, paid the big bucks. ︎The post Two Plot-Friendly Approaches to Generation Ships appeared first on Reactor.

Movies & TV The Sheep Detectives The Sheep Detectives: A Fun, Funny Mystery of Unexpected Depth Look, I’m as surprised as you. By Leah Schnelbach | Published on May 8, 2026 Credit: Amazon MGM Studios Comment 0 Share New Share Credit: Amazon MGM Studios I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting too much from The Sheep Detectives—I love a high concept, but “CGI sheep solve a murder”??? Concepts can be too high. So it delights me to say that The Sheep Detectives is good! Great, even! I laughed a lot, the mystery is solid, the animation is fantastic, and I was surprisingly moved. There’s a deeper undercurrent than I was expecting in this film, which I’ll get into in a non-spoiler way below. And maybe best of all, I think this is the rare movie that could work for anyone over about the age of 5 or 6—there are some scary and intense moments, but the film works through them well, and I think most kids will come out fine on the other side. I’m going to do my best not to spoil anything because a premise this weird deserves to be experienced on its own terms. The Sheep Detectives was adapted from German author Leonie Swann’s 2005 mystery, Three Bags Full, by Craig Mazin, a man who has written a Hangover movie, Chernobyl, and The Last of Us. This a writer who enjoys a curveball. It was directed by Kyle Balda, a veteran animator who directed multiple Minions movies. Given this pedigree, I went in with no idea what to expect, and came out giggling like a fool. This is a deeply fun movie that’s also kind of deep—I’m not sure if this will be helpful as a review, but the woman sitting next to me said “AWWW” no fewer than 14 times over the last ten minutes. Hugh Jackman plays a farmer named George Hardy. He lives alone in a rad Airstream trailer and keeps a flock of sheep, and by “keeps” I mean he doesn’t just feed them, shear them, and take them to the vet, I mean he plays with them, he bottle feeds lambs who need it, and, most important for the story, he reads to them every night before sunset. George loves mystery novels, and he’s been reading to them for a long time, which is why, when a murder occurs, these bovidae have a Rian Johnson-level skill at working out clues and tropes to figure out whodunnit. The voice cast is stellar. Lily (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) is our lead sheep, the who’s always able to solve George’s mysteries before he even gets to the ending. She goes on a pretty harrowing emotional journey over the course of the film, and Louis-Dreyfus never hits a wrong note in either the comedic moments or the more existential ones. Her closest companion, Mopple, is played by Chris O’Dowd who does quiet, nuanced work as he tries to support her. Sebastian, an older sheep who’s seen more of the world and the evils men do, gives Bryan Cranston a chance to be world-weary and grizzled and he’s fantastic. The flock is rounded out by Rhys Darby (Wool-Eyes, who can’t see a thing due to the WOOL OVER HIS EYES and made me laugh every time he showed up), Regina Hall (Cloud, the prettiest sheep, a bit of a diva), Patrick Stewart (Sir Richfield, a wise old ram), Brett Goldstein (a hilarious dual role as Reggie and Ronnie, two young, bro-y rams), and Bella Ramsey (Zora, a yearling overflowing with existential questions). The humans are every bit as good—everyone takes their roles completely seriously, with no winking to be seen. Hugh Jackman takes us through a full emotional arc with George Hardy. The village is populated by classic cozy mystery archetypes. There’s a bumbling constable who needs help with his first murder case (Nicholas Braun), a cub reporter who wants a scoop (Nicholas Galitzine), a mysterious newcomer (Molly Gordon), the town priest (Kobna Holdbrook-Smith), the nosy town booster (Hong Chau), a butcher (Conleth Hill), and, hilariously, a second and more popular shepherd (Caleb), who is young, cool, personable—everything introverted loner George is not. Emma Thomspon also pops up in a small role, and she is DELIGHTFUL. Really if I have one critique of the film, it’s that we don’t get enough time with the townsfolk. The Sheep Detectives lives and dies by its CGI, and the animation here is lovely. The sheep have real weight. George’s flock are a mix of different breeds, and they’re each unique individuals whose personalities come through in their body language. The wool is beautifully rendered, with different textures and colors, and the animators really put time in to give the characters their own details. Also, and this might just be me, but sheep have amazing eyes? Their eyelashes are ridiculously pretty? And the movie takes a lot of time focusing on their eyes and how much personality can come through. One of things that makes this film so fun is that it sticks almost entirely to the sheep’s perspective. For the most part, we learn what they learn, and it’s fun to see the limitations this places on story. This leads to the darker undercurrents I mentioned above. I didn’t expect to write this sentence this year, but here you go: The Sheep Detectives is about grief. It works through the ways we try to deal with the grief death causes—storytelling, willing ourselves to ignore it, willing ourselves to forget those we’ve lost, willing ourselves to remember them. I yelled in my group chat about how much I’d like to get one movie where I don’t have to talk about God and religion (and as they correctly pointed out to me, I’m protesting too much) but God pops up here, in a hilarious way, and the film gives us a much more nuances discussion of the theology and cosmology that I expected from the “sheep solve a murder” movie. But, well, there’s no cure for death, or the grief it causes, and the movie doesn’t sugarcoat that. It makes the wise decision to come down on the idea that the best way to deal with it is through community. Which leads to the other two dark undercurrents. As it focuses on the way community can heal pain, it also asks what community is, and who should be included, which leads to a surprisingly deep look at prejudice and intergenerational trauma. And for all the whimsy and coziness, there is, don’t forget, a murder afoot—the sheep have to face the fact that not all humans are like their George, and that people are capable of violence and cruelty. One scene in particular kind of turns into horror for a few moments. (That’s the part that might be too much for younger kids.) My only real issue with the film also comes from the perspective choice—as with Wake Up Dead Man last year, I don’t think we get quite enough time with the supporting cast. The movie sets up a fun English village full of archetypes, but it doesn’t give most of them quite enough to do. And obviously, the sheep can’t be in the hotel or the church with the suspects, but given that we got a couple human-only scenes, I wish the movie had stayed in the village longer to let the humans bicker and suspect each other, because the cast is really fun. Braun is great at the “bumbling constable” aspect, but he really sells the idea that Officer Derry wants to do a good job. Galitzine embodies Elliot Matthews’ desperation without making him so irritating that we want him to leave town again. Kobna Holdbrook-Smith has one great scene as Reverend Hillcoate that kind of becomes a turning point for the mystery. Hong Chau and Molly Gordon are both excellent as Rebecca Hampstead and Beth Pennock, two women with secrets—and of everyone I really wish those two had gotten a bit more to do. And Tosin Cole is hilarious as the cool shepherd who makes the ladies of the town swoon as he walks by. I think that’s my only quibble though—like I said this movie really grabs its concept and runs with it, and it almost always works. If it’s not quite up to the level of Paddington 2 or Babe: Pig in the City, who among us can claim that? It’s a very worthy successor to Chicken Run and Shaun the Sheep, and I think this is a movie that will get popped on for families to watch together on many holiday weekends to come.[end-mark] The post <em>The Sheep Detectives</em>: A Fun, Funny Mystery of Unexpected Depth appeared first on Reactor.

News What to Watch What to Watch and Read This Weekend: Do Astronauts Dream of Sheep Detectives? Plus: David Attenborough and Victor LaValle By Molly Templeton | Published on May 8, 2026 Image: Amazon MGM Studios Comment 0 Share New Share Image: Amazon MGM Studios Some weeks just call for nature programming. I don’t know if this is one of them; I do know that I have an accidental science-and-nature theme going on in most of these recommendations. We love to joke about touching grass, becoming moss, but—please forgive the deep earnestness—it’s not really a joke, is it? Every time I get out in the woods, I feel better. I feel a sense of scale that ranges from the tiniest mites in the bark of a tree to the entire tree, tall and possibly ancient; from the smallest wren to the Cooper’s hawks or barred owls we might be lucky enough to spot. We’re just one more part of that scene. The scale becomes even greater when there are humans in space, when it feels like half the planet is staring in awe at things we’ve never collectively seen before. It’s enough to make me want to drop everything and become an environmentalist, honestly, except that I’d probably need to go back to school for a really long time. But these are things to celebrate: space exploration, nature documentaries, the animals and plants that we share this single planet with. Hug your pets, tell your friends you love them, call your reps, maybe go touch some grass? Or at least go sit in a park for a few minutes in between episodes of all the new TV that’s come out recently. In This House We Pay Attention to Victor LaValle Adaptations It’s time for your next Victor LaValle adaptation! I say this with special glee because I really liked The Changeling. It didn’t always work perfectly, but it tried things, and it has one astonishing episode that should have won Adina Porter all the awards (this didn’t happen, because life is unfair). Now, we’ve got The Terror: Devil in Silver, based on LaValle’s novel The Devil in Silver. As Alex Brown says in their review, “All you need to know going in is that a guy finds himself imprisoned in a mental hospital that may or may not be haunted by a monster.” Said guy is played by Dan Stevens, who plays his role with “a real joie de dirtbag quality.” This may or may not be my new favorite phrase. The show also stars the always-excellent CCH Pounder. Maybe the most important thing, though, is this: “Writers and co-showrunners Christopher Cantwell and Victor LaValle nail this adaptation.” You should go read Alex’s whole review—or not, if you don’t want to know anything—and then give this one a try. It’s streaming on AMC+/Shudder.  What Do Astronauts Dream About in Space? I didn’t watch a ton of footage while Artemis II was in space—I was just too anxious. But now that the crew is back on Earth, I am lightly obsessed. This week’s treat is this interview with the New York Times podcast The Daily, which asked children for their questions, then presented those questions to Victor Glover, Jeremy Hansen, Christina Koch, and Reid Wiseman. I am not ashamed to say I teared up at the first question. Not in a “kids say the darndest things!” way—though the question about pizza parties is very funny—but because I remember being a kid obsessed with space, and I heard, in these questions, that same awe and curiosity. I want that sense of awe and curiosity for all of us. What’s more, the Artemis crew gave incredible, honest, generous answers; they treated every question with respect and kindness. It’s just beautiful. I’m not going to cry again. I’m just going to go look at photos of the moon.  Watching the Detectives (The Sheep Detectives, That Is) If horror is not your bag—as it is not often mine—there is another option in this week’s new releases. A very different option. You can watch Hugh Jackman read to sheep. The trailer for The Sheep Detectives astonished me: I had zero, maybe below zero expectations for a movie in which a flock of sheep, having been read murder mysteries by their shepherd, try to solve his murder. But then every scene was beyond charming. Confusingly, Craig Mazin (The Last of Us) wrote the screenplay for this adaptation of Leonie Swann’s novel Three Bags Full. Less confusingly, the cast is stacked: Jackman! Chris O’Dowd! Emma Thompson! Regina Hall! Julia Louis-Dreyfus! Rhys Darby! Patrick Stewart! Patrick Stewart voicing a sheep! Leah Schnelbach came out of this movie asking “Why was the SHEEP MOVIE an existentialist rollercoaster???!!!” You can read their review or just go to the movie! It can’t possibly be baaaaad. David Attenborough Turns 100 If you have ever watched a nature program, you’ve probably heard British naturalist, environmentalist, and broadcaster David Attenborough, whose precise, funny, calm narration has carried many a viewer through dozens of shows for decades upon decades. Today, he turns 100 years old. In London, there’s a tribute to him on a huge screen at Piccadilly Circus. The Today Show posted a video of him on the show in 1981, talking about the series Life on Earth. The Guardian, in an introduction to Attenborough’s “most spectacular TV moments,” says, “He is, without question, Britain’s greatest national treasure; a man who has devoted his career to helping the public engage with the natural world.” I want to watch all of those spectacular moments. I want to spend a week watching nature documentaries. But I am reminded of another video I shared in one of these posts, weeks ago: this look at the humble, magnificent hermit crab. Do you have a favorite Attenborough clip? I would truly love to see it.[end-mark] The post What to Watch and Read This Weekend: Do Astronauts Dream of Sheep Detectives? appeared first on Reactor.

News The Terror: Devil in Silver The Terror: Devil in Silver Is No One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Says Judith Light In a press conference, Light shared what attracted her to her character and the project overall By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on May 7, 2026 Photo Credit: Emily V. Aragones/AMC Comment 0 Share New Share Photo Credit: Emily V. Aragones/AMC Shudder and AMC+’s adaptation of Victor LaValle’s Devil in Silver offers a grim view inside a moldering psychiatric facility called New Hyde. (Want an example of how the show does that? Take a gander at the cold open for the series, which LaValle, his fellow co-showrunner Chris Cantwell, and director Karyn Kusama broke down for Reactor.) In the beginning, we see New Hyde primarily through the eyes of Pepper, a new patient played by Dan Stevens. Pepper is introduced to the psychiatric ward by long-time patient Dorry, played by Manhunt, Transparent, Ugly Betty alum, and Tony and Emmy Award winner Judith Light. Dorry is a complex character, and during a press conference hosted by the Television Critics Association, Light explained what drew her to the project beyond the chance to work with those on the cast and crew. “We got to talk about mental health in this country, and what does it mean to be in a world with a healthcare system that diminishes people, not everywhere, but in many places,” Light said, adding that she was also interested in exploring “what does it mean to be, not a victim, but a woman in many ways who has been held as a second-class citizen.” Playing Dorry, said Light, touches on these issues, though the show as a whole, she makes clear, is “really not One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” referencing the 1975 film starring Jack Nicholson as a psychiatric patient terrorized by Louise Fletcher’s character, the abusive Nurse Ratched. “There are some people that are not as friendly as you might like, or as warm or as comforting, and they have their own agendas, but there’s not this vicious back and forth between the characters and Nurse Ratched,” she said. You can see what kind of horror series The Terror: Devil in Silver is when its first episode premieres on AMC+ and Shudder on May 7, 2026. [end-mark] The post <i>The Terror: Devil in Silver</i> Is No <i>One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest</i>, Says Judith Light appeared first on Reactor.

Excerpts Horror Read an Excerpt From Abyss by Nicholas Binge Severance meets Lovecraft in this surreal tale of corporate horror and existential dread. By Nicholas Binge | Published on May 7, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from Abyss by Nicholas Binge, a new horror novella publishing with Nightfire on May 12th. Joe always had potential, but he doesn’t expect much, and he hopes that his new job as an admin assistant won’t expect much of him. But when he enters the offices of Ponos—a company he’s never heard of and knows nothing about—he discovers that potential is exactly what they want from him. Joe pulls his phone out of his pocket, and opens WhatsApp, reading the message that’s been waiting for him. Good luck today! He takes a deep breath, and types out a reply. Thanks, Mum. I miss you. It would be nice if I could come round on the weekend and tell you about it? Maybe we could make— His fingers pause. Pressing the Back key, he deletes the message and writes it again. Thanks, Mum It’s 8:58. Straightening up, he takes out his earphones and puts his phone in his pocket, then he walks up to the front doors. They don’t open. He pushes, and then pulls a little, glancing around to make sure no one thinks he’s an idiot. To his left, he sees the bulbous glass dome of a security camera pointing down at him. To his right, there’s a pad for a keycard. Idiot. Pulling the keycard from his pocket, he swipes it against the pad, which makes a positive beeping sound. The door clicks and Joe pushes it open. Inside, a corporate lobby stretches from one end of the building to another. There are minimalist tables and chairs dotted around, presumably for impromptu meetings and discussions. In between, potted ferns and palm-tree-like plants fill the space, the bright green a welcome contrast to the overwhelmingly pastel colour scheme. There’s a couple of offices labelled things like it support and operational management and, in front, a long welcome desk with several computers. The whole space is completely empty. The lights are on. The general hum of the building suggests that most of the electronics and technology are running away in the background. But there isn’t a person in sight anywhere. Joe takes two steps forward and stands in the centre of the lobby, baffled. “H-Hello?” he tries. Nothing. Approaching the desk, he glances over to see the computers—on, but not logged in—and half hopes he might find another human being crouching down picking up some papers or something, but no. Outside of the hum, the completeness of the silence is only punctuated by the rustle of Joe’s bag and clothes as he moves around the room. Buy the Book Abyss Nicholas Binge Buy Book Abyss Nicholas Binge Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget He wants to tiptoe, feeling like each time his foot touches the floor or clothes rustle against his bag he’s defiling some kind of perfect sanctuary of quiet. He wants someone to show up. Getting out his phone, he scrolls back through his induction emails. At the bottom, there is a name and a phone number. Virgil Stanforth. 020 3853 8523 He calls it, and it rings three times before someone picks up. “Yes?” “Hello, Mr. Stanforth?” A pause. “Yes?” “My— My name is Joseph Rice. I was hired at Ponos as an administrative support worker and this is my first day.” Another pause, this one longer. “Yes?” “Well, I . . . I’m in the lobby, and there’s no one here.” “What?” “Yes. I was told to come in at nine a.m. on my first day.” “You’re in the lobby?” Joe looks around him again, trying to work out if he’s somehow got it wrong, but he can’t understand how. “Yes.” “Jesus Christ.” A beep indicates the call’s been terminated, and Joe just stares at his phone for a minute, blinking at the screen. For a second, he considers leaving. If he goes home, he can order some food from that Mexican place and maybe put on a film. He’s not watched a film in months—every time he starts he keeps getting sucked into YouTube shorts and ends up turning it off. Maybe he could watch something new? Like a— His phone buzzes in his hand so loudly he almost drops it. The sound echoes round the painfully empty space, invading and infecting it so utterly that Joe scrambles to accept the call as fast as he can, his panicked fingers fumbling. “Hello?” “Welcome to Ponos, Mr. Rice.” It’s not Virgil Stanforth, but a woman’s voice—soft and comforting. “Our deepest apologies but everyone is extremely busy this morning. If you could please head to your right and take the lift up to the fourth floor, you’ll find your office space in Room 412. Your keycard should give you access and your login was provided with your induction packet.” “Oh,” he says. “Thank you. I appreciate that, I just wonder if—” “We value all our staff,” the woman cuts through, as if Joe hadn’t spoken. “At Ponos, we are family.” Once again, the call ends as suddenly as it began. Excerpted from Abyss, copyright © 2026 by Nicholas Binge. The post Read an Excerpt From <i>Abyss</i> by Nicholas Binge appeared first on Reactor.