Runtime: 1 hour, 30 minutes
Rating: PG-13
Director: Alfonso Cuarón
Quick Impressions:
I’ve been so excited about watching this movie that I bought advance tickets in 3D and considered putting in my contact lenses.
(That’s when you know the film is something special because in the fall, the leaves turn red, and so do my eyes. Or, anyway, they might. That’s always my fear.)
In the end, after much deliberation, I stuck with my glasses. (I mean one false finger poke, and I could have screwed up the most transcendent cinematic experience of my life, you know? It was bad enough staring into the setting sun on the drive to the theater. My husband had to keep reassuring me, “The spots will go away. You’ll be able to see just fine,” as I cursed the glare and worried that the sun in the sky would prevent me from enjoying the sun as it’s meant to be seen—up on the big screen in 3D.)
As Gravity opened, I first felt relief that my scheme of wearing 3D glasses over a pair of prescription lenses seemed to be working out just fine. After a few minutes, I started to think, Hmm, yes, this is all very impressive visually, but still, is the movie really exceptional? I’m not sure it’s really captivating me in the way that I hoped that it…
Then suddenly Sandra Bullock went flying off into space alone, and I heard a tiny voice whimper in distress, “No!”
It was my voice.
To my complete shock, even though intellectually I’d been nearly convinced that I was barely engaged, the visuals in that scene were so effective that I reacted viscerally without even thinking. As I watched her falling helplessly into distant space, my heart sank deep into the pit of my stomach and imploded into a tortured little ball of space dust and loneliness.
So I think Gravity is an exceptional film that’s excellent for all the reasons you’d expect—the main reason being the involvement of director Alfonso Cuarón, always a master of elegant visual storytelling.
In general, I’m not a huge fan of 3D (particularly when it’s used to compensate for lack of depth in characters and story). It costs extra and it makes me stress out that I’ll injure my eyes somehow just before the movie starts. But like Avatar and Hugo, Gravity uses 3D as more than a gimmick.
The visuals in this movie are so powerful that I would recommend seeing Gravity in 3D to everyone (except my mother who had a full blown panic attack while riding Soarin’ Over California at Disneyland. Since she may not be alone, I’ll say this.)
Unless you’re prone to motion sickness or have a phobia of floating untethered through space, Gravity is a movie that you should see on the big screen in 3D. Even though it’s science fiction (in the sense that it’s fiction involving science), I would be stunned if this movie did not get Oscar nominations for Best Picture, Director, Actress, and Cinematography. Based on the films I’ve seen so far, I’d guess that it also has a shot at Best Score and possibly Screenplay. But besides being so laudable, it’s also a fantastically (almost ridiculously) suspenseful film that fills its ninety minutes with grace and intensity rarely seen in combination.
The Good:
One of my very favorite things about this movie is that its two stars, Sandra Bullock and George Clooney, are the only actors we ever see up close. In early scenes, there’s some other guy jumping around in the distance, but we never really get a good look at his face until…well, we never really get a good look at his face.
This really seems like a ringing endorsement for the star power of Bullock and Clooney. As you watch, someone might as well be barking, “Behold! The magnificence of Hollywood’s brightest stars and all the other wonders of God’s creation!”
I mean, Sandra Bullock has got to feel pretty good about herself. The director believes she’ll be the audience’s focal point while she’s sharing the screen with the sun, the Earth from space, and George Clooney.
There’s something so refreshingly (and paradoxically) minimalist about this set up. The setting: the vastness of space. The cast: two people. It makes me think fondly of the days when a studio could successfully open a movie showcasing only John Wayne and the great state of “Texas” (located somewhere near Arizona). There are a lot of movies, old and new, where the extras don’t really matter. In this movie, the extras don’t even exist.
This bold choice is so economical that I’m not sure why we don’t see it done more often. But it really works here. Bullock and Clooney are not the only cast, but they are the only cast who appear. I was surprised to learn in the closing credits that Ed Harris also lends his voice to the film. (I guess Alfonso Cuarón liked Apollo 13.) There are other voice actors, too, but they’re only playing voices we hear over radio transmissions. How many big budget, mainstream, live action releases feature a cast of just two stars and five voice actors? Even last year’s Amour featured occasional visitors to the apartment.
Here’s the thing, though, when you fill ninety minutes with beautifully framed shots of your lead actress and outer space, both subjects get enough meaty screen time to get awards attention. Granted, it’s only October, but to me, it seems like there’s absolutely no way Bullock and the cinematography (of Emmanuel Lubezki) won’t be nominated for Academy Awards.
And I think Cuarón is a shoe-in for director, as well. He deserves it. Even my mother (who is hard to impress) thinks that Alfonso Cuarón is a brilliant director and frequently credits his Prisoner of Azkaban for opening her eyes to the fact that Harry Potter’s popularity might be deserved. Cuarón films always feature captivating visuals and compelling framing.
But Cuarón really impressed me here with so much strong dialogue. Based on the previews, I expected to see Sandra Bullock floating alone in space until—she ran into the end credits? I really couldn’t envision where such a scenario could go, but I was positive it would go there quietly. (I mean, “In space, no one can hear you scream,” right? So how much could someone free floating alone with dwindling oxygen possibly say?) I expected protracted silences and lots of visual storytelling.
While we do get the latter, Gravity really surprised me by having nearly nonstop dialogue (in the broadest sense of spoken lines. Sometimes Bullock’s character is just talking to herself, but she still verbalizes more than I would have expected, and—miraculously—her lines don’t feel forced, stupid, or transparently expository.)
I suppose the real surprise, though, is that Gravity pulls all of this off without giving us even one single flashback. Normally one woman floating alone in space would be an invitation to a whole string of chatty, extra filled flashbacks, but Gravity just tells the story in a straight forward, briskly paced linear fashion (even when that storyline seems to be leading way off into the outer reaches of space). Now that is pretty darn impressive!
Best Scene Visually:
In this case, it might be easier—and certainly briefer—to call out only the scenes that did not work visually. (The trouble is, I don’t remember any of those because 1) the successful scenes were so captivating, and 2) the unsuccessful scenes were not in the movie.)
As we left the theater, my husband remarked immediately on the poignancy of the dramatic fetal position image (complete with cord). When you see that stark tableau, you’ll know what I’m talking about right away. I have a feeling that scene will become iconic—either the defining scene of the movie, or a scene that transcends its context to become more memorable than the film itself. On the one hand, it’s in no way subtle at all, but on the other, it’s so resonant that its lack of subtlety hardly matters. Some people may find it annoyingly pretentious, but you can’t deny that it makes an impression.
Really, the non-subtle moments are the best. I mean, the visuals are always good. It’s like watching beautiful people emote like gangbusters as they drift through a 3D IMAX documentary about the Hubble telescope. How could that look anything but stunning? Even the most casual shots are made dramatic by the nature of the material. I mean any time we’re looking down on the Earth from above, it’s got to be a pretty special occasion.
When it comes to stark, memorable images, my personal favorite is the visual metaphor offered by the thing that Clooney’s Matt Kowalski tells Bullock’s Ryan Stone to hold tight “like a Valentine.” For one thing, the view of Earth Ryan gets at that moment is certainly given a unique and memorable frame. Also, the sheer symbolism (foreshadowing a potential outcome of letting go) is pretty haunting.
I could go on to call out hundreds of scenes or individual shots. All of the film’s best moments are visual. I’ve decided that one day, I’ll save up and hire Alfonso Cuarón to film my biopic—but I’ll ask him to set it in space. (Or maybe at Hogwarts. I haven’t completely decided.) That way, even if I never actually accomplish anything, the movie about my life will still be one-hundred percent riveting.
Best Scene:
By far my favorite is Clooney and Bullock’s final scene together. Besides that early moment when Bullock goes flying off out of control into space alone, this is the part of the movie that moved me the most. As always, the visuals are driving the plot and stealing the show, but Bullock’s acting is also top notch here, and the script is so wonderfully affirming to people of faith. If you’re Catholic, take note of the icon (just a small holy card, really) that sets up this sequence. I suppose technically, this isn’t just one scene, it’s three short scenes together that result in a very powerful cumulative effect. (Protestants are welcome to try their luck at finding meaning in the icon, too, and, of course, those from an Eastern Orthodox tradition. But that’s where I draw the line!)
Just kidding! People coming out of a Catholic or Orthodox tradition have a better chance of recognizing the saint in question, but Christianity is not a prerequisite for experiencing the power of this sequence. Actually, I like that this bit manages to be faith and life affirming without being preachy or wedded to the tenets of any one particular religion. What happens here could easily be embraced by people of any religion or even atheists since the events depicted also have a readily available scientific explanation.
Most Oscar Worthy Moment (Sandra Bullock):
Bullock’s Oscar clip should definitely be one of the monologues she delivers when she’s sitting down and beginning to feel that rescue will never come. The bit with the dog and the baby and the howling is good, and so is the confession decorated with floating tears. Best of all, I like the last thing she tells Matt.
Clooney’s very good in this movie, too. The part isn’t exactly showy, though, so if he manages to pull off a Supporting Actor nomination, it will only be because of overwhelming, teeming love for the film sweeping him into the category. That’s not impossible, but given how many great parts there are for male actors every year (whether in lead or supporting), it’s extremely improbable. Despite a solid turn as a likable character, Clooney probably has a better chance of settling down and raising a family with Sandra Bullock than of getting an Oscar nomination for Gravity. (And in case the gossip columnists have brainwashed you, I’ll weigh in on Clooney’s chances of marrying Bullock, too. He’s more likely to become an astronaut and actually walk off into space and set records and die. On the other hand, Clooney is rich, fit, and connected, so I guess with celebrities anything is possible. But don’t hold your breath.)
Funniest Aspect:
This movie doesn’t really need jokes, but it has several smile worthy one-liners. What really made me smile, though, is the way Ryan’s perspective/philosophy/outlook seems to change with her surroundings. Her consciousness seems to be very in sync with whatever religious symbol happens to be prominently displayed nearest her at the beginning of a particular scene. I’m not making fun of this trend. I actually think it’s both clever and artfully done. But if you’re thinking of the movie as something real that’s actually happening to a person (rather than looking at it artistically, symbolically), then this trend is uncannily amusing.
Best Action Sequence:
Both my husband and I loved the moment when Bullock’s Ryan is trying to detach something with her tools and never even notices what’s coming up behind her—first gradually, then more and more dramatically.
I’m also a big fan of the last big ordeal. It pairs so nicely with a related problem earlier on and makes you think, If there’s one thing human beings are made to be in, it’s trouble. Seriously, every medium and environment poses a huge threat to our survival. How do any of us ever survive when we’re so ill-suited to every element and environment?
The Negatives:
This movie is a beautiful and profound meditation on some of the most difficult (and inexorable, essential) aspects of the human existence. But what is going on with the Russians?
I guess in any movie about the US space program, the Russians must have a hand in whatever conflict arises, so I’m able to accept that they’ve either been 1) wildly careless (those crazy Russians!) or 2) up to something that will change the world.
I know that the movie focuses primarily on Ryan’s survival. She floats around up there making soliloquys so long that I guess she starts to think she’s Hamlet. By the end, it’s clear that her ability to survive is (surprisingly) less the driving issue than her will to survive (which is pretty far from being a given).
So I accept that the movie thrives on suspense, personal discovery, visual metaphor, and intense symbolism. Still, the premise sets up a situation much more complicated (and odd) than the movie that follows ever resolves.
Clooney’s character makes a lot of jokes like, “Well, I hope you have good insurance!” and “Everybody’s Facebook page is down!” But, um…
Is a world war about to break out? Could anyone with such a long, prestigious space program really do something so careless? Is there some kind of dangerous scheme afoot? Is life as we know it about to take a sinister turn?
This isn’t the kind of movie that addresses these questions. Like I said before (only half in jest) this is really a whole lot more like Hamlet in Space. It feels quasi-Shakespearean. (Despite a plot jam-packed with action, the real greatness of the work can be found in each human reaction.) This story is a character study, a meditation on life, a visual feast, a metaphor-lover’s dream. It’s less about what’s going on than about what all that means to someone experiencing it firsthand (and what that means to all of us experiencing it vicariously).
But it’s hard not to wonder what’s actually going on plot wise in a larger sense than we’re ever allowed to explore.
Another slight problem (problematic only because it detracts from the plausibility of the story) is that every single time Bullock is loose, the original problem always seems to flare up again—like exactly at that moment. And beyond that, there’s the issue of danger compounding on additional danger over and over again, to the extreme. Of course, trying to find a way home from untethered space is kind of a precarious situation, so I’m assuming that in real life that would be fraught with peril. But usually, in real life, the person dies before experiencing quite so many consecutive dangers.
Also, early on as I watched, I thought, It really is odd to see a woman floating around in space and then realize it’s not Sigourney Weaver playing Ellen Ripley. I’m not knocking Bullock, but I do think it’s odd when we learn a major element of her character’s backstory just a little later. It’s like even she thinks she’s Ripley. Overall, it works, but how much does this movie want to have in common with the Alien franchise? I mean, good grief! Can only one thing motivate female space protagonists? (Plus way to stress me out when I just spent the better part of the afternoon playing tag with my four-year-old.)
Overall:
In 3D, Gravity is less a diversion than an experience. In fact, some of the shots from Ryan’s point-of-view were so exhilarating and terrifying that I began to wonder how much the line between theme park rides and major studio releases will blur in the near future. As Sandra Bullock starring vehicles go, Gravity is less motion-sickness inducing than Speed 2, but it still feels more real, immediate, and dizzying than the average feature length theatrical release. The visuals are stunning, the acting is fantastic, and best of all, writer/director Cuarón has something to say about the human condition. I could easily see this film walking away with an Oscar for Best Picture. If you do see Gravity (and you should), make sure you see it in 3D. It looks phenomenal.