About halfway through Gravity, after having been pummeled with space garbage for the nth time and knocked around like a tether ball and almost choking to death on her own carbon dioxide, Sandra Bullock says, "I hate space." It's one of those rare instances in film where you know, the moment it happens, that you have just witnessed a moment in cinematic history.
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| Gurl, I know. Space is the worst. |
Because Gravity is not just a movie. It's one of those Motion Picture Event films, like Titanic or Gone With the Wind or Jaws, that you don't just sit and watch. You let it happen to you.
And also, it's a god damn masterpiece.
And also, it's a god damn masterpiece.
This is a real, honest-to-goodness triumph for director Alfonso Cuaron. It's a visceral film that virtually swallows the viewer in the act of watching it. It's perfectly paced and plotted. It's terrifying. It's visually stunning. And the entire thing is anchored by a career-defining performance by Sandra Bullock (I hate to bring up Oscar already... but seriously).
For me, it is also the biggest surprise of the entire year.
Let me back up for a moment. This summer, I went to a midnight screening of Man of Steel (don't get me started on that piece of crap). Prior to the movie, we saw the 3D trailer for Gravity and, I'm not kidding, the entire theater erupted in inappropriate laughter at one point (I think when Sandra Bullock was desperately trying to grab onto the satellite and kept missing?). As we were leaving, in between complaints about Man of Steel, I said, "Can we just talk about that trailer for Gravity?" and everyone agreed that it looked absolutely terrible.
I've never been happier to admit that I'm wrong.
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| Astronauts on leashes: a character study. |
It's so unusual to find a movie that works so completely, from start to finish, and in so many different ways. Gravity works as a popcorn flick, full of suspense and external conflict, incredible special effects, and mind-blowing action sequences. But it also works as a quieter, existential examination of the effects of life threatening situations on the human subconscious. It's a sci-fi opera. It's a monster movie where the atmosphere is the monster. But most of all, it's a movie about the remarkable ability of human beings to survive.
Gravity opens with text that reads, "Life in space is impossible." It's so impossible that humans literally have to build machines to house their bodies in order to live. And those machines have never looker punier than they do in this film. Over the course of the movie, the Hubble telescope is ripped to pieces, the International Space Station completely decimated, and we are left with one tiny human body, pushed to its limits, swallowed by the blackness of space. And that's the true genius of Gravity: this is the first time a movie about space has managed to communicate the enormity of space. And maybe even the futility of human technology.
Cuaron, who has been working on this film on and off since 2006, is nothing short of a wizard. The first shot is an almost twenty-minute, fluid camera shot that would make you say "wow!" if you weren't busy gaping at how utterly fucking real everything looks. From there on out, it's all choreography, like a zero-g ballet with devastating consequences. It's so immersive and wonderful, it leaves you breathless and amazed and kind of in a state of disbelief- a remarkable achievement in the age of CGI fantasy cinema.
This is a space epic that will ultimately be listed alongside 2001: A Space Odyssey and Alien and Star Trek. And it's especially hard not to think about 2001: A Space Odyssey, when watching Gravity. But whereas Kubrick's film was about mankind journeying up into space, Gravity is about making it back down to earth. And whereas 2001 was overwhelmingly a film about men, Gravity is a film anchored around the strength of a woman. But instead of getting into feminist theory in Cuaron's movies, I'll use this space to praise Sandra Bullock, who delivers the best performance of her career in this film. With a setting this immense, it is imperative that the actor puts out work that is equally immense and Bullock is up to the task. Entire scenes rise and fall to the rhythm of Bullock's breathing. There are long stretches with no dialogue and no human interaction where Bullock must emote so much intensity using nothing but facial expressions. It's easy to see why practically ever actress in Hollywood turned this role down (including Angelina Jolie... twice). But Bullock doesn't only handle the part, she kills it. And she takes the entire audience along with her, forcing them to feel everything that she feels.
Gravity opens with text that reads, "Life in space is impossible." It's so impossible that humans literally have to build machines to house their bodies in order to live. And those machines have never looker punier than they do in this film. Over the course of the movie, the Hubble telescope is ripped to pieces, the International Space Station completely decimated, and we are left with one tiny human body, pushed to its limits, swallowed by the blackness of space. And that's the true genius of Gravity: this is the first time a movie about space has managed to communicate the enormity of space. And maybe even the futility of human technology.
Cuaron, who has been working on this film on and off since 2006, is nothing short of a wizard. The first shot is an almost twenty-minute, fluid camera shot that would make you say "wow!" if you weren't busy gaping at how utterly fucking real everything looks. From there on out, it's all choreography, like a zero-g ballet with devastating consequences. It's so immersive and wonderful, it leaves you breathless and amazed and kind of in a state of disbelief- a remarkable achievement in the age of CGI fantasy cinema.
This is a space epic that will ultimately be listed alongside 2001: A Space Odyssey and Alien and Star Trek. And it's especially hard not to think about 2001: A Space Odyssey, when watching Gravity. But whereas Kubrick's film was about mankind journeying up into space, Gravity is about making it back down to earth. And whereas 2001 was overwhelmingly a film about men, Gravity is a film anchored around the strength of a woman. But instead of getting into feminist theory in Cuaron's movies, I'll use this space to praise Sandra Bullock, who delivers the best performance of her career in this film. With a setting this immense, it is imperative that the actor puts out work that is equally immense and Bullock is up to the task. Entire scenes rise and fall to the rhythm of Bullock's breathing. There are long stretches with no dialogue and no human interaction where Bullock must emote so much intensity using nothing but facial expressions. It's easy to see why practically ever actress in Hollywood turned this role down (including Angelina Jolie... twice). But Bullock doesn't only handle the part, she kills it. And she takes the entire audience along with her, forcing them to feel everything that she feels.
Gravity is only ninety minutes long (and thank goodness, because it's ninety minutes of sweaty-palmed cinematic agony) in an age where most movies seem to tap out at the two and a half hour mark. It's also absolutely essential to see in 3D and on the biggest screen that you can find. Nothing else would not do justice to this expansive work of art. Do yourself a favor and let Gravity pull you in. It's nothing like any experience that you've ever had at the movies and you're unlikely to experience anything like it ever again.
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| The exact position I was in on the floor of the theater, waiting for this movie to finish. |
By the end, you might hate space, too. But if you're anything like me, you probably be a little in love with it as well.
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