Gravity (15.)
Directed by Alfonso Cuaron.
Starring Sandra Bullock and George Clooney. 91 mins
Remember that silent, unbroken, shot in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey where an astronaut fires himself into an airlock and we see gravity, atmosphere and sound return once the door has been closed? It is feat of cinematic daring that amazed audiences in 1968 and still stuns today. Gravity is that piece of daring extended for an hour and half. It is a landmark science fiction movie, one of those films that come along every three or four years, just as audiences are getting complacent about special effects, and reignites the sense of wonder. (It also makes 3D seem special again.)
In his previous film, Children Of Men, Alfonso Cuaron showed himself to be a technical wizard, pulling off a number of head scratching, how-did-they-do-that tracking shots, but all in support of an unengaging story. Here though his virtuosity serves a stark, simple and utterly compelling tale of survival. It is a big budget epic yet similar in construction to those minuscule concept thrillers that were popular after Open Water - films that are three people stuck on a ski lift or Ryan Reynolds in a box. Here abrupt catastrophe strikes a shuttle mission leaving astronauts Clooney and Bullock adrift in space, orbiting the earth with little oxygen left and no way of contacting ground control.
Early on when the space veteran Clooney is quizzing first timer Bullock about what she likes about space travel she says that she could get used to the silence. It always mystified me that sci-fi film so rarely make use of the dramatic possibilities of space travel, such as the fact that sound can’t travel in a vacuum. Gravity is that rare film that captures both the beauty of space and its callous, indifference danger. Cuaron sticks to (some of) the rules of physics and uses them to shape a really dizzying string of brilliant shots. The film starts with a spiralling tracking shot that gradually circles in on the protagonists and sets up the whole movie: Clooney spinning around playing with his new spacesuit, Bullocks labouring uncertainly over her modification to the Hubble telescope.
For most of it length Gravity is a masterly balancing act between art and commerce. Cuaron learnt his lesson from Children of Men: this time he wants to make sure people come and see his filmmaking flair. The plot is minimalist and its telling stately but skilfully paced; it knows just how long it can hold a set up before an audience will get restless. The camera always seems to be in exactly the right place. Its formal daring is leavened by moments of humour and two superstar turns by Bullock and Clooney. Spoiler, not once but twice, the film manages to get Bullock to strip down to her underwear, the first in a cheeky homage to Jane Fonda’s zero gravity striptease in Barbarella.
Bullock and Clooney are both good but are both playing to type: even Bullock’s astronaut is ditzy. I think the film would have been more effective with the kind of bland, non-entity astronauts Kubrick had in 2001. Bullock and Clooney fill up too much of the silence; they suck the vacuum out of the film. As it goes on the film’s choices becomes increasingly conventional; instead of eerie silence it falls back on Steven Prince’s score. After being gripped and gobsmacked by its first three quarters, I have to admit that the film began to lose me and by the final fifteen minutes I didn’t particularly care if a return was made to Earth. For me it’s not quite the landmark film it could’ve been, but is still a monumental achievement.
Directed by Alfonso Cuaron.
Starring Sandra Bullock and George Clooney. 91 mins
Remember that silent, unbroken, shot in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey where an astronaut fires himself into an airlock and we see gravity, atmosphere and sound return once the door has been closed? It is feat of cinematic daring that amazed audiences in 1968 and still stuns today. Gravity is that piece of daring extended for an hour and half. It is a landmark science fiction movie, one of those films that come along every three or four years, just as audiences are getting complacent about special effects, and reignites the sense of wonder. (It also makes 3D seem special again.)
In his previous film, Children Of Men, Alfonso Cuaron showed himself to be a technical wizard, pulling off a number of head scratching, how-did-they-do-that tracking shots, but all in support of an unengaging story. Here though his virtuosity serves a stark, simple and utterly compelling tale of survival. It is a big budget epic yet similar in construction to those minuscule concept thrillers that were popular after Open Water - films that are three people stuck on a ski lift or Ryan Reynolds in a box. Here abrupt catastrophe strikes a shuttle mission leaving astronauts Clooney and Bullock adrift in space, orbiting the earth with little oxygen left and no way of contacting ground control.
Early on when the space veteran Clooney is quizzing first timer Bullock about what she likes about space travel she says that she could get used to the silence. It always mystified me that sci-fi film so rarely make use of the dramatic possibilities of space travel, such as the fact that sound can’t travel in a vacuum. Gravity is that rare film that captures both the beauty of space and its callous, indifference danger. Cuaron sticks to (some of) the rules of physics and uses them to shape a really dizzying string of brilliant shots. The film starts with a spiralling tracking shot that gradually circles in on the protagonists and sets up the whole movie: Clooney spinning around playing with his new spacesuit, Bullocks labouring uncertainly over her modification to the Hubble telescope.
For most of it length Gravity is a masterly balancing act between art and commerce. Cuaron learnt his lesson from Children of Men: this time he wants to make sure people come and see his filmmaking flair. The plot is minimalist and its telling stately but skilfully paced; it knows just how long it can hold a set up before an audience will get restless. The camera always seems to be in exactly the right place. Its formal daring is leavened by moments of humour and two superstar turns by Bullock and Clooney. Spoiler, not once but twice, the film manages to get Bullock to strip down to her underwear, the first in a cheeky homage to Jane Fonda’s zero gravity striptease in Barbarella.
Bullock and Clooney are both good but are both playing to type: even Bullock’s astronaut is ditzy. I think the film would have been more effective with the kind of bland, non-entity astronauts Kubrick had in 2001. Bullock and Clooney fill up too much of the silence; they suck the vacuum out of the film. As it goes on the film’s choices becomes increasingly conventional; instead of eerie silence it falls back on Steven Prince’s score. After being gripped and gobsmacked by its first three quarters, I have to admit that the film began to lose me and by the final fifteen minutes I didn’t particularly care if a return was made to Earth. For me it’s not quite the landmark film it could’ve been, but is still a monumental achievement.
