Gravity

Director: Alfonso Cuarὀn

Starring: Sandra Bullock, George Clooney, Ed Harris

Written by: Alfonso Cuarὀn, Jonas Cuarὀn

Rated PG-13 for intense perilous sequences, some disturbing images and brief strong language

I felt physically exhausted after watching “Gravity.” I wasn’t simply sitting in a theater watching images pop on the screen with 3D glasses on my head and surround sound in my ears; I was careening through space for every terrifying second, fighting to survive. 

“Gravity” isn’t just a movie. It’s a metaphysical experience.

The plot of the film is ingeniously simple. Medical engineer and rookie spacewalker, Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock), finds herself spiraling through the infinite expanse of space when debris destroys the shuttle that she’s working on with veteran astronaut Matt Kowalski (George Clooney). With a dwindling oxygen supply and no contact with Earth, Stone and Kowalski must work together to find a way home.

Just imagine how utterly horrifying it would be to be trapped in space, doomed to forever sail across a sea of emptiness without any way to steer yourself toward a destination. I imagine it as similar to being in a state of complete paralysis: conscious but helpless. It’s an intriguing thought for sure but can an entire movie be sustained on such a simple premise?

In the hands of director and co-writer Alfonso Cuarὀn, the answer is a resounding “yes.” There are some really inventive ways that he builds and releases tension, none of which I’ll spoil here. You’ll just have to trust me. The movie never fails to capture your attention.

“Gravity” is primal storytelling at its best, less focused on character arcs and more on wringing a kaleidoscope of emotion out of the audience. It’s alternately terrifying, thrilling, heartbreaking, awe-inspiring and breathtaking.

That’s not to say that the characters are undefined, quite the opposite in fact. The film gives us just enough information to connect with them as human beings without distracting us from the immediacy of the narrative. We identify with their internal struggles so that, when everything goes haywire, it feels like something is at stake.

It also helps that we’re given remarkable performances from the two leads, especially considering that they had to act mostly in front of a green screen while suspended in the air. Clooney brings his usual charm to a character who’s much nobler than what we typically see of the actor. He’s a voice to give us an occasional break from the terror that dominates the film. However, it’s Bullock who makes the film as compelling as it is.

Her desperation is evident in every facet of her performance, most notably in her erratic breathing, something she does so convincingly that I found myself involuntarily matching her pace. She’s the conduit through which the audience feels emotion and much of the film’s success is thanks to her total dedication to the demanding role. I fully expect her to take home a ton of awards for her work.

What’s just as impressive as the acting is the stunning scenery that surrounds the actors. The view of the Earth is majestic, especially when it eclipses the sun and casts varying bursts of light and color onto the screen. The effects are extraordinary and rendered in painstaking detail. You’ll marvel just as much at the destruction of a satellite – and the resulting confetti of debris – as you will at the way a person’s breath collects on the inside of their helmet.

It’s all framed by a camera that fluidly mimics the weightlessness of space, flowing and spinning around the characters in mostly unbroken takes (the first shot of the film is 13 minutes long.) It’s composed more like a dance than an action picture, recalling the iconic “Blue Danube” scene from “2001: A Space Odyssey.” The technique makes you feel like you’re a character in the film; an unseen entity tagging along for one wild ride.

I also highly recommend seeing the film in 3D, even if you’re not a fan of the format. The 3D is so thoroughly convincing that it feels like an extension of your own reality. It’s beyond immersive. It’s probably as close as you’ll ever get to actually traveling in space.

Cuarὀn cannot be given enough credit for making everything work as seamlessly as it does. It feels like an evolutionary step forward in cinema, not just in terms of technology and experimentation, but also in the way that he marries big-budget spectacle with the artistic sensibilities of less mainstream entertainment.

“Gravity” is stellar. This new classic in science fiction is worthy of being mentioned alongside masterpieces of the genre like “Star Wars” and the aforementioned “2001.” See it on the biggest screen possible. It’s one of the best and most adrenaline-inducing experiences I’ve ever had at the movies.

5 out of 5 stars.

Drive

Director: Nicholas Winding Refn.

Starring: Ryan Gosling, Carey Mulligan, Albert Brooks, Bryan Cranston, Ron Perlman.

Written by: Hossein Amini (Screenplay), James Sallis (Book).

Rated R for strong brutal bloody violence, language and some nudity.

I like to believe that I have pretty great taste in film. I take pride in knowing that there are very few people that I know personally who revel in the art of filmmaking the way that I do. However, it can be a bit alarming when the only thing that makes you feel secure in your belief of a movie’s excellence is the score on Rotten Tomatoes. That’s why I’m glad to say that there is one man I know of whose film preferences largely mirror my own. That man is David Sprouse: former assistant manager at the theater I used to work at (and all-around great guy).

Back in September, David had the chance to preview the film Drive. I (being a father and a student) was unable to attend. At the time, Drive was my most anticipated film of the year. The reviews were bordering on universal acclaim and the trailer often graced the screen of my (inept) Droid. So, needless to say, I was incredibly excited to hear David’s impressions of the film the next day at work, and here’s what he had to say:

“Stylish, but too emotionally detached.”

He awarded the film a three-and-a-half out of five (though, I noticed, he eventually bumped it up to a four).

I was crushed. Here I was expecting this year’s best film and David, my one-and-only film confidant, said it was merely good, not great. Normally I would consider this to be a fairly good score but this was Drive!

I hardly went to the movies when I worked there, so I wasn’t able to pass judgment on the film until this month when it hit DVD and I am happy to report that David and I have had our first disagreement (though, not really since he did technically enjoy the film).

To be fair, I can understand his criticism. First impressions show Ryan Gosling as a very cold, mechanical shell of a man. He’s simply the Driver. No name, no background to speak of, and no apparent emotions. He drives. That’s it. It’s as if he’s been stripped of his humanity and now exists merely as an extension of the machines he so effortlessly manipulates.

This poster is brilliant.

We are introduced to the man as he plays getaway driver. The scene is remarkably tense. It's  remarkable because it plays against your expectations. The Driver doesn’t tear ass fast and furious through the streets to evade capture. Instead, he coolly manipulates his pursuers simply by using the lay of the land to his advantage. It’s the antithesis of the frantic, cut-heavy scenes we’re used to seeing in modern action films and it works beautifully as Driver’s introduction.

Ryan Gosling has fashioned a modern cinematic icon with his portrayal of the Driver. He may lack personality, but he makes up for it in style. He’s rarely seen without a toothpick in his mouth, his driving gloves are always at his disposal should the need arise, and he never leaves the house without his trademark scorpion-adorned silk jacket. (Guess who I want to be for Halloween.)

The character is fascinating. I found myself dwelling upon his actions long after the film was over. So little is revealed about him over the course of the film yet Gosling gives him so much depth. The man rarely speaks, but his actions speak volumes.

Driver develops a relationship with the meek, baby-faced beauty Irene (Carey Mulligan), his next-door neighbor, and her son, Benecio. As he interacts with the family, we begin to see that the Driver does indeed harbor deep emotions; he’s just unable to communicate them. His attempts at conversation are almost pathetic due to his inability to express how he feels. It would be understandable to interpret the Driver’s behavior as “emotionally detached” but I prefer to see it as “emotionally stunted.” Something has happened to this man that has caused him to regress socially. We never find out what it is, but we see enough to understand and empathize with his circumstance.

There seems to be trouble in paradise when Irene’s husband, Standard, is released from prison. Standard’s reentry into society has threatened the well-being of the only two people that the Driver cares for. We soon begin to see that the Driver is prone to catastrophic outbursts of violence. Drive is a film that screams nuance (or is that whispers?) in all respects save for one: its unmerciful depiction of brutality. It’s hard to endure, and makes a case for the Driver’s introspective behavior. He’s afraid of what he’s capable of. This is key to the movie's best scene: a devastating descent in an elevator.

The plot is a rather conventional crime drama that is redeemed by its stylish presentation, the performances of its supporting players, and by the Driver’s noble cause. The film feels very much like it’s grounded in reality, due in no small part to the people that fill in the blanks left by the Driver.

Much attention has been given to Albert Brook’s vicious portrayal of Bernie Ross, but my money for the best supporting performance goes to Oscar Isaac as Irene’s husband, Standard. His acceptance of the Driver plays against your expectations, and his affection for his family coupled with his longing for repentance makes his character all the more dynamic and sympathetic.

Any cinephile who relishes details will be in cinematic bliss with Drive; however, it’s not a film for everybody. Its lack of dialogue and exposition may prove frustrating for the average filmgoer and its sudden, extreme violence may provoke outrage amongst the more conservative audience members. I’d also like to point out that the licensed music, while thematically fitting, is incredibly jarring when you first hear it.

Overall though I believe Drive is an incredibly unique and emotionally-engaging experience if you give the film time to seep into your subconscious. The Driver is a character that begs to be dissected. Some, like my friend David, may interpret the character, and the film, as apathetic but I for one see him as a man who has, somehow, lost his humanity and is desperately attempting to reclaim it the only way he knows how.

5 out of 5