Gravity

The opening titles of Alfonso Cuarón’s newest film Gravity warn that life in space is impossible. The rest of the film puts that thesis to the test as rookie astronaut Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) and veteran Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) struggle to survive as a relentless debris storm destroys the space shuttle, and pretty much anything else in orbit capable of supporting life. The plot is straight-forward and psychologically relentless as one disaster after another challenges Stone’s ability and willingness to make it safely to Earth. Cuarón’s Gravity triumphs because of three strengths: its use of space as a setting, the performances of Bullock and Clooney, and Cuarón’s directorial skill. 

While outer space serves as the setting for the film, Gravity continually shifts the film’s focus between shots of Earth and vastness of outer space and the cramped world that Stone inhabits. The opening of the film consists of one extended shot—I’m not sure how long exactly, but it is long. Cuarón lingers on the majesty and loneliness of space as the nervous Stone and the lame humor of Kowalski flutter in and out of view.  After Stone becomes separated from the space shuttle, she drifts off into space, spinning out of control and seemingly lost forever, until Kowalski appears as a growing speck in the distance eventually reining in the wayward astronaut. With these shifts, Gravity evokes Kubrick’s 2001 in depicting the wonder of outer space. Also, not since 2001 has space seemed so empty, vast, and cold. 

Bullock and Clooney, just hanging out. 

Bullock and Clooney provide the star power necessary to carry such a straight-forward plot that relies on the audience believing in these characters as people trying to survive in extraordinary circumstances. Clooney carries himself with charm, annoying confidence, and the wisdom of a seasoned veteran (astronaut or actor, it doesn’t really matter). His droll stories and repetition of ordinarily mundane dialogue grows more meaningful with each utterance. His instance that he “has a bad feeling about this mission” becomes more poignant with each rendering. Clooney conveys Kowalski’s confidence and experience with ease and offers a strong counterpoint to Stone’s anxious competence. In Gravity, Bullock gives the performance of her career. Actors rarely win Oscars for their performance (The Blind Side is only bearable because of her, the rest of the film is the worst kind of liberal paternalism that passes as a story of African-American uplift), but Bullock deserves it here. She expertly balances Stone’s abilities and apprehensions. Her physical acting skill shines through in the few scenes outside of her space suit. When Stone seemingly reaches safety inside the International Space Station, she curls up into a fetal position in one of the film’s most beautiful visual moments. Her movement is natural considering her circumstances. Bullock performs the act with a startling compactness. Her body moves with purpose and without waste. It is a simple movement, practiced and executed to perfection, and it embodies the greatness of Gravity. 

Cuarón works rarely and chooses his projects carefully. His last film, Children of Men, portrays a dystopian film where humanity has lost the ability to reproduce. Never has the future seemed so irreversibly dead. Cuarón’s Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban remains the best of the Harry Potter films. He treats the magic of the Potter universe with respect and captures the growing maturity and sense of impending danger of its characters. He waited until the 3D technology pioneered by James Cameron in Avatar before attempting to make this film. He wisely ignored the advice of studios who wanted to include a countdown clock, flashbacks, and views of a rescue mission. Cuarón kept the focus where it needed to be, on one woman’s awe-inducing journey of survival. In doing so, he offered movie audiences a stunning mediation on grasping life from the jaws of death.