Gravity (2013)

If Alfonso Cuarón isn’t a name you already know (most recently, see also Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Children of Men), I truly hope that Gravity is the movie that changes that for you.  Although I’m willing to chock up some of my exuberance to the giddy breathlessness that accompanies a late-night screening after an otherwise dismal Friday, I’m sure that when I wake up in the morning I’ll have similarly positive things to say about Gravity.

Sandra Bullock and George Clooney star as spacewalking astronauts Ryan Stone and Matt Kowalski on a routine space shuttle mission.  The peaceful silence of space, though, quickly gives way to devastating terror when incoming space debris sends the astronauts hurtling through the vastness of deep space.

As someone who was a little bored and more than a little underwhelmed by 2001: A Space Odyssey (though maybe I was too young to appreciate it, as was the case with The Shining), the idea of 91 minutes in scientifically accurate space seemed unexciting, the perfect recipe for tedium.  But make no mistake:  while Gravity carries a rather sparse plot, Cuarón crafts an intense film that can really only be described as an experience.  Long stretches of the film play out in near silence, protracting the crushing tension of the protagonists’ literally impossible struggle to survive in such an unforgiving environment.

Full disclosure?  The tension becomes so unbearable that I almost cried at one point.  After a mesmerizing long-take opening that introduces us to the physics of orbit, a pervading sense of inescapable danger grips the audience and really never lets go (aside from a few deflating moments that are criminal to spoil because of how well they work).  Cuarón deftly keeps the anxiety just under boiling, turning your knuckles white without cracking the armrest onto which you’re gripping for dear life.  It’s riveting, connecting us to characters so simply and so effectively that their hopeless struggle gets us right in the most primal places – either slackjawed breathlessness or the tears of inescapable doom.

Though the star of the film is clearly and rightly Cuarón’s directorial skill, Bullock and Clooney are solid supports for the movie magic; having attained reputations as Hollywood’s everywoman and –man, they bring instant relatability without sacrificing any of the thespianic skill you’d lose with a cast of unknowns.  At the same time, they don’t rest on their recognizable laurels and allow the visual effects to carry the film; aside from a few forgivable moments of mildly ham-handed character development, Bullock and Clooney are in top form, playing distilled versions of their respective personae (Bullock as the career-driven single mom, Clooney as the gregarious professional).

Having said that, I doubt that Gravity will win any new converts to the Bullock or Clooney Clubs, nor do I anticipate much love in those departments come awards season.  I can’t, however, imagine that Cuarón will emerge unhonored; rather, the smart money goes toward Cuarón taking home a few statues, either for his taut and edgy script or for his directorial aplomb.  I really can’t stress enough – nor can I do justice in mere prose – how effective Gravity is at quickly engaging the viewer and then buckling them in for the closest approximation of weightlessness and all its perils.  Cuarón, pardon the cliché, really shows how it’s done by setting what I’m predicting is a gold standard in science fiction film (between this and Nolan’s Interstellar:  good luck, Star Wars), and it’s unfathomable to suppose that he won’t gain some wider attention outside of the “auteur” (read: indie) box into which he’s often unfairly placed.  How appropriate, then, if this is the film that launches Cuarón into the big leagues.

As an October release, Gravity is somewhat hidden, sandwiched between summer blockbusters and winter Oscar bait.  But I’m confident that I’m not alone in positioning Gravity as easily one of the top ten films I’ve seen this year, a real breathless tour de force that’s at once exhausting and exhilarating.

Gravity is rated PG-13 “for intense perilous sequences, some disturbing images and brief strong language.”  We see the grisly aftereffects of exposure to deep space in the form of a few lifeless bodies; the potential for an awful suffocating death dogs our protagonists’ every step/float, and at times the tension is nearly unbearable.  One F-bomb gets dropped, a welcome relief from the crushing silence.