‘Gravity’ finds surprisingly successful balance in simplicity, suspense

cinema scope: Fall movies to refresh the big screen

It was a pretty horrid summer in terms of quality cinema. We were drowned in a sea of over-budgeted blockbusters about superheroes—many of which were sequels or tent-poles. The critics and blogs were all over the issue ad nauseum: I can’t tell you how may think pieces I’ve read in the past few months about the sordid state of American commercial cinema (I’m looking at you, Vulture). After so much derivative destruction porn, one can begin to despair. Can Hollywood still dare to risk disappointment for higher art? Can producers still trust proven artistically-minded directors with forward-thinking motion pictures rather than money and brand names?
But don’t just throw down your hat, swear off the movies forever, and live the rest of your lives re-watching Breaking Bad and Orange is the New Black. The summer is over and this fall promises to be one of the most exciting seasons at the movies in recent memory
Here are a few I’m most excited for:

cinema scope: ‘Captain Phillips’: A Great American Hero

The latest feature by Paul Greengrass—director of “The Bourne Supremacy” and “United 93”—is a watertight geo-thriller, light on its feet and pleasantly conscious of its subject. Greengrass may be a Brit, but in the past decade he’s taken the lead in constructing action thrillers that interrogate the ethics of American military operations.
In “Captain Phillips,” he pulls off a rare feat for an American action film: casting the country as a righteous, rational and victorious force without reducing the Somalians to soulless villains. Greengrass shows how they too are subject to pressure and greed; they represent the bottom half of a capital-driven global economy.
The film traffics in realism, taking up the ever-popular ‘like-you’re-there’ aesthetic for its action sequence. This comes as surprisingly refreshing after a summer loaded with grandiose superhero flicks. Greengrass doesn’t cheapen allusions to American trauma by casually evoking global catastrophes (e.g. the overt 9/11 imagery in something like “Man of Steel”), but instead allows these events to stand alone. In the hands of a director who is savvy enough to trust his own excellent visual narrative, the heroism comes through even without the cape and tights.

cinema scope

‘Gravity’ finds surprisingly successful balance in simplicity, suspense

This piece represents the opinion of the author:

Sam Fichtner

Columnist

October 25, 2013

COURTESY OF WARNER BROS. PICTURES

SUSPENDED: Alfonso Cuarón’s “Gravity” has received significant acclaim from critics and audiences alike.

“Gravity” is the hottest thing to the happen to cinema in quite a long time. We only get films like this once in a while—films bold in artistic vision yet so true to staple elements of what makes cinema exciting that virtually anyone can enjoy them. And yet, it’s not the easiest film to talk about. When asked if it’s worth seeing, my response is usually something like: “It’s so…just go see…ugh…it’s really (expletive) awesome”.

After some thinking, my translation of the above statement is that “Gravity” is by far the most visually stunning piece of narrative cinema that has graced the big screens in decades, and should be a point of reference for all big-budget filmmakers.

The film has begun to fade in my mind some few weeks after having seen it, but only because it registers so well as an immersive experience. There has never been a film that so demands to be seen in the theaters (nope, not even Avatar), on a big screen, in full volume, and especially in a dark room, with no distractions. It seems as though the American public feels the same way. “Gravity” has now topped the box office for three straight weeks, setting an October record for box office returns.

But what to make of the film’s director, Alfonso Cuarón? Of all the so-called visionary directors working in the business today, Cuarón’s filmography is by far the strangest. He’s made an intimate coming-of-age road movie (“Y Tu Mamá También”) and the third installment in the Harry Potter series (considered by many to be the best of the film adaptations, and a surprisingly clear predecessor in his oeuvre to “Gravity”).

And then of course there is “Children of Men,” his 2006 dystopian opus set in a world where all women have become infertile. “Children of Men” functioned with an astonishing level of visual literacy; it communicated with a plethora of action-packed sprawling set pieces and visceral POV shots following the lead characters. When watching Cuarón’s films, you are always aware of the camera, but not in a distracting way—it’s both awe-inspiring and informative in a narrative sense. “Gravity”’s camerawork—after four years of technological development—is even more amazing, perhaps the most amazing work in the digital age. The expertly choreographed scenes that go from wide shots of Earth to extreme close-ups on eyes suggest both the grandeur of space but do not ignore the nuances of human expressions and reactions to that frightening abyss. This speaks much to the work of cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki—whose filmography over the past decade is well known to any dedicated cinephile. “Gravity” is as much Lubezki’s film as it is Cuarón’s.

The film begins with an 18-minute opening sequence where a space shuttle slowly drifts into the frame; then we glide into close-ups of the astronauts, undergo a serious catastrophe, and watch our lead character helpless float deep into space, in one shot—it is as brilliant as that sounds. The film continues to use extremely long takes throughout the film to prevent a sense of escape.
This film is 90 minutes of pure action-packed stress, but it pulls off an excellent trick in that it somehow manages to make you care deeply for the plight of the protagonist.

Gravity’s masterstroke also happens to be a point of derision for critics of late. The film, for all its technical brilliance and astonishing scientific realism, has a magnificently simple plot. This is a survival tale. The object? Get back to Earth.

When you start to think about the ways a lesser filmmaker could have spoiled this perfect formula, you begin to appreciate how lean Gravity is. There are no lengthy pre-space preparations, nor flashbacks, nor lame on-earth dénouements. We are prepared for exactly what happens and we’re never bored because the goal is always looming large—and my god, Earth has never looked so menacing and beautiful.

Because the plot is so simple, the backstory and emotions of Sandra Bullock’s Dr. Ryan Stone can sometimes feel a little forced or out of place. Many have argued that the film eventually devolves into melodrama and cliché and that the emotional moments don’t feel earned. Stone has a child that serves to explain her despair, and complicates her choice to fight for her life. But the knowledge of this child seems to come out of nowhere and rarely enters the story again. However, I’d propose that the melodramatic tone is not only intentional but helpful and essential to a film with such a simple plot.

Remember, Gravity’s key is its simplicity. The visual pleasure derives from an awe of the frontier and the lyrical movement through the cosmos. There simply isn’t time for lengthy exposition. Melodrama functions as a key to providing quick and direct emotional registers accessible to all. There is a lonely, lost mother who has lost faith and is now on the path to redemption. This knowledge makes it easier to care for Stone; she’s a hero we know through the narratives of survival tales past, with a history that could belong to anyone.

The casting of two major movie stars supports this sense of identification. I’m not a fan of Sandra Bullock by any means, but having a movie star in such a huge non-speaking role helps the audience identify with her. We know this woman through her past roles (personally, I was reminded of Bullock from the film “Speed.” The sense of crisis she went through in that film informed me about how this woman acts under pressure). Simply put, this film could not work with unknown actors.

While this film aptly resembles a scientific reality, part of my interpretation rests on the fact that it could very well be an elaborate dream. Stone (a curiously unqualified doctor out of her element) acts as an excellent template on to which viewers can project themselves.
“Gravity” provokes these interpretations without pulling the audience out of the action. It is either the most experimental and expertly-shot big-budget action film or the most accessible avant-garde visual experiment of all time. And the film knows it rests between these two poles while constantly and enthrallingly dancing between them.

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