“Gravity” (2013) stars Sandra Bullock, as Ryan, a sort of junior space cadet; George Clooney, as Matt Kowalski, the effortlessly, uber-competent, veteran mission commander; and briefly, Ed Harris, as the voice of Houston/Mission Control. The story takes place in space and concerns astronauts but it is not about either space or astronauts. It is about life and loss and miracle and choice and other weighty matters, of which gravity is neither the first nor most important item on the list. It is about the gasp-inducing, heart-pounding beauty of the universe from a God-like point of view, which view clarifies in startling detail its vast magnitude and our comparative triviality. It is about a woman so burdened by grief and loss that she lives simply placing one foot in front of the other, finishing one task and then another, with no cognizance of “the view,” all her energy devoted less to the tasks than to their anesthetic effect on her fear paralyzed soul. It is about the conditions that might be necessary to convince that woman to take the gift of her miraculous survival of so many random dangers as a chance to fight for a real life. And, whether she lives or dies is no problem, because it’s been a hell of a ride. The transition from one to the other was necessarily sudden and jarring, accomplished by Clooney’s reappearance. Though only a figment of her oxygen-deprived imagination, Kowalski saves Ryan, emotionally and, as a result, materially, in the same way Jack saved Rose when the Titanic sank. The woman who never had anyone teach her to pray and had no one to pray for her at her own death, prayed a last message to Kowalski to give to her daughter. In the end, she returns to Earth’s gravity, having to fight for her life every step of the way, but having left her heart’s burdens behind in the weightlessness of space. Gravity-bound once again, she rises from the waters in a sort of baptism, on her own two feet, “raised to walk in newness of life.” Any story necessarily follows the survivors, and so has a presentation bias (and limitation) to them. “Gravity” is honest about the random nature of the dangers of space, and so, of all of life. It avoids the question of whether or not one possesses the skills necessary for survival. Everyone here does, as, in life, we mostly do as well. “Gravity,” instead, pays attention to the psycho-logical question of those who survive life’s random dangers: are they “willing” to do what is necessary to survive the aftermath? Or will they choose simply to sit down and die? Bullock does the latter but changes her mind. Clooney does the former but changes his mind, too, in order to save Bullock. It is an unusual and gutsy move to make a movie about the loser rather than the hero. But what kind of lesson can an iron-clad hero teach? I’m not like him, but I can be like her. Sad that a movie so full of and dependent on the miraculous, reaching for eternity, only touches on the spiritual before glancing off and settling for an emotional, even if powerful, denouement. Did Cuaron know what he was aiming at and pull away at the last minute? Did he not know that, in aiming for the ultimate, he had made only a glancing blow and fallen short? Either way, there is much grist for the mill here. Though groping as with sightless eyes, he heard the whispers echoing in the stars and has turned in the right direction. What he does see is magnificent. As a side note: Sandra Bullock has always been a beautiful woman but she hasn’t looked this lean and muscular since “Speed” (I’m just sayin …). She has always been an appealing presence and a competent actress, even rising to unforeseen heights for her well-deserved Oscar in “The Blind Side.” But her work here is orders of magnitude above even that level. This is her show all the way. The Babe couldn’t hit a homer like this on his best day at Yankee Stadium. Clooney is her perfect foil. So perfect, in fact, that his absence is deeply felt. Yet clearly the story would be greatly diminished if his character continued longer than it did. But take careful note of every-thing he does and when he does it. He seems always to dance around paying only half-attention, but everything is important and timely. Alfonso Cuaron directed, co-wrote, co-edited, and probably co-gaffered-and-key-gripped this deeply imaginative and thoughtful epic of the human soul. See it on the big screen. See it in 3-D, if you can. See it more than once. Buy the DVD. You’ll be glad you did.
Posted on: Sun, 06 Oct 2013 05:28:34 +0000
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