Gravity Review

Let go; be swept away.

Full, spoiler-free review by Isaac Handelman

The question that overwhelmed me while watching Alfonso Cuaron’s eerie space drama Gravity was simply, “Why has no one thought to make this movie before?” The premise is simple: two astronauts fall victim to a freak accident during a by-the-numbers research mission, and find themselves drifting through space in a desperate search for a way back to Earth. Racking my mind for a similar film, no examples come to mind. That’s surprising, but fortunate, as Gravity breaks into unexplored territory with confidence and sheeny spectacle.

Sandra Bullock and George Clooney headline Gravity as astronauts Stone and Kowalski, respectively, but let’s not kid ourselves; the real star of the show is the visuals. Bullock plays her party in a predictably solid manner, and Clooney’s presence is a comfort. Yet, the two aren’t given much in the way of substance. In fact, Gravity’s weakest points come when it tries to flesh out its characters. Cuaron is a master of striking visuals, but his dialogue often feels ham-fisted, pandering for viewers to pity Bullock’s character rather than to truly get to know her. Sometimes Cuaron tries too hard to have Stone convey her distress in a verbal form, which leads to just one or two unintentionally amusing bits of over-the-top dialogue from Bullock; the instances aren’t frequent, but they do interrupt the momentum of an otherwise engaging experience. Kowalski, on the other hand, is basically resigned to a role of reassurance for Stone, though Clooney’s delivering of the film’s sparse-yet-effective comic relief is done well.

Earth, as you've never seen it before.

These gripes cannot be ignored, but they manage not to seriously harm Gravity, as almost all else of what the film offers up is immeasurably engrossing. To call the film a thriller is putting it lightly, as Gravity doesn’t thrill in the usual, “watch-these-tense-situations”  sense; instead, it puts its viewers in the shoes of its characters, to the extent that I found myself holding my breath due to my perceived lack of oxygen in the theater. In fact, the film actually places its viewers behind an exhilarating first-person camera from time to time (I’m lost for words on how this was pulled off by the filmmakers). Holding true to the lack of sound in space, Gravity doesn’t contain much in the way of cheap, loud “jump” thrills. In fact, the loudest part of Gravity is when the film displays its opening title. Gravity builds tension in an organic way, building up a slow sense of dread in its viewers, who know exactly what’s to come from the film’s marketing materials (which, by the way, reveal less about the movie than one would initially believe). The film doesn’t take long to get going, and once it does, it never stops. All the rest relies squarely on the painstaking dedication of the filmmakers to make Gravity hit home, in a way that’s difficult to describe -- and on the visuals.

Thankfully, the visuals don’t disappoint. Most of the time, despite its shiny, Hollywood exterior, Gravity feels uncomfortably real. That’s partially thanks to the downright marvelous visual effects. Earth’s stunning vistas are rendered in staggering detail, and each of the film’s many zero-G debris collisions are dazzling.  I’d be floored if any film other than Gravity took home the Oscar in the visual effects category this year.

Bullock and Clooney are strong, but they aren't Gravity's main draw.

The film’s strength in visuals is also thanks largely to Alfonso Cuaron’s brilliant direction. Among many things, Gravity is a ninety-minute-straight showcase for the gargantuan talent of its director. What’s immediately apparent is how little Cuaron cuts during the film’s most exhilarating scenes; instead, he pans. The constant panning could conceivably bring on dizzyness for some viewers, but it works wonders in the context of Gravity, a film all about the lack of its titular force. As its characters drift around onscreen, their surroundings being shred to pieces, all against the backdrop of the silky blue seas of Earth, it’s easy to get caught up in the moment and forget altogether that you’re watching a movie. That’s when Gravity is at its disorienting best: at those times when it manages to be so good at what it does that it becomes more like a visual experience than a moving image on a screen.

Gravity is the kind of movie that needs to be watched on the big screen. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it should only be watched on the big screen. Its inevitable DVD/Blu-ray/Digital release a few months down the line will still carry value, but its narrative flaws will undoubtedly shine through to a greater extent when its magnificent visuals aren’t spread out across a huge theater screen. As it stands, though, you probably won’t notice Gravity’s pitfalls -- you’ll be too busy holding your breath in relentless trepidation and giddy wonder.