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Review: Alfonso Cuarón’s Visceral, Knuckle-Chewing ‘Gravity’ Starring Sandra Bullock & George Clooney

Review: Alfonso Cuarón's Visceral, Knuckle-Chewing 'Gravity' Starring Sandra Bullock & George Clooney

Since JFK vowed to put a man on the moon in 1961, space has represented untold possibility, hope and optimism. But once we actually got there, we realized
what a terrifying place it can be. An endless void, freezing and/or burning, a place without air or life. But most terrifyingly of all, if you die in
space, you die alone: thousands of miles above and away from your loved ones. And more than anything, aren’t we most afraid of dying alone? Alfonso Cuarón seems to think so, as that’s the fear that drives his new film, the extraordinary “Gravity.”

The long-awaited project arrives seven years after Cuarón’s last film, “Children Of Men,” and while the anticipation over the picture has been breathless, the
filmmaker’s return manages to live up to, or even exceed, those hopes at almost every level. Over a nearly seamless opening shot that clocks in at least
fifteen minutes long, the director introduces his subjects, veteran astronaut Matt Kowalski (George Clooney), on his last expedition, and
scientist Dr. Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock), a nervous, haunted first-timer.

It’s a gentle, enjoyable opening, one dominated by Clooney’s warmth and humor as he prepares to say goodbye to orbit, but things suddenly go south, as an
exploding satellite causes a tidal wave of debris that decimates both the Hubble telescope, which the two are working on, and their space shuttle. And from
then on out, the film is about their battle for survival as they scramble to make it back to Earth alive (which might disappoint those expecting something
more existential along the lines of  “2001: A Space Odyssey”). “Gravity” is very much an action adventure film, one very occasionally more meditative than
most, but it’s unashamed in its desire to thrill you. 

And thrill you it certainly does. It’s visceral, knuckle-chewingly tense stuff, with Cuarón and his co-writer and son Jonás expertly packing obstacle packed on
top of obstacle in the way of the astronauts’ return home, without losing touch of humanity or humor. The camera floats as weightlessly as its subjects,
but the shots (often extended, but always in a way that favors storytelling above showboating) are always clear, and more often than not composed with
meaning and artistry, courtesy of the great Emmanuel Lubezki. And with the director being careful to ensure the void of space
doesn’t carry any noise, the excellent score by Steven Price (“Attack The Block,” “The World’s End”)
helps to keep things both breathless and beautiful.

The film comes as close as most of us are likely to get to actually being in space (undoubtedly aided by the 3D: this is one film that’s really worth
paying the extra bucks for to see in the format, whether the lens is capturing a tiny spinning speck in the distance or debris flying in your face). But it
shouldn’t be dismissed as a mere rollercoaster ride—even if your instinct, as at a theme park, is to finish the experience and line up again for another go. When all’s said and done, the action is in service of character, and more specifically, Bullock’s Dr. Ryan Stone.

The character is less of a presence early on—she’s withdrawn and panicky, and mostly following Clooney’s lead. But Bullock moves to the forefront as the
film goes on, as a tragedy in her personal life is gradually revealed. Her arc brushes against sentimentality sometimes as it doesn’t say anything
particularly revelatory and risks coming across as somewhat like a self-help book—the character is more sketched rather than drawn. But Cuarón just about keeps things restrained, helped in a big way by Bullock, who through action rather than words, is steely, vulnerable, occasionally funny and
about the best she’s ever been in a dramatic role. Clooney’s just as good—his effervescence drives the early sections, but he brings home the pathos too
with his part-paternal, part-flirty chemistry with Bullock.

They deserve all the credit in the world, but there’s no doubt from the first few frames that the film is anyone but Cuarón’s. With “Children Of Men” still more of a cult favorite means that he perhaps doesn’t have the reputation among wider audiences that he deserves, but that’s likely to change here. The film’s
technically perfect, of course, from the terrific sound design to the impeccable effects (the exact extent of the CGI is difficult to say, because pretty
much everything looks photo-realistic, even when things head indoors). But it’s also cleverly written, and more than anything, phenomenally directed, from
the way that he uses every available surface to tell his story (someone’s going to write a book one day on the use of reflections in this film) to the
way he and Lubezki shift the light to vary the color palette, preventing it from becoming repetitive. Almost every decision is inspired.

Almost every one. There’s one nod to “2001” at one point that’s so overt enough that it threatens to break the reality of the world that Cuaron Cuarón’s set up. And
the very final music cue is so overbearing that we nearly dropped the film down a grade. But ultimately, these are minor quibbles. “Gravity” is about as
visceral an experience as you can have in a cinema, it’s a technical marvel, and it’s a blockbuster with heart and soul in spades. [A]

This is a slightly edited reprint of our review from the 2013 Venice Film Festival.

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