ARRIVAL (2016)
Directed by Denis
Villeneuve
Paramount, 116
minutes, PG-13
* * * * ½
What if they came? What if one day a dozen 1,500-foot-high
clam shell-shaped alien vessels were parked at various sites across the
globe–many of them in nations that didn't like each other very much? Could
Planet Earth cooperate with itself long enough to figure out what the travelers
want? What would be priority number one: attempts to communicate, or reflexive
military maneuvers? Good questions, but these are just the tip of the spaceship
in this smart movie whose only real flaw is that it raises script complications
that are hard to resolve clearly.
Okay–so a sci-fi film based on the premise that humankind
might not be a welcoming species is a genre staple. So too is one in which a few
intrepid scientists try to keep the dogs of war at bay because they detect no
indication of hostile intent. In this case, our clear thinkers are Dr. Louise
Banks (Amy Adams), a linguist, and Dr. Ian Donnelly (Jeremy Renner), a Department
of Defense scientist. And, yes, it's another movie in which it never occurs to
leaders that maybe it's not a good idea to piss off visitors whose technology
is rather obviously superior to that of Earthlings. Is there any reason to see
still another First Contact movie, especially one centered on a beat-the-clock
scenario? (Banks and Donnelly need to crack the communication code before China
and Russia launch preemptive strikes against ships on their soil.) Add American
exceptionalism to the clichéd parts of the film. Why is it only American
scientists—not one in Pakistan or Somalia, for instance–who think they should
be sure before raising the specter of an intergalactic war?
You should see this film because everything else about it is
fresh, smart, and provocative. Although it's often beautiful to watch, Arrival is much more than easy-to-digest
eye candy. It asks a lot of other questions that stretch the boundaries of the
sci-fi genre. Think of the long human quest to understand other species on
Earth. How would we communicate with
aliens about whom we know nothing? How would we ask non-humanoid aliens this
simple question: "What is your purpose?" What does the word
"weapon" mean? These aliens don't communicate by speech; they spray a
sort of squid ink that forms symbols that must be decoded and many of them seem
to be metaphors that add another level of complexity. I like this. Most sci-fi
films resolve the communication conundrum by postulating some sort of direct
communication becomes possible–either in language (Babel fish anyone?) or via
common understanding of universals principles of mathematics or physics (Close Encounters). Here's a question for
you: Universal for whom? Einstein tried to tell us that time is relative, and Arrival dares push this a step further
and presents us with aliens not subject to human limitations of time and
physics. Perhaps, on an empathic level some of us get that. Toss in a little
bit of Kurt Vonnegut; Louise Banks seems to be unstuck in time. So much so that
her most vivid memories are of things that haven't yet happened to her! She's
not a space/time traveler in any sort of 2001
Space Child sort of way–more like a person who dips in and out of an
incomplete not-always-linear dream. Why not? If time is relative and humans can
have flashbacks, why not flash-forwards?
The best way to view Arrival
is to suspend judgment and don't assume that what you see is what is happening
in the conventional sense. (It's akin to Interstellar
in that regard.) Surrender to the likelihood that at some point you'll be a bit
lost because the film paints itself into an intellectual corner and tinkers
with space, time, and reality until some of the logic frays at the edges. Look
up the term "zero sum game, as it factors into the movie, though more as
an idea than as a clearly defined reciprocity principle.
You can enjoy Arrival on
less lofty levels as well. It's gorgeous to behold and the use of stark
contrasts makes it more so. The alien ship in the U.S. hovers over Montana,
whose rolling landscape and majestic mountains are the painterly counterpoint
to the dark, barren interior of the alien ship and the bland khaki/camo of military
personnel and their encampment. Ms. Adams herself is a comely contrast to the
gigantic heptapod aliens. Pay close attention to the frenzied patterns sprayed
by the aliens during a key late moment in the film; in two fantastic pieces of closing
sequences cinematography, you will find echoes of these patterns. You'll also
discover that some of the film's sentimentality isn't as simple as you first
thought.
You can also enjoy very fine performances from Adams and
Renner. Adams is more than pulchritudinous; she's also a serious actress. In Arrival she strikes the proper balance
between terror and fascination, fragility and competency, intuition and deduction,
and vulnerability and sophistication. Renner triumphs by playing against macho
stereotypes. Enjoy it also because it's no E.T.
offering easy-to-swallow palliatives and warm, fuzzy worldviews. It is
unsettling, but not a Doomsday message; it messes with our heads. And it's way
better than most of what else is on cinematic offer at present. Whatever
"present" might mean!
Rob Weir
No comments:
Post a Comment