In a decade or so, we’ll probably all be able to jaunt into space on long weekends. In the meantime, there’s Gravity, that serves as both a space tourism guide and a giant, honking cautionary tale against it.
Yes, there’s the incredible beauty: The shimmering stars, the infinite blackness, the eerie and endless silence. And there’s the fun, too: Spacewalking is, like, the coolest thing ever, once you’ve mastered the technique. But there’s also incredible danger: No oxygen or gravity, vulnerable communication with earth, extremes of temperature. Oh, and all that beautiful blackness and silence? It’s also there to remind you that you’re on your own up there, in a place where no man was ever meant to be.
(I’m fine here on the ground, thank you very much.)
An astonishing Sandra Bullock, who continues to amaze me with the depth and range of her work, plays Dr. Ryan Stone, a biomedical engineer sent on her first space shuttle mission. But when a Russian satellite is destroyed, sending dangerous debris hurtling toward them, she and chatty astronaut Matt Kowalski (George Clooney—roguish, charming—giving us the Full Clooney, if you will) are the only ones left alive.
It’s a brilliant stroke to...