Warning: A minor degree of spoilers is inevitable in this case
Usually, I have little trouble to entangle a movie adaptation from a superior
more thoughtful source and take it for what it is. No such luck for me with
Denis Villeneuve’s adaptation of Ted Chiang’s “Story of Your Life”. It’s too bad
too, for I suspect if I could, I would find a little bit more to like about the
film at hand.
Part of this difficulty certainly lies in the fact that the film’s first half
or so is a more than decent movie version of the story, given a glossy Hollywood
sheen through impressive camera work, special effects that recommend themselves
by never pointing to themselves, and expectedly good acting by Amy Adams, Jeremy
Renner and Forest Whitaker. Adams’s Louise’s first visit to the alien spaceship
is a fantastic moment that demonstrates the wonder, the awe and the terror of an
encounter with the utterly alien. Alas, the aliens become increasingly less
alien the longer the film goes on and the further it moves away from Chiang’s
novella. In the end, the film’s aliens are just another band of outer space big
daddies who have come to wag their fingers at humanity and unify it by
force instead of the much more ambiguous and truly alien aliens of the novella
to whom we and our ways are as alien as they are to us.
Of course, if the film did otherwise, we couldn’t have a last half hour
mostly consisting of lame, clichéd ticking clock scenarios and been there, done
that plot events. Keeping with this dumbing down, Villeneuve (or Eric
Heisserer’s script) also turns the story’s central philosophical conceit into a
plot-practical way to see into the future that is infuriating in its
simple-mindedness, falling into the usual trap of expecting a film to play well
to the dumbest audience member a Hollywood filmmaker can imagine.
All this does add up to the perfectly respectable kind of science fiction
film that can play well with the Academy Awards audience (see also the loathsome
Gravity), the sort of film that pretends to be deep and emotional but
mostly makes empty gestures to hide how cynically manipulative it is. Which is
in general what the big mainstream film awards still prefer from their films,
the last bunch of Academy Awards nominees and winners notwithstanding.
Now, I’m not at all against spectacle with a hint of heart as my love for the
output of Marvel Studios should prove, but the way Arrival handles
these things really sticks in my craw, the series of pretentious gestures that
never become anything more than gestures that is the final act, hiding emptiness
behind the still fantastic effects and production design and an increasingly
schmaltzy score by Jóhann Jóhannsson (who could do so much better), adding up to
very little but presented with the grandest gestures possible.
Thursday, April 5, 2018
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