[img]7|left|||no_popup[/img] Moon is the sort of rare, thoughtful science fiction drama that Danny Boyle’s Sunshine aspired to be before degrading into a glossy, modernized analogue to Paul Anderson’s schlocky horror-trash Event Horizon. There’s no such demeaning collapse here. The film is a refreshing master class in science fiction cinema that stays true to its function as an existential, science-driven think-piece. It’s premise, owing something to Philip K. Dick, provides the raw material for speculative science – loosely, a method to deal with humans mining vital elements on earth’s faithful orbital companion — but the drama comes entirely from the implications and consequence of that science.

Of course, it would be criminal to neglect mentioning the most obvious influence on director Duncan Jones and screenwriter Nathan Parker: Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke’s seminal science-fiction masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey. But the influence is sophisticated, going beyond extending Kubrick’s realization of the lunar desert and iconic visual references – of which there are plenty, from the intelligent robot GERTY’s eye to an exuberant psychedelic montage in a later scene – to thematic elements. Where 2001 kept its focus on human evolution as mediated by an inscrutable alien intelligence, Moon turns inwards towards the struggle of being human when confronted by our own limitations. In a sense, Moon is reciprocal to 2001, which isn’t to say that Moon works parasitically. While it’s obviously not necessary to see Moon to appreciate or understand 2001, the reverse is also true on a surface level. But given the extent to which 2001 has become iconic and genre-defining, as much with its presentation of the HAL-9000 computer as with the black monolith, part of Moon’s appeal rests in how it plays off expectations generated by 2001’s genre influence. No blind adoration, then, but carefully considered reference, as exemplified by the HAL-like GERTY perfectly and smoothly voiced by Kevin Spacey.

In Reality, It Abounds

To reduce the film solely to comparisons with 2001, however, is unfair to Jones, whose debut feature is singularly accomplished on its own. The film is beautiful, with Gary Shaw’s pristine cinematography enriching the screen without being obtrusive and a production made all the more impressive in that exterior moon shots of the mining base and other assorted machinery were done through model work. Interior scenes of the base, whose white corridors are antiseptic but for the occasional personal, human touch of a photograph or knick-knack, are detailed and suitably hermetic in a mirror of the protagonist’s state of mind. Jones’ direction fully uses every aspect of the film to create a distinctly lunar mood of coldness and desolation, from an unhurried but not dawdling pace that leaves time to savour the details to a minimalist yet immersive and evocative score by one of today’s brightest film composers, Clint Mansell. The writing displays a careful, revealing use of dialogue and even more attentive plotting; major revelations, the most general of which can be figured out from the trailer, are handled not with an interest in the “what” but in the “how” and “why.” The method is understatement, expressing a trust in viewers to put in the effort of investing themselves into the film. That the script zeroes in on its character — the victim of a deeply unnerving, monstrous situation – instead of veering off with wild abandon into the trappings of a thriller – is key to keeping the film rooted in meaningful, nuanced psychology. This is the only way Moon can pull off an ending that, in the hands of impatient filmmakers, would come across as pandering instead of utterly sincere. And at the center of the film’s craft, poignantly grounding the story in a highly charged dual role, is Sam Rockwell as the solitary astronaut-miner who must confront a bizarre catastrophe on the eve of ending his three-year contract.

In an era in which audiences only seem willing to flirt with science fiction ideas when served with heaping doses of bangs, booms and ka-pows, Moon is an antidote to the endless parade of vacuous, ersatz sci-fi films like Transformers, The Island and so on, and films like Sunshine that aim higher only to depress and sell out the science in science fiction. Moon even shows up the Star Trek relaunch for the mindless but undeniably handsome action film that it is, which is surely evidence of how far the long-running franchise has strayed from its roots. There’s always a risk of overpraising a film and skewering expectations. Nevertheless, this $5 million indie gem stands as the best science fiction film in recent years – thematically complex, dramatically satisfying and a riveting piece of a cinema.

Entertainment Value: ** (out of two)

Technical Quality: ** (out of two)
Gold Star Recommendation!

Moon. Directed by Duncan Jones. Written by Nathan Parker. Story by Nathan Parker and Duncan Jones. Starring Sam Rockwell, Kevin Spacey, Dominique McElligott and Kaya Scodelario. 97 minutes. Rated R for language.

Frédérik invites you to discuss “Moon” and more at his blog.