'The Martian' is entertaining but lacks awe
When I first heard that Ridley Scott would be directing the movie adaption of Andy Weir鈥檚 science fiction novel 鈥淭he Martian,鈥� starring Matt Damon as a NASA botanist stranded on Mars after a sandstorm forces his crewmates to abort the mission, I assumed we were in for another outer space gorefest a la 鈥淎lien.鈥� Instead, what we have is almost jocular 鈥� a semiserious survivalist jaunt studded with wisecracks.聽
In some ways, this is a relief. After intergalactic thudders like Christopher Nolan鈥檚 鈥淚nterstellar,鈥� that black hole of ponderosity, I was more than willing to sit back and enjoy a no-frills space adventure without all that metaphysical hoo-ha.聽
For much of the way, Scott鈥檚 3-D movie, which takes place over two years and was written by Drew Goddard, plays like a nuts-and-bolts manual for how to stay alive, Robinson Crusoe-style, on Mars. Damon鈥檚 Mark Watney, left for dead after being impaled by a communications antenna some 18 鈥渟ols鈥� (Martian days) into the mission, manages to subsist on the Red Planet through sheer force of cunning. Even though, as a botanist, he was the least tech savvy of his crewmates (played by, among others, Jessica Chastain and Michael Pe帽a), his skills prove indispensable in isolation.聽
He recycles his own waste to fertilize potatoes, burns rocket fuel to create water, and in general manages to create enough sustenance to theoretically last him until the next planned mission nearly four years away 鈥� that is, until the inevitable disasters (Martian frost, chemical explosions) upend his plans. Eventually, after much NASA haggling, a round-trip rescue mission is engineered by his earthbound crewmates, who were late in learning of his survival and guilt-ridden at having left him behind.
Mark鈥檚 survivalist spunk is so upbeat it鈥檚 almost creepy (though not intentionally so). He jokes to himself in homemade videos and ruefully notes that his only source of entertainment are the disco hits and 鈥淗appy Days鈥� tapes left behind by his crew. While he occasionally mentions in passing that his chances of staying alive are slim, for the most part he鈥檚 sunny and upbeat. (Had he already read through the script?) He takes perverse pride in the fact that, on this planet, whatever he does or wherever he goes, 鈥淚鈥檓 the first.鈥� 聽
Entertaining as the movie often is, this all-American, can-do attitude is also the source of its shortcomings. Given the enormousness of its subject, there is a radical lack of awe in this movie. Norman Mailer once groused about Apollo 14 astronaut Alan Shepard鈥檚 hitting a golf ball on the moon, as if the act was insufficiently respectful for such a transcendent enterprise. I kind of agree. The same problem exists in 鈥淭he Martian,鈥� which is also transcendence-challenged. The film showcases Mark as a spunky jokester, conveniently without even a family back home to pine over. He鈥檚 a gumption machine. (The film鈥檚 anthem, I鈥檓 sorry to say, is Gloria Gaynor鈥檚 鈥淚 Will Survive.鈥�)
Although the film is pretty good at being scientifically sound without boring us, its optimistic agenda goes awfully easy on the actual conditions on Mars. In a recent New York Times op-ed titled 鈥淟et鈥檚 Not Move to Mars,鈥� writer Ed Regis, pooh-poohing futuristic talk about colonization of the planet, calls Mars 鈥渁 veritable hell for living things, were it not for the fact that the planet鈥檚 average surface temperature is minus 81 degrees Fahrenheit.鈥� Obviously he didn鈥檛 figure on Mark and his fertilized potatoes.
The question of just how transcendent sci-fi movies should be is a tricky one. I thought 鈥淕ravity,鈥� not nearly as scientifically sound as 鈥淭he Martian,鈥� was just fine as long as the astronauts were loop-the-looping in broad arcs through silent space. It鈥檚 when George Clooney and Sandra Bullock opened their mouths, and out popped Hollywoodspeak, that matters came crashing earthward. Sci-fi movies that try to be trance-outs, like Stanley Kubrick鈥檚 鈥�2001鈥� or Andrei Tarkovsky鈥檚 鈥淪olaris,鈥� are at the opposite end of the sci-fi movie spectrum from 鈥淭he Martian.鈥� They get the awe part all right, but just as often they up the snooze factor.
Perhaps the best mix, for me, was Steven Spielberg鈥檚 鈥淐lose Encounters of the Third Kind,鈥� which at least fit my temperament for this sort of thing: It was extravagantly funny but also awestruck with wonderment about the great beyond. Scott, for all his visual panache, has never been a depth-
diver. His movies, even the most effective of them 鈥� 鈥淏lade Runner,鈥� the most harrowing New World dystopia on film 鈥� are all on the surface. 鈥淭he Martian鈥� plays to both Scott鈥檚 strengths and weaknesses. By relegating Mark鈥檚 predicament to a purely survivalist scenario, he keeps things humming along without ever widening the horizon. But there was an obligation to widen the horizon. I didn鈥檛 come out of this movie humbled, awed, frightened, or transported. Scott is hitting golf balls in the galaxy. Grade: B (Rated PG-13 for some strong language, injury images, and brief nudity.)
