In a galaxy far, far away, sci-fi fantasies were thoughtful and entertaining. Even Star Wars had plotting and character; even The Matrix grasped at vague themes about humanity in between giving us images of cyborg-scorpions bursting out of people’s stomachs. At some point in recent years, there was a split and a thinking man’s sci-fi like Moon wound up in the arthouse while multiplex audiences got their brain cells burnt to a crisp by Transformers . Accumulating awards and plaudits at a breakneck speed last year, Mike Cahill’s feature film debut aims decidedly for the former market with its brand of indie melodrama and sombre, ground-level approach to science fiction.
In Another Earth , the world wakes up to find an exact replica of our planet (imaginatively titled Earth 2) staring down at us from space. This is promptly followed by the news that a wealthy Richard Branson-type is financing a competition for one lucky plebeian to accompany a group of astronomers on a visit. Unusually, the premise is only used as a background to discourse, an underscore to the bonds of a tragic relationship which starts when a young student named Rhoda (Brit Marling, who doubles up as co-writer) drunkenly causes a car crash, putting a stranger named John (William Mapother, who most will recognise as ‘that guy from Lost) in a coma and killing his wife and child. Things become more complicated when Rhoda attempts to apologise to John – who has rather conveniently come out of his coma, yet remains oblivious to the young scallywag who murdered his wife and kid – but she falters and somehow becomes his housecleaner (suspension of disbelief as regards to the existence of Earth 2 is seeming pretty easy now, isn’t it?)
As the relationship unfolds, the film confronts us with moral, existential and emotional conundrums: this is where the script tries to distinguish itself from the box-ticking, action-packed genre. Instead of becoming a lame high-concept, kinetic kind of movie (see: The Island – better yet, don’t see it), Earth 2 is cast as the source of Rhoda’s potential salvation. Forgiveness and second chances are the central themes at play and they feel like appropriate, if clichéd targets in our culture of judgement. Acknowledging the inherent irony to complain now, the film still feels lacking in many key areas — for one, it’s striving to be Tarkovsky’s Solaris, stylish, languorous and moody, but it never quite manages to meet the expectations of its escalating tension. There are lots of intimate sequences to enjoy here, mostly revolving around Rhoda’s guilt-trips, but these take precedence over the premise and the intriguing concept at its core. As is the case with many self-consciously indie films, Another Earth gives itself a licence to explore, but dares quite little.
TWO STARS
