Film (P)Review: Gravity

I should probably start by letting you know that I haven’t actually seen this film. This review is actually more a reasoning behind why I’m not going to watch it. Based on reviews I’ve read, the trailer and anecdotal evidence of friends who’ve seen it, I am entirely sure that I have no desire to sit through this $100 million dollar critically acclaimed Hollywood Blockbuster. Here’s why -

First of all, if I wanted to watch an objectively attractive woman whom I don't find subjectively attractive (Sandra Bullock) spin around for two hours panting and moaning, I’d put my sister-in-law on a carousel without her travel sickness medication.

I also object to the notion that because this movie is expensive and in 3D, it is a “must-see”. Yes the visual effects are probably stunning, yes George Clooney is dreamy in a spacesuit, but I’m yet to see a 3D film (apart from Avatar – the exception that proves the rule) wherein the 3D actually added to my enjoyment. Instead the 3D specs, which I have to prop over my existing four eyes, darken the screen, killing contrast, masking detail and dulling the visuals in general. What’s more, most 3D films (admittedly not including Gravity) are not in fact originally shot with 3D cameras but are actually painstakingly doctored post-shoot by the visual effects crew. In Thor 2, for example, a purportedly meaningful clip of pidgeons scattering in Greenwich provides the only fragment that remotely involves 3D.

In Gravity, the 3D is allegedly used to provide depth rather than project hallucinations of debris hurling out of the screen.  This is laudable but the main aspect of this film that people seemed to enjoy was the disorientating nature of the cinematography. I don’t want to be disoriented. I’m likely in the minority here but I hate roller coasters. Originally this stemmed from a deathly fear of pissing my pants in public but later in life I realised that I’m quite happy with four feet planted on the ground and the constituent parts of my body pointing in one direction at a time. The prospect of sitting in a dark auditorium with eighty popcorn-chomping strangers, feeling as if I’m about to either implode or whirl off into nothingness whilst trying to remember which of Newton’s laws it is that’s bringing about my demise is one I dread and will do my best to avoid – even if I have to watch the Counsellor or something equally awful.