Life (15)

THERE'S a deep irony at the heart of this highly effective science fiction horror film. For we all know that despite the lofty intentions of fictional astronauts – to find new homes for humankind, or prove the existence of other life in the universe – this genre invariably deals with death.

Space is actually a crowded place at the moment, film-wise, what with the Stars Wars and Star Treks trundling out annually, and The Martian and Gravity proving huge one-off successes. So it might seem ambitious to venture another one, not least when the basic scenario – astronauts trapped in space with an icky and malevolent otherworldly beastie – is akin to Ridley Scott’s Alien template, the latest instalment of which is set for the summer.

In fact, this feels a lot like Alien meets Gravity. But while it suffers by comparison to either, director Daniel Espinosa pulls it together with a combination of genuine horror, nail-biting tension and an affecting pathos when the eureka moment aboard a space station floating above Earth proves so tragically misplaced.

The starting point is as close to science fact as fiction. The time is more or less the present and the setting is the International Space Station (which is, as it happens, floating about Earth right now). There’s a convincing sense of life on board, cramped and functional and weightless, with nothing overtly futuristic, gimmicky or fancifully retro in the technology.

The six-person crew is awaiting the arrival from Mars of an automated probe, carrying soil samples that are expected to contain irrefutable proof that there is life on the Red Planet. After an action prologue (the probe’s arrival from deep space is a little bumpier than expected), the crew excitedly opens its presents. And lo and behold, a single cell organism, which has been in hibernation and which the chief scientist is very keen to coax back to life. How they’ll all wish he hadn’t.

The monster aspect of the film is one of its strong cards. What makes the early stages so unbearably tense is that we know that the diaphanous, slippery, sweet little thing behind the glass just isn’t going to stay that way for much longer. Once it starts to grow, we’re in the familiar terrain of a creature that could pop out of a duct at any moment, a trope that never loses its stress and shock value. The creature’s form remains modest; this never becomes the physically imposing marauder that characterises the Alien films and others. But both the thing itself and its methods are no less terrifying or squirm-inducing.

This is one of those films where neither space ship rank nor Hollywood status will keep you safe. The headliners are Jake Gyllenhaal as the spaceship doctor who prefers life in a floating box to Earth, Ryan Reynolds in typically cocky, quip-ready mode as the ship’s mechanic and Rebecca Ferguson as the scientist in charge of quarantine and seeing all her best-laid plans come to nought. With their co-stars they make quite a heartbreaking band of expendables.

One of the appealing aspects of Gravity was that all of its high-thrills action was taking place above Earth – home for Sandra Bullock’s astronaut being so tantalisingly close. The same proximity here lends a different dramatic effect, as the beleaguered team must ensure that their unwanted guest doesn’t reach the planet. As one of the scientists opines sympathetically, before he realises that he’s become an endangered species: “It’s just surviving. Life’s very existence requires destruction.” One wonders why they didn’t think of that in the first place.

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