I don't want to know. Ever. I've got enough to worry about as it is.
Overwhelmingly joyous, or heart-crushingly awful, please, whatever you do, don't ruin the ending. Whether we're talking a DVR'd sporting event or a new theatrical release, the less I know the better. And if this happens to be Big Fish and you're the old lady with the eye, do us both a favor, and don't flip up that patch. There's not a single cell in my brain curious to know when my heart will beat its last beat.
But when we do get to the end, when the big show's over and the house lights come on? At that point? Yeah...
...feel free to explain everything to me. And don't leave anything out.
I'm not entirely sure what to make of many of the events in director Denis Velleneuve's latest film, Arrival, but I'm quite positive I loved what they coalesced into. Bordering on hypnotic, this mysterious piece of science fiction has stayed with me long after the credits rolled. And try as I might, I can't seem to shake much of what I saw...even if I can't make sense of it.
Amy Adams is Dr. Louise Banks ('plays' felt like the wrong word), a linguistics professor quietly trudging through life at a small university. Shortly after twelve massive spacecraft appear all over the globe, the United States military recruits Dr. Banks in an attempt to communicate with the extraterrestrial visitors. Banks is reluctant, but knows she is the best person for this impossible mission. Moments after taking the job, Banks is whisked away to Montana, where the 1,500 foot ship awaits her.
Like falling down a rabbit hole in glorious slo-motion, Arrival has this dreamlike trajectory that is simultaneously serene and utterly intense. At first glance, a film about the relationship between words (and time?) may not seem like something to propel one to the edge of their stadium seat, but exhausted as I was, that's where I found myself. Every action, every conversation, Hell, just about every moment carries a weight that's rare in a mainstream science fiction film. From start to finish, everything matters.
Overwhelmingly joyous, or heart-crushingly awful, please, whatever you do, don't ruin the ending. Whether we're talking a DVR'd sporting event or a new theatrical release, the less I know the better. And if this happens to be Big Fish and you're the old lady with the eye, do us both a favor, and don't flip up that patch. There's not a single cell in my brain curious to know when my heart will beat its last beat.
But when we do get to the end, when the big show's over and the house lights come on? At that point? Yeah...
...feel free to explain everything to me. And don't leave anything out.
Amy Adams is Dr. Louise Banks ('plays' felt like the wrong word), a linguistics professor quietly trudging through life at a small university. Shortly after twelve massive spacecraft appear all over the globe, the United States military recruits Dr. Banks in an attempt to communicate with the extraterrestrial visitors. Banks is reluctant, but knows she is the best person for this impossible mission. Moments after taking the job, Banks is whisked away to Montana, where the 1,500 foot ship awaits her.
Like falling down a rabbit hole in glorious slo-motion, Arrival has this dreamlike trajectory that is simultaneously serene and utterly intense. At first glance, a film about the relationship between words (and time?) may not seem like something to propel one to the edge of their stadium seat, but exhausted as I was, that's where I found myself. Every action, every conversation, Hell, just about every moment carries a weight that's rare in a mainstream science fiction film. From start to finish, everything matters.
