Be forewarned, though they’ve been seemingly spoiled everywhere, there’s some twists in “Moon,” that are pretty major (and yes, kind of obvious by now), but just in case, some spoilers below if you’re living under a rock.
Sam Rockwell plays Sam Bell, a man who (we learn through a canny faux commercial that runs at the start of the movie) harvests the energy-replenishing helium-3 gas on the moon that is rocketed back to earth. (The inconvenient truth of fuel shortages and global warming is now an afterthought). Instead of the austere, clinical-white Kubrick look we’ve all come to know, the facility is a place that was once futuristic and cutting-edge but is now worn and shaggy, like a derelict pavilion at EPCOT Center, full of soot and debris — space is actually pretty dirty. His only companion is Gerty, a sentient, robot with a smiley-face screen that’s voiced with tranquil breeze deliberation, by Kevin Spacey.
As the film begins, Bell is nearing the end of his solitary three-year assignment on the moon, and is starting to go a little understandably bonkers. He sees strange visions and talks to himself. And what’s worse — the video communication line to his family back on Earth, is on the fritz. Out investigating one of the harvester’s malfunctions, Sam’s moon buggy is involved in a crash. Waking up in the base’s medical bay, he goes out to look at his damaged buggy and finds the unthinkable inside — a doppelganger of himself, bruised and bloody.
He takes the stranger back to the base tries to get to the bottom of this mystery. Is he seeing things? Or is there a larger conspiratorial plot against our lonely astronaut hero? Saying anymore would ruin the kicky, twisty fun of “Moon.” It is okay to say that things get considerably weirder and that there are no bullshit psychobabble cop-outs. This is serious sci-fi that takes itself very seriously (but not humorlessly), and that was very refreshing. It’s not trying to be anything it’s not.
Jones (the son of David Bowie and Angela Bowie if you hadn’t heard by now) directs the movie with an assured hand and full knowledge of what he’s referencing and where his movie comes in the cinematic canon —movies like “Silent Running” and “2001” are referenced pretty liberally, and this does not feel like the work of a first-timer struggling to find his way. (You could also play Electric Light Orchestra’s 1981 concept album Time as an alternate soundtrack.) But these throwbacks don’t hinder the originality of the story, which is totally engaging, largely thanks to Sam Rockwell’s loony, endearing, and emotionally grounded performance(s). This movie lives or dies by Rockwell’s convictions, and as a strung-out astronaut, he fires on all cylinders. It’s also Rockwell’s lively, nimble zaniness that also keeps the movie from ever becoming too dour. If you happen to dislike this actor for some odd strange reason, you’d probably be fucked here, he’s literally onscreen for every second of the picture.
As far as directorial debuts go, “Moon” is a stunner. Shot on a shoe-string budget, Jones directs the movie beautifully — the moon as shot by cinematographer Gary Shaw is an eerie, alien landscape that mirrors our hero’s psychological detachment. The visual effects are impressive without ever being overwhelming (with lots of models and miniature work – yes, none of that CGI bullshit and it pays off, big time), and the impressive score by Clint Mansell accomplishes an equally impressive feat – it’s spooky and lugubrious — hinting at the loneliness of this long distance moon miner — but not show-offy. While grand, it’s also relatively low-key and understated compared to mainstream sci-fi which is actually nice and leaves room for strong character texture (characters generally being the lowest rung on the sci-fi ladder, where tone, mood, plot and effects go first).
Ultimately, the movie is extremely admirable but also somewhat crushed under the weight of its cinematic forbearers, at the end of the day, there’s sometimes an overwhelming feeling of same-old-shit-ness. And that been there, done that sensation was totally missed by those early, super-exuberant reviews from the geek community. It’s a praiseworthy B movie, not the end all, be all. That said, if the film does feel routine at times, it also possess dimensional contours and quirks (that aren’t “quirky”), and a peculiar rhythm — much of which you can thank Sam Rockwell’s charming loopiness for — that imbue the picture with a commendably original and idiosyncratic voice. More good things are sure to come from this filmmaker [B+] – Drew Taylor
This one hits in limited release — New York, L.A. — this weekend, so be patient and be sure to check it out when it rolls into your town. It feels like a picture that will have strong legs on the indie circuit.
