If it falls short at all, maybe it’s because The Martian lacks the raw, primal power of Alien, or the white-knuckle tension of Gravity, the film it most closely resembles in terms of genre. There have been things to enjoy in just about all of Scott’s movies since the turn of the millennium, but The Martian feels like his most satisfying, complete film he’s made in recent years. He contrasts the loneliness of Mars with the bustle of mission control at NASA (which, incidentally, is a beautifully-designed set) the gritty, stifling dust storms howling outside Watney’s enclave with the pristine silence of the Hermes.
Scott no longer has that avante garde visual style he possessed when making Alien or Blade Runner, but he still excels not just at arresting the eye, but suggesting a world that’s greater than the one in the frame. (This is, regrettably, one of those movies where everyone reads their instant messages aloud as they’re typing them out – it’s an irksome tic that the film’s pace allows us to overlook.) Where, say, Prometheus came alive only in occasional set-pieces, The Martian has a rhythm and flow, a dynamism and coherence that powers it through its more exposition-heavy exchanges. Indeed, it’s exciting to see how good Scott still is as a visual storyteller when he has a strong foundation beneath him. Sure, Watney’s fighting for survival, but he’s fighting with Abba, David Bowie and Donna Summer as his inspirational mixtape. While not quite as overtly broad and goofy as, say, Michael Bay’s Armageddon, The Martian is a film you can watch with a box of popcorn in your lap. Where Christopher Nolan spanned the universe with the Arthur C Clarke-esque Interstellar, or where Alfonso Cuaron waltzed us through his balletic Gravity, The Martian is a feel-good hymn to human ingenuity. Rest assured that this isn’t a terrifying excursion into terrifying survival, nor is it the kind of Andromeda Strain-like sombre sci-fi you might expect from the early scenes’ rapid-fire tech-speak.
But Scott also finds room to throw in the odd flourish that harks back to the desolation of Alien, with some shot compositions recalling that 1979 classic, and certain passages of Harry Gregson-Williams’s score recalling the reedy eeriness of Jerry Goldsmith’s old Starbeast compositions. That this latest excursion into sci-fi territory should contain visual and aural echoes of Prometheus is little surprise, given that Scott’s brought much of the same collaborators back from that film – among them production designer Arthur Max, cinematographer Dariusz Wolski and costume designer Janty Yates. One of the less famous supporting players gives one of the best performances look out for Donald Glover as Rich, a disarmingly eccentric maths genius who seems to spend his entire life in a small, windowless office.īecause this is a Ridley Scott film, it goes without saying that The Martian looks spectacular. Inevitably, some big names wind up in little more than cameo roles Sean Bean’s flight director Mitch Henderson stops by for a chat and a cup of tea, while Kristen Wiig pops up as NASA’s PR wizard. On the Hermes, there’s mission commander Melissa (Jessica Chastain, bringing the same stoicism she brought to Zero Dark Thirty), wise-cracking pilot Rick (Michael Pena) and Beth (Kate Mara) as a computer scientist. The sheer number of characters both travelling through space and crowded around monitors on terra firma means that screenwriter Drew Goddard can only sketch them in, but a mixture of astute writing touches and rock-solid acting means we can pick them all out at an instant.Īt NASA, there’s Teddy Sanders (Jeff Daniels) the administration’s cool-headed pragmatist mission director Vincent Kapoor (Chiwetel Ejiofor), who’s more keen to find a way to bring Watney back. Watney’s life on Mars is intercut with parallel events at NASA HQ back on Earth and on the Hermes – the ship containing the rest of Watney’s crew, now heading back home.
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