★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆
Jake Gyllenhaal returns to B-movie cinema in this weightless
but efficiently gruesome space creepie. A team of astronauts and scientists on
the International Space Station are thrilled when a probe dispatched to Mars
returns laden with samples, one of which could demonstrate proof of life on the
red planet. One such sample contains a miniscule but motionless organism. Being
characters in a creature feature, they inevitably decide to inject it with
nutrients, poke it with an electrical prod, and generally fiddle about in a way
that can only lead to much yelling and crunching.
With the creature loose on the station, the film becomes an
episodic series of chase sequences intercut with light musings on the nature of
life, as the various inhabitants of the ISS (Gyllenhaal, Ryan Reynolds, Rebecca
Ferguson et al) attempt to prevent ‘Calvin’ from reaching Earth.
With the basic premise and top-of-the-line visual effects
taken into consideration, yes, it’s little more than Alien and Gravity blended
together…but the resulting milkshake goes down well with a large popcorn.
Gyllenhaal brings his A-game, even to what may seem a step down from his recent
string of varied, comparatively arthouse roles, and Ferguson continues to build
on a promise of stardom. Reynolds is rather less impressive, but for plot
reasons as opposed to lack of ability. Hiroyuki Sanada (as in Sunshine, playing an awestruck astronaut
who can’t catch a break) never gives a bad performance, and is suitably intense.
In short, they’re all good company when Calvin gets bored of
them all moping about the Challenger disaster
(a huge misstep in an otherwise amiable script) and decides to start separating
various limbs and vital organs from their bodies. The creature is an
effectively creepy amalgamation of several we’ve seen before and the gore is
visceral and plentiful: picture the grisliest bits of Prometheus and you’re in the right ball park.
I really want to talk about the ending – because it’s the
one part of the film that draws out anything more than a plaintive “Yeugh!” or
shrill gasp – but all I can say without dropping spoilers is that you’ll never
find a more jarring use of Norman Greenbaum’s Spirit in the Sky. It’s like tacking Peter Genesis’ Carpet Crawlers onto the epilogue of The Fly. Again, I’m referring to another
piece of sci-fi because there’s barely a microbe of original thought present in
Life. But that's not a slight: it’s
schlocky and slimy and all kinds of stupid… and I had a ball with it.
