Gravity is so harrowing, I’m tempted to call it crisis porn. The movie stars Sandra Bullock and George Clooney as astronauts stranded in orbit over Earth after debris destroys their spacecraft. Director Alfonso Cuarón (Children of Men, A Little Princess) warns us from the get-go with some on-screen text that life in space is impossible, and then proceeds to throw everything you can imagine at Bullock and Clooney’s characters. They’ve got dwindling oxygen supplies, they’ve got the debris looping back around at them every ninety minutes, their spacesuits are running out of propulsion, and their connection to Huston has gone dark. There are the threats of burning alive, freezing to death, drowning, and slipping into coma. They see other members of their crew frozen solid, flesh exposed to the vacuum of space — one guy with a tidy hole clean through his head.
Julie Andrews stars in this 1920s madcap musical as the title character, a woman looking to land a job and a husband in the big city, but ends up embroiled with a nefarious white slave trader! Mary Tyler Moore is underutilized as the woman Millie has to rescue from slavery, but Carol Channing chews the scenery in a bizarre Oscar-nominated performance only she could have pulled off. The musical numbers are a little unrelated to the storyline and they do go on a bit long, but there aren’t many numbers in the movie, and I believe they’re all over before the intermission. After the intermission, things move very quickly. Director George Roy Hill (The Sting, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid) stretches out of his comfort zone so well, the last half-hour will have you wondering if Blake Edwards took over the film. It’s an intentionally silly, over-the-top sort of movie that pays off better than most of its sort.
