Gravity
Positive 👍
Alright, buckle the fuck up, because if you haven't seen Gravity by Alfonso Cuarón, then you’ve been floating in a damn vacuum of bad taste. Let me break this down for you, because this film is a fucking masterclass in cinematic storytelling and technical achievement that’s going to launch your brain into orbit—no goddamn exaggeration.
First off, let’s talk about the visuals, because holy shit, Gravity looks like it was shot by the gods of cinematography themselves. Emmanuel Lubezki, that beautiful genius behind the camera, managed to create something that practically defies reality. You’re up there in space with Sandra Bullock, floating and spinning and suffocating—no fucking question. The film’s long takes? Yeah, those shots are nothing short of goddamn sorcery. The opening sequence alone is a nearly 13-minute continuous shot, and it drags you kicking and screaming right into the harsh, terrifying beauty of space. It’s like you’re glued to the screen, begging for oxygen, because every second you’re thinking, “Shit, is this where everything goes tits up?”
Now, let me tell you about Sandra Bullock. I don't know what the hell she had for breakfast before filming this movie, but whatever it was gave her the power to carry the whole goddamn weight of space on her back. She plays Dr. Ryan Stone, who is alone, and I mean alone alone out there after debris blows her shuttle to smithereens. You feel every second of her isolation. This is a performance where she conveys more emotion with heavy breathing and panicked eyes than some actors do with an entire Shakespearean monologue. And speaking of panic, Gravity is like a masterclass in tension. If your heart rate doesn’t double by the time she’s tumbling through space, your pulse might be broken.
Here’s where the brilliance of sound design kicks in. Space is a giant mute button, alright? No sound because there’s no air. And this movie actually respects that fact. Every explosion, every crash—it’s all silent out there. But they crank up the interior sounds: your heartbeat, labored breathing, the little mechanical clicks inside the space suit. It puts you in Dr. Stone’s head. You hear what she hears. The silence is louder than any explosion Michael Bay could dream up, because it’s terrifying in a way that just sneaks into your bones.
And don’t even get me started on the scientific accuracy. This isn’t one of those movies where astronauts are pulling out laser guns and fighting off fucking alien space squids. Nope, this is as real as it gets. Gravity plays by the rules of physics (well, mostly, but shut up, it's a movie), meaning when Bullock is set adrift, you know she’s going to keep spinning into oblivion unless she finds something to hold on to. And that’s where the genius of Cuarón's direction comes in. This isn’t some random space thriller—it’s a goddamn survival movie, with tension more palpable than the vacuum of space itself. The stakes feel insurmountable. The realism is dialed up to 11.
But it’s not just about the visuals and sounds or even the performances—it’s the theme that fucking punches you in the gut. This is a story about letting go. Dr. Stone isn’t just trying to survive space; she’s trying to survive life. She’s lost a child, and now she’s lost in the coldest, most unforgiving environment imaginable. Her journey is symbolic as hell. She's learning to let go—of grief, of fear, of life and death. By the time she’s hurtling back to Earth, you’re emotionally wrecked, not just from the claustrophobic terror but from the emotional weight of her story.
And then there’s George Clooney. This man is just cruising through space like he owns the place, being all calm and Clooney-like. He’s the perfect contrast to Bullock’s panic, and even though he’s not around for long (sorry, spoiler alert), his presence is felt throughout. He’s like the voice of reason, or that one guy in your life who’s like, “Hey, don’t worry, I got this,” even when everything is on fire around you. And when he drifts off into space? Fuck me, that’s a moment that makes you realize just how alone Bullock really is.
Look, Gravity isn’t just a movie; it’s a goddamn experience. It’s a technical marvel that takes the best of what film can do—visuals, sound, acting, story—and slams them together into a tightly-wound package that leaves you gasping for air. It’s not just "brilliant" because it’s pretty or because the actors nail their roles (though, believe me, they fucking do). It’s brilliant because it’s a reminder of how fragile life is, how small we are in the grand scope of the universe, and how every breath we take is a goddamn miracle.
If you haven’t seen this film yet, what the hell are you waiting for? It’ll send your mind spiralling into orbit, your heart into overdrive, and when it’s over, you’ll realize that Gravity pulled you in and didn’t let go for a single second.
Negative 👎
Oh my fuckin’ God, Gravity. That 2013 film by Alfonso Cuarón that everyone lost their goddamn minds over? Yeah, that one. You remember? Sandra Bullock floating in space with nothing but heavy breathing, wide eyes, and George Clooney’s smarmy ghost-face hanging around to sprinkle some charm. Let me tell you, Gravity was the cinematic equivalent of a shiny turd that everyone mistook for gold because it was so goddamn pretty.
First of all, yes, I get it. The visuals were fucking breathtaking. It looked like you could reach out and slap a satellite in the face. But, Jesus Christ, if you peel back that beautiful CGI skin, you’re left with a story as thin as a slice of ham at a cheap deli. This movie is 90 minutes of Sandra Bullock spinning through space, desperately clinging to random chunks of debris, hoping that something more substantial than Clooney’s forced charm can save her from the goddamn vacuum of space. And SPOILER: It's a goddamn fire extinguisher. Are you kidding me?!
Now, let’s talk about the plot. Oh wait, sorry, WHAT PLOT?! "Woman goes to space. Shit explodes. She panics. Falls back to Earth." Done. That's it. Sure, there are moments where they try to inject some human drama with Bullock's character talking about her dead daughter, but let’s be real—did anyone give a single shit about her backstory? No! It was thrown in there just to make you feel something because the movie knows it doesn’t have much else going for it. It’s manipulative as hell, and it doesn’t even do it well.
And don’t even get me started on the science. Holy fuck! This is a movie that claims to be all about realism, but it’s about as scientifically accurate as a 6-year-old’s drawing of the solar system. The physics are all over the place—there’s no goddamn way Bullock’s character should’ve survived half the things she went through. Space is unforgiving, but somehow, she manages to ping-pong her way around debris fields like she’s playing a zero-gravity game of pinball. And Clooney’s character, man. Don’t tell me he HAD to let go. That’s one of the most scientifically debunked moments in recent cinematic history! I’ve seen more realistic depictions of space in old episodes of The Jetsons.
Look, I’m not saying Gravity is a piece of shit movie. It’s not. But the way people fawned over it, giving it Oscars like it was the second coming of Stanley Kubrick, was fucking absurd. The truth is, it’s all style and no substance. It’s like one of those cars that looks fast and fancy as hell but then you find out the engine is garbage. That’s what this movie is: a visually stunning, technically impressive ride with a hollow-ass core that leaves you feeling nothing once the credits roll.
Sure, it had heart-pounding moments. But when you sit back and think, “What did I actually watch?” the answer is Sandra Bullock doing space yoga in a desperate attempt to survive. And hey, the cinematography was cool, but you know what else has great cinematography? Fucking paintings. Doesn’t mean I want to watch one float around for 90 minutes.
So yeah, Gravity is overrated. It’s like people saw something shiny and mistook it for something deep.