What Denis Villeneuve's "Arrival" achieves is deceptively simple yet remarkable: it employs a rather common archetype of science fiction, the arrival of a new form of life on Earth, and surrounds it with the usual tropes: military implications, the fear of invasion, even the design of the aliens, which doesn't strike as revolutionary. Yet, the whole first act revolves around a simple issue: communication.
For a while, it didn't take much to establish a form of learning. In "The Day the Earth Stood Still," superhuman intelligence allowed the aliens to speak the language, while in "The War of the Worlds" or "Independence Day," malevolent intentions were established as soon as the first weapon was shot - so much for diplomacy. However, there's a latent feeling of standby, of something waiting to emerge from the silence, creating an unusual yet soothing awkwardness. It relies on one simple question: how can you interact with aliens whose language is unknown to the planet?
I appreciate this approach because it's entirely plausible, and I don't think it has ever been treated with such respect for the notion of language as it was done in the film. It also allows the heroine not to be a super-smart computer geek or an ace pilot trainee but a frail linguist expert who knows she's the best so much that she has all the trick questions to discern between a hack and a genius. She masters most languages and is genuinely curious to discover this new language from the aliens. As Louise Banks, Amy Adams delivers a fantastic performance.
And so, from the very first twenty minutes and the haunting opening, you're immersed in a territory that is familiar yet different. We are in a scenario where the stakes are known, the implications with the atomic bombs and the escalation of violence (several vessels are stationed in various regions of the world) are rendered through the panicky 'Breaking News.' While the military presence can be quite unnerving, Forest Whitaker's performance as Colonel Weber seems to portray a man of reason with professional obligations but willing to give peace a chance. Louise is also joined by Ian Donnelly, a physicist expert who believes science - not language - is the true pillar of civilization.
This dichotomy alone deserves a digression, as it opens two schools of thought: one that science and technology are the basis of civilization and the criteria on which we should judge a nation, which implies the use of force, and language, however, can reveal different visions of life that speak volumes about the way a culture approaches time, life, or whatever is taken for granted. The film will obviously side with Louise's vision if only because her proper use of language, to trick or mislead, is interesting. In one particular scene, she refers to the origin of the word "kangaroo," making a certain point about misunderstanding, and I kept reminding myself that it was an urban legend. That the film uses this known false anecdote to make a point was a clever bit, and the screenplay written by Eric Heisserer, based on the short story "Story of Your Life" by Ted Chiang, deserves accolades for it.
And so it all comes down to the first interactions and their haunting impact on the first discoverers. If the film seems to surf the wave of "plausible" sci-fi such as "Interstellar," I find the same magic as "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" (the original version), where meeting extraterrestrials is clearly shown as a sort of mystical experience. When they first enter the vessel, the laws of gravity cease to exist, suggesting an interesting new domain where science (and therefore language) will have much to face. And so we're embarked on a series of interactions where loud echoes, whizzing whale noises, and writing that takes forms of circles and strange linear patterns form a language yet to be detected. Louise develops a bond with these creatures, coined the heptapodes for their seven feet and the way they seem to splash the words on the big luminous wall.
Needless to say, all technical categories of filmmaking are blessed with competence. The sound editing, sound mixing, and cinematography add credibility to the story. Yet, it's the special effect of the writing that will certainly content most admirers, for Villeneuve really manages to create something new that captures a certain magic and yet plausibility of an extraterrestrial form, leading to the question: what are their intentions? I loved this part so much (I'm a language teacher and have always been interested in languages) that sometimes I wish the film could only be about communication. Some lines of dialogue are intellectually challenging and yet very eloquent and clear. How to ask them a question if they don't understand the notion of questioning, how to ask an intent if you're not sure they never act instinctively and so on and so forth...
The film invites so many thoughts that it's almost underwhelming to see it devolve into the usual races against the clock and apocalyptic scenes... But then one should give credit to that opening and that ending that makes everything come full circle. I dare not add anything about it except to say that the film embraces its own language and manages to slip its way from sci-fi through the supernatural in a very smooth way... But that's the power of the premise; we're eager to believe any payoff that comes from such a patient and methodical build-up, not to mention the chemistry between the characters.
And it's one thing to make the complicity grow between Louise and Ian, but you can even feel the bond between Louise and the two heptapods (Abbott and Costello) in a way that has something of "E. T." and Elliott. In a way, sci-fi has matured a lot in thirty years, but the magic is still here.
For a while, it didn't take much to establish a form of learning. In "The Day the Earth Stood Still," superhuman intelligence allowed the aliens to speak the language, while in "The War of the Worlds" or "Independence Day," malevolent intentions were established as soon as the first weapon was shot - so much for diplomacy. However, there's a latent feeling of standby, of something waiting to emerge from the silence, creating an unusual yet soothing awkwardness. It relies on one simple question: how can you interact with aliens whose language is unknown to the planet?
I appreciate this approach because it's entirely plausible, and I don't think it has ever been treated with such respect for the notion of language as it was done in the film. It also allows the heroine not to be a super-smart computer geek or an ace pilot trainee but a frail linguist expert who knows she's the best so much that she has all the trick questions to discern between a hack and a genius. She masters most languages and is genuinely curious to discover this new language from the aliens. As Louise Banks, Amy Adams delivers a fantastic performance.
And so, from the very first twenty minutes and the haunting opening, you're immersed in a territory that is familiar yet different. We are in a scenario where the stakes are known, the implications with the atomic bombs and the escalation of violence (several vessels are stationed in various regions of the world) are rendered through the panicky 'Breaking News.' While the military presence can be quite unnerving, Forest Whitaker's performance as Colonel Weber seems to portray a man of reason with professional obligations but willing to give peace a chance. Louise is also joined by Ian Donnelly, a physicist expert who believes science - not language - is the true pillar of civilization.
This dichotomy alone deserves a digression, as it opens two schools of thought: one that science and technology are the basis of civilization and the criteria on which we should judge a nation, which implies the use of force, and language, however, can reveal different visions of life that speak volumes about the way a culture approaches time, life, or whatever is taken for granted. The film will obviously side with Louise's vision if only because her proper use of language, to trick or mislead, is interesting. In one particular scene, she refers to the origin of the word "kangaroo," making a certain point about misunderstanding, and I kept reminding myself that it was an urban legend. That the film uses this known false anecdote to make a point was a clever bit, and the screenplay written by Eric Heisserer, based on the short story "Story of Your Life" by Ted Chiang, deserves accolades for it.
And so it all comes down to the first interactions and their haunting impact on the first discoverers. If the film seems to surf the wave of "plausible" sci-fi such as "Interstellar," I find the same magic as "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" (the original version), where meeting extraterrestrials is clearly shown as a sort of mystical experience. When they first enter the vessel, the laws of gravity cease to exist, suggesting an interesting new domain where science (and therefore language) will have much to face. And so we're embarked on a series of interactions where loud echoes, whizzing whale noises, and writing that takes forms of circles and strange linear patterns form a language yet to be detected. Louise develops a bond with these creatures, coined the heptapodes for their seven feet and the way they seem to splash the words on the big luminous wall.
Needless to say, all technical categories of filmmaking are blessed with competence. The sound editing, sound mixing, and cinematography add credibility to the story. Yet, it's the special effect of the writing that will certainly content most admirers, for Villeneuve really manages to create something new that captures a certain magic and yet plausibility of an extraterrestrial form, leading to the question: what are their intentions? I loved this part so much (I'm a language teacher and have always been interested in languages) that sometimes I wish the film could only be about communication. Some lines of dialogue are intellectually challenging and yet very eloquent and clear. How to ask them a question if they don't understand the notion of questioning, how to ask an intent if you're not sure they never act instinctively and so on and so forth...
The film invites so many thoughts that it's almost underwhelming to see it devolve into the usual races against the clock and apocalyptic scenes... But then one should give credit to that opening and that ending that makes everything come full circle. I dare not add anything about it except to say that the film embraces its own language and manages to slip its way from sci-fi through the supernatural in a very smooth way... But that's the power of the premise; we're eager to believe any payoff that comes from such a patient and methodical build-up, not to mention the chemistry between the characters.
And it's one thing to make the complicity grow between Louise and Ian, but you can even feel the bond between Louise and the two heptapods (Abbott and Costello) in a way that has something of "E. T." and Elliott. In a way, sci-fi has matured a lot in thirty years, but the magic is still here.