Duncan Jones’s Moon is thoughtful, affecting science fiction, held together by Sam Rockwell’s sharply judged performance. The suspense slackens once the puzzle becomes clearer, but the loneliness remains painfully convincing.
Moon is affecting, carefully made science fiction, with Sam Rockwell giving its questions about identity a recognisable human urgency. Duncan Jones keeps the drama close to Sam Bell, isolated in space and increasingly uncertain about himself. We recommend it, with a reservation about how steadily it moves once its puzzle begins to yield answers. Its 97 minutes leave room for a patient performance and a few welcome jokes.
Rockwell is convincing because he does not make loneliness look noble. There is low-key humour in his performance, along with a need for company that can be awkward to watch. We were moved by his exchanges with GERTY, the computer voiced by Kevin Spacey. Rockwell makes the effort of talking to a machine feel painfully necessary, while Spacey’s eerie delivery leaves us unsure how much comfort such company can provide.
Gary Shaw’s cinematography gives the confined setting an oppressive feel, even when there is little physical action. Tony Noble’s production design uses a familiar screen version of the future, which is useful here: we can accept the surroundings without pausing to admire each invention. The place feels capable of wearing someone down. Anyone hoping for a new idea of what space might look like will find plenty they recognise, but the setting serves this particular man’s loneliness well.
Nathan Parker’s screenplay benefits from its dry humour, which gives Rockwell something to play besides distress. The dialogue is sharp enough to keep the contained drama from turning into a succession of questions about existence. Nicolas Gaster’s editing allows the performance room, although the pace becomes less assured as the mystery clears. Clint Mansell’s score helps make that slower stretch affecting, keeping our attention on Sam’s distress when the plot offers less suspense.
The slackening is the main fault, and it matters because the film initially encourages us to expect a tightly sustained mystery. Once Sam’s situation becomes clearer, Jones and Parker do not always find an equally compelling reason to move into the next scene. The dialogue remains engaging, but several stretches feel as though they are waiting for the plot to catch up. We would have welcomed more suspense in these passages, without wanting the film to abandon its quiet approach.
Moon belongs to the thoughtful, enclosed sort of science fiction associated with Solaris and 2001: A Space Odyssey. The computer’s voice alone is enough to invite comparisons with the latter. Those resemblances can become distracting when the pace drops and we have more time to notice them. Jones has chosen influences that suit his story, though, and Rockwell’s vulnerability stops the discussion of identity becoming remote.
A quiet evening suits Moon. It asks for enough attention that a running conversation over the top of it would be a waste of Rockwell’s work. The modest scale is part of the pleasure, although anyone wanting sustained thrills should adjust their expectations. Put the phones aside for this one.
