Beaks here...

Duncan Jones's sci-fi flick MOON drew lots of raves at January's Sundance Film Festival. As you probably know by now, it's the story of an astronaut (Sam Rockwell) who, on the verge of completing a three-year mission on the surface on the moon (with only the ship's computer to keep him company), makes an alarming discovery that suggests he may be stranded out in space for the rest of his life. There's actually more to it than that, but I've been told by people who enjoyed the film that it works best if you know next to nothing about the narrative. Having watched the trailer, I can see how that might be the case.

So while I really want you to read DrTuring's thoughtful (and quite positive) review of Jones's film, depending on your threshold for spoilers, you might want to wait until you get to see MOON for yourself. Can you hold out until June 12th? I'll leave that to you. For now, here's DrTuring (and I should note that he avoids significant spoilers)...

Do you ever get the feeling that we're in the midst of a nerd crisis?
Every which way you look the nerds haven't just gotten revenge,
they've unfortunately pushed the underdog that thrives on imagination
and intelligence to the forefront of pop culture. There are I heart
nerds t shirts astride nubile non asperger afflicted bodies and minds.
Meatheads discuss their laptop specs instead of installing headers in
their Pontiac. The beloved nerd properties are the expensive ones and
the amazing San Diego comic con is still an exceptional mindblowing
experience but it's hard not to feel the encroachment of money every
year, corrupting calculated marketing money which doesn't give two
shits for why something is loved so much as whether or not it looks
exploitable. The nerds have won, hallelujah. And I live in a world
where I can declare that I love Battlestar Galactica without being
mocked. At least until they hear I'd stay in Friday nights to watch
it.

But the gadget blogs and genuinely attractive young women with elvish
tatoos should be the promised land I always hoped to live in. And I do
for the most part especially when I think that I - a Kim Stanley
Robinson reading Babylon 5 apologist who has actually painted lead
miniatures - have a wonderful girlfriend who not only tolerates but
shares in my obsessive quest for Japanese toys and seeing a restored
Blade Runner. It's about time we got over the nerd insecurity and
admitted to ourselves that Spielberg and Jobs and Jim Cameron and the
Woz and even Obama made the nerd the true 21st century hero. There is
no stigma to being a geek at all any more. So we should stop acting
like we're picked on and enjoy this new status quo where not only does
collecting comic books no longer render one celibate, Megan fucking
Fox visits the Aspen comics booth.

And yet.

As a true dyed in the wool actually bullied for writing in Tolkiens
dwarvish runes and drawing the power loader from Aliens in 4th
grade... That kind of nerd... I love to bitch and moan and will only
ever be happy when JC rises again. Talking about James H Cameron of
course. I can't be happy with the state of things. I need to bitch
every day about my bitter dissapointment in people not seeing the true
genius in a squid induced apocalypse.

Cause I can't but help feeling that the surface aspect of nerd culture
is triumphant and not the depth. The reason so many adaptations suck
is because TPTB want the surface glossiness and vision of genre but
none of the depth, the challenge, the essential foundational
passionate curiosity that lies at the heart of every great genre
story. There are always some that sneak through. But we're awash in
nerdvana that visualizes but doesn't colonize relentlessly the
imagination. For all my jokes about my nerd past, the general public
year to year spends more time in it's collective unconscious hoping to
see marginally talented rich people fuck up their private lives while
blinking over the fact that we've discovered Mars had water.

Where the fuck is our new Cronenberg or Gilliam or even given he's one
of the most successful directors ever - where is a young and hungry
next James Cameron? Where are the visionaries who earned it? And while
we've had some fantasy masterpieces the past few years... Why is it
that science fiction film still only barely scrapes at what the best
scifi writing has to say about the human condition? Where is that
film?

I believe someone has finally made that film. "Moon". They did it with
independent financing and a reported low budget that sounds
embarassing.

It's a minor imperfect miracle that's hardly going to be able to
compete this summer with some expensive depictions of literally
animated shapes of inhuman metal fighting each other. It's opening in
two cities only and whether the rest of you get to see it will depend
on that run. And goddamit if you love scifi then please see this
movie. Let's be clear: this is a first feature and is in no way
comparable to 2001 or Alien, which it obviously borrows from visually.
But far more importantly it aspires to the intellectual promise of
those films.

I don't want to address what happens in the film except to say that
discovering it cold is best. Yes there are spoilers about its central
conceit all over the place and I knew them going in and it's really
moot. Cause this is a film in which the twist is not even a twist.
It's a central philosophical dillemma.

And furthermore it's a chance for Sam Rockwell to finally claim
recognizance as one of our phenomenally talented actors. The greatest
special effect in this movie is Rockwell's performance. It's so brave
and nuanced that he blinds you to how tremendously difficult it
must've been. Some moments feel so organic I'm guessing some improv
was allowed. But then your mind gets twisted by how you could even do
that. The effect is simple but I found the performance so affecting I
felt my subconscious had been rattled by a particularly head
scratching magic trick.

Likewise Jones and Rockwell always seem to make interesting choices.
There were very few if any moments where I could reasonably predict
where the story was headed and every time the film seemed to be
setting itself up to become a rehash it would subvert that and do
something that felt right. It's as if my mind's been programmed to
expect these things to turn into a mindless slasher film or action
thriller in the final third and both Rockwell's reaction and Jones'
story doesn't do that.

Hell the best moment in the entire movie perhaps revolves around
Rockwell's only companion, a robot voiced by Kevin Spacey. Even
hearing that you think you know what that casting implies and
forebodes but what happens is truly unexpected.

The film is not perfect. I can't fault Rockwell's performance or the
effects, supposedly done for little money with a lot of MODELS hooray.
There are a few minor rough beats. And I think the script missed some
big opportunities in the final third but it's not valid so much as my
opinion of how the story should be organized at that point.
There's a beat involving deception of the robot and the station that
is staged clumsily or if shooting was really rushed that day. Sam
makes a crucial phone call late in the film and everything's firing on
all cylinders except the dialogue. Precisely jarring because there are
so few mistakes elsewhere. And the part of Sam's wife is underwritten,
a lot could've been added to the scenes of communication with someone
faraway you love, the strange petty arguments you get in over the
phone over things that aren't really important, the defensive ways
we react to being hurt by absence. But I guess I'd have to take that
up with the credited writer.

But ultimately I have to give it up to Jones for making what I am
going to guess is a very personal film. There is an earnest haunting
quality to the fundamental questions this movie asks that stayed with
me long after the screening. In our age of face to face txting and
twitter friendships we're all stranded on our own personal Moon.
Here's why I ranted about nerdiness at the start (other than wanting
to do a writeup on AICN that digresses cause you know, tradition): an
essential true loneliness and fear of the self haunts this film. I
wikipedia Jones and note he wrote a college thesis on A.I. and
consciousness and an article in popular mechanics reveals his
scientifically surmised reasons for mining regolith from the lunar
surface. The press notes make him out in his own words to be one of
the most intellectually curious directors I've read about in a long
while. If he got anything from his dad it appears to be raw intellect.
It's early days yet but if he goes on to fulfill the promise of this
first film then I'm gonna say he's the nerd Bruce Wayne. Seeing him do
his Q and A at Tribeca i wanted to prejudge him i admit but he won me
over. He's managed to sneak this out into the world instead of a
reality show or clothing line. Moon feels like a movie made for and by
true nerds, Asimov and K Dick and Ballard loving nerds. But it also
seems to have deep buried roots in a sense of exclusion and rejection
that reminds me of how we used to seek like minded company out from
our computer screens alone in our bedrooms. Hoping to find that other
person that pondered deep.

And furthermore I'll say this: Moon feels like a singular vision, a
unique voice. I can tell you aesthetically what it borrows from but
the unsettling emotions it gave me didn't feel like anyone elses work.
If you don't like this film I still think you'll agree in this.

The jury has yet to see Jones' next film but for this and Rockwell's
performance I beg and implore all my fellow social outcasts who love
astrophysics and philosophy and analog sci fi model building that you
aren't likely to see a film like this the rest of the year.

Now if you'll excuse me I need to work on my spec "Revenge of the Jocks"...

Testing you,
Drturing