For over a century, cinema has had the ability to take us into the strangest, most surreal places imaginable. When we press play, we’re transported to unknown worlds that could either find us opposite Abraham Lincoln as he passes the Emancipation Proclamation, or visiting a distant planet with John Carter. There are endless possibilities when the right artist is on a project, allowing the human experience to be tested, questioning reality as they believe that magic exists for two hours. The emotions overwhelm us as we explore the unknown and come away with a deeper understanding. Sometimes it takes confronting evil clowns to understand our deeper fears…
…or, it just requires being submerged with Kristen Stewart.
Stewart stars as Norah, the protagonist of the claustrophobic monster thriller Underwater (2020). Along with a crew of scientists, she embarks on an oceanic experience to study what the Marianas Trench holds. It is the deepest point in the world, and what lies down there is unknown to mankind. It isn’t just the creatures that swim around their hubs tubed together by pipelines. When you’re that far underwater, the very idea of time loses all meaning. Is it daytime, nighttime, mid-afternoon? Without any semblance of even an hour or minute, the journey wears on Norah as she falls into a depression. She has no reason to return to land when this is over. Her loved ones are dead. What even is there to keep her going?
That is where the story begins, Norah in voice-over talking about her personal woe as she wanders around a locker-room and prepares for the day ahead. When she finds a spider in the sink, she contemplates drowning it before having a moment of sympathy. It’s something that she’ll be using for the rest of the journey, sacrificing the lives of others above her own. Even in her saddened state, she has an awareness of how much the world around her has to lose. This is just as much for her benefit as it is hers.
The inciting incident doesn’t take long. All it takes is a quick establishment before the first explosion goes off. Chaos ensues as suddenly Norah and Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) have to cross the dangerous ocean floor to the escape pods. They’re about a mile away and their protective hubs are starting to fall apart. The electricity is going out, the pipes are flooding with falling debris, and outside are unfathomable forces waiting to chomp down on their head. For the first stretch of the film, it’s Norah and Rodrigo wandering around in uncertainty. The darkness overwhelms as they finally begin to find stragglers that make up their team, slowly giving us more information that we need to survive.
While Norah is more of a dramatic character, the film works as a schlocky b-movie thanks to its mix of high-concept buffoonery and seriousness. You buy into what doesn’t work because of the ticking clock scenario. If Norah and crew don’t make it to the escape hub, they’ll be dead. They have limited supplies of oxygen and can’t afford to panic at any moment. It’s why Norah seems perfect for the role, as her heart rarely appears to rise even as she enters another jump scare. Meanwhile, there’s Paul (T.J. Miller), who serves as comedic relief. While the supporting cast writes him off as your lovable asshole, Paul’s humor does get grating even as he compensates with endearing gestures, such as giving mementos to crew members like Emily (Jessica Henwick). He may be incompetent, but he has a heart.
In some very clear ways, the journey ahead is just a submerged homage to Alien (1979), presenting narrow and dark corridors as a landscape of danger. At one point Paul returns from outside with an unknown creature who is initially studied before a violent outburst. Similarly, the average hallway becomes more dangerous the further along things go. It may be a straightforward story with the video game logic of reaching your destination, but it splices in these moments of humanity that keep it from being an empty experience. Even if none of these characters are particularly memorable, they all have something vulnerable and tangible about them that makes you care.
Of course, it should be known that this is a film that falls on the pulpier side of thrillers. It plays into our base emotions and desire to see humanity overcome its own follies. This is in large part indicative by the setting, which is implausible the more that you think about it. Would there really be a base in the Marianas Trench and would they actually let humans down there? Of course not. It seems just as implausible as having Stewart decked out in nothing but her underwear for the entire journey while her supporting cast has more modest wardrobes. This may be because of their diving gear having limited space inside, but even then it’s the type of decision that explains what this film is. It’s not going for seriousness. Just go along with it and you’ll have a good time.
With a quarter of the cast, Gravity (2013) covers similar ground from another perspective. Up above our skyline in outer space is Ryan (Sandra Bullock), who begins the story working on a satellite with the wise-cracking Matt (George Clooney). There is enough detail to establish set-up before the audience is bombarded with the peril. Debris collides all around them. Without any safety net, Ryan is about to be thrust into the vast wasteland of space. We’re drawn in, watching her helplessly spin through the universe as director Alfonso Cuaron’s camera zooms in on her, eventually settling inside her helmet before exiting to find a new form of claustrophobia in her panicked face.
If she didn’t have Matt, she’d be dead. Much like Underwater, the journey is straightforward: get to the escape pod. In both circumstances, it also involves traveling to different hubs with the hope of finding signals that will help them communicate with outside forces, who can guide them away from the bombarding forces that make this simple mission into something difficult. Lives are sacrificed along the way and each hub serves as a moment of rest from the chaotic nature of the world around them.
What makes Gravity unique in experience isn’t just that it’s the journey of one woman as opposed to a crew. It’s that Cuaron’s film was practically born into a narrative of being one of the most revolutionary experiences that cinema had to offer. If you didn’t see this in IMAX 3D, what were you doing with your life? Figures like James Cameron called it the future of cinema, and in a lot of ways, it was.
Just look at the technical feat of Gravity. This wasn’t the work of a director simply wanting to make pulp. He wanted to advance filmmaking in such a way that it redefined spectacle. The majority of the scenery was CGI and the zero gravity is highly convincing. Not only that, but his use of long takes that molded in and out of implausible places made one question where cameras could go. Everything about the film came with a built-in intensity because it came from a master craftsman, who knew how to manipulate the experience of a straightforward story into something richer.
That was also seen in the story, which symbolically was about something richer than the danger. Ryan’s journey is one not unlike 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) where the journey leads her to rebirth. She wants to return home to her daughter, but she will return a new person. The most indicative shot of this theory comes late in the story when Ryan pulls herself out of the suit for a brief moment of rest. As she floats around, she falls into the fetal position, a window in the background perfectly symbolizing the womb that she’s in. Add in the fact that the final moments of the film find her being berthed onto Earth where she forms her first steps and you get the sense that the world is anew.
That isn’t to say that Underwater isn’t without substance. There is constant discussion about what it means to be a leader in a time of crisis. Norah observes those around her and adapts to the role that’s required of her, not letting fear get in the way. She sacrifices herself for the chance to see everyone survive. At one point she’s even confronted with Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), who initially refuses to leave his post because of the old adage “a captain goes down with his ship.”
Norah pleads with him, believing that it’s worth leaving because of the family that he has at home. In these moments Underwater contemplates the value of human life in ways parallel to Gravity, though without nearly as much attention to technical craft. There are few clever shots in this that you wouldn’t find in the delightful b-movies of January and February. By the end, the writing does enough of a good job of convincing you why Norah is staying behind. Small decisions have informed this moment, such as the spider or Captain Lucien, and her sacrifice is noble even if it’s ultimately tragic.
In what is probably the biggest difference between the two stories is how each end. While both feature them escaping to land, Gravity has a bit of ambiguity. In both cases, they do reach the Earth, but nobody is sure what happens once Ryan takes those first few steps. How different is the world, and will she ever find her daughter? Better yet, does she even know where she is? Meanwhile Underwater ends with the affirmation that our protagonist is dead. However, those survivors have made it to land and a series of Godzilla (2014)-style newspapers reveal how the mission is being looked into for a better understanding of what happened.
In some respects, both films appeal to the same type of person. It’s the type who enjoys a ticking clock story where you want to see how characters escape their claustrophobic settings. In both cases, they are limited by the worlds around them. They can’t run free because of a lack of oxygen and safety that they could run through. They need to think with strategy and it relies on human instinct in an uncertain time to get through.
The biggest difference between both is that Underwater is a confident piece of schlock. It knows how to use its limited means to create horror. It also has the gift of a strange sea creature that we don’t fully understand but know in our hearts that it must be destroyed. It’s straightforward in its emotional viscera, and that’s enough to get by. Gravity meanwhile comes across as a human drama set atop the thriller, adding an art house quality to the big-budget as intimate moments reveal so much more about character.
Underwater has them, but they lack a deeper nuance. Moments where Ryan is seen talking to a man over a speaker is the most indicative, as she tries to call for help only to realize that he doesn’t speak English. There is a hopelessness that comes not just from her journey, but the uncertainty that she’ll find any solace when she gets back to Earth. She’ll be a stranger in a strange land. Meanwhile Underwater presents it with Paul’s various mementos, doing his best to symbolize what each person means to him during this journey. There’s a shared bond, but it’s for very little except emotional support.
In a time where we feel confined to our homes and the outside worth threatens to kill us with unknown forces, films like Underwater and Gravity play into our human desire to find hope in a hopeless scenario. Both are intense thrillers that exist to push us into an unknown journey that may lead us to safety. We’re as drawn in by its success as the potential failure along the way. The major difference is that Gravity managed to prove how much more can be done with better craftsmanship and storytelling. With simple tools, it not only worked in such a way that it kept us on the edge of our seat, but we had a better understanding of humanity within the situation. Underwater is fun too, but it definitely could’ve used a little more focus.
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