ARRIVAL. Brilliant sci-fi masterpiece by Denis Villeneuve

Arrival the description, it seems like another attempt at playing Kubrick, who set the bar sky-high with 2001: A Space Odyssey concerning the topic of a deeply scientific encounter with cosmic “unknowns,” a bar subsequent creators have been trying to reach, with varying degrees of success, over the years (Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Contact, Interstellar). Villeneuve also seems to have taken some inspiration from Kubrick, but he approaches the subject matter in his own way, without indulging in bombastic budgets (just under fifty million today is already considered independent cinema), with a complete fixation on telling the most engaging story possible, where the talking heads take the lead—and he does it brilliantly.

The main theme of Arrival, based on a story by the genre-defining Ted Chiang (a good read, albeit not very cinematic and heavily modified for the film), is the attempt to establish dialogue with aliens—presented in a detailed manner and leaning more towards “science” than “fiction.” The creators try to explain to the viewer how crucial achievements in linguistics would be in contact with an alien race—usually marginalized on screen, often overshadowed by mathematics or physics. Here, various semiotic issues and the achievements of communication theory determine the narrative, requiring the viewer to closely follow the protagonists’ actions—the script has passed through the hands of qualified linguists but is presented in such an accessible form that everyone can find themselves here and will want to deepen their knowledge after watching.

It’s almost like porn for humanists, while also being a wonderful tribute to language and all forms of communication, which constitute a crucial element of human existence and development.

Moreover, it’s not just a film about conversations with cosmic “others” but generally about the difficulties in human relationships based on a lack of dialogue, the failure to even attempt it, as the creators shift their communication experiments to clashes in the field of humanities versus hard sciences, or the mutual animosities of different countries (although these themes are somewhat superficially addressed, but I’m aware that the film isn’t made of rubber). It’s a work that makes you want to think, speculate, ask questions, and simply reach out to the other person, inquire about their interpretation of the story. Arrival poses a challenge, yet it doesn’t charge forward recklessly, nor does it revel in its brilliance—it’s incredibly coherent and ultimately surprisingly sensible.

Especially notable is Villeneuve’s excellent dose of awe. Arrival has an incredibly slow pace, at times focusing on a single moment akin to Malick, but the celebration of each frame, the slow unraveling of puzzle pieces, gives each moment its weight and value—we first wait a long time to see the ships in all their glory, then we slowly move towards meeting the aliens (fantastic designs), and in the third act, a daring plot twist awaits us, making this already intriguing film demand a rewatch. The viewer feels like one of the research team members—by the end of the screening, I had the satisfaction of someone who actively contributed to certain solutions. This only confirms the director’s narrative sense. However, I do have an issue with the excessive sentimentality of the story at times, particularly heightened before the finale, which, combined with the leisurely pace, somewhat dilutes the narrative.

All threads are woven together here and significantly marked by the human element of Amy Adams—one of the most natural actresses in Hollywood’s top tier.

She instills in the viewer her admiration for the unknown; we want to accompany her, we believe in her competence. Especially because it’s not just a story about contact with the unknown but also her story—surprising and beautiful. The rest of the cast supports her well, although Jeremy Renner, significant for the story, fades a bit compared to Adams and fits into the figure of a rather conventional physicist. Sometimes, the background also lacks interesting characters.

Once again, the visual side of the Canadian’s film makes an impression. A lot of time is spent contemplating reality here, so the frames are polished, focused on eliciting awe (but without any extravagant CGI). It may not be as virtuosic as in Sicario, but it’s hard to look away from the screen—essentially everything here is quite ascetic, but the creators make good use of it, and when something visually grabs us, it does so like a skilled serial killer (great, understated score by Jóhann Jóhannsson). Although sometimes the excessive use of a cold, blue filter, Villeneuve’s trademark, can be irritating.

Arrival clearly sails against the wind of contemporary popular SF cinema like Independence Day: Resurgence or the subsequent Transformers, where aliens want to kill humanity, and in the end, the indomitable American spirit blows everything up. Here, we maybe get one explosion and some shots in the background—this is cinema that drags at times, but every minute intrigues and captivates, every subsequent piece contributes to building an impressive whole. Arrival certainly isn’t without flaws, and some viewers might be put off by its snail-like pace—however, with the determination of an enthusiastic lecturer, it stimulates the grey matter, which, alongside the awe of the unknown (also significantly present here), is after all the greatest strength of the entire SF genre.

It’s a fairly mundane plot presented in an extraordinary way, focused on the fresh aspect of a “contact” story, and extremely aesthetic. Villeneuve definitely has the potential (similar to, for example, Jeff Nichols or Duncan Jones) to be remembered in a few decades like Kubrick, Scott, or Spielberg.