Another Earth (2011)

The history books claim that at one time popular belief was the world was flat. It was believed that if explorers found themselves reaching to the edge of our known planet, they would simply fall off into nothingness. Through trial and error, science, and reality, we know that not to be true. History also stated that popular belief was that the Earth was the center of the universe; that all planets (and suns) rotated around us. Again, through science, astrology, and exploration, we know that not to be true. Another Earth, this year’s low-fi sci-fi mumblecore film, takes these known truths and seems to spin them into a world of doubt and question. What if another planet showed up next to us? What if that planet showed signs of life? What if that planet looked just like Earth? Finally, what if was inhabited by us? These are the tough philosophical and personal questions posed in nearly the middle of this film, and surprisingly Another Earth rarely bothers to answer them. Instead, director (and co-writer) Mike Cahill turns the story inward and shows us that despite popular belief, we are not the center of our own universes.


Like what Primer did for time-travel or what Cold Weather did to the mystery genre, Another Earth attempts to do with the philosophies of space. There is no question, this is a science fiction film, but it does not follow the Hollywood standard. This is an emotional film that uses the fear of the unknown (aka the darkness of destiny) and turns it toward us, the viewers, and also into our neo-hero Rhoda Williams. It becomes a story about having the world tightly wound within your hands, but within a split second, everything can change. Williams was just accepted into M.I.T. the night Earth 2 arrived. The surprise of another planet coupled with a few drinks brought her world crashing down when she slammed into John Burroughs’ car, instantly killing his pregnant wife and child. Four years later, she is released from prison to return home; directionless, full of shame, and wanting to apologize, she arrives at the doorstep of Burroughs’ home under the ruse of a housekeeper. Since the accident occurred when she was a minor, her personal information was sealed, and thus the two are complete strangers with a history. As time develops, and broken as they are, Burroughs and Williams begin to heal together, individually working through the tragedy that destroyed their known worlds. Meanwhile, Earth 2 gets closer and closer, and the secret it holds becomes a startling reality.


Director Cahill has crafted a low-budget film that picks at your mind and personal beliefs. It rigidly paints two flawed characters trying to stand despite the weight of this world on their shoulders. Another Earth is a film about choices, about the subsequent outcomes of those actions, and the stemmed belief that if you didn’t look up at Earth 2 that eventful night, would life have taken a different course? From the beginning you realize this is not going to be an easy film to watch. With dark lighting, an abundant use of greys and blacks, the ever-popular shaky camera to build tension and lengthy scenes of staring into the void of the other planet, Another Earth grabs first and barely gives you time to question.


The tense chemistry between Marling and Mapother adds another dynamic layer to this film and continues to blur that line between drama and science fiction. The turmoil is so deep, so devastating between our two central characters that the only plausible escape comes in the form of a raffled trip to the water-based planet. When the trip offers more than just sights, but philosophical interaction with yourself, Another Earth hits a new note all together. It becomes a thinking film. To me, this is where Cahill begins to shine, and Marling’s script becomes genuine. The interjection of Purdeep into Williams’ world shows that accepting your choices and actions can be a viable solution to life. His screen time and interaction in this film is so small, yet his message is the crux of what Another Earth is trying to tell us. A single word written on the hand of a self-inflicted blind/deaf man spells the surrounding truth to Another Earth.


The ending, without being a strain, is a bit on the cliché side, but it is what the moment represents that will pull at your mind muscles. Is Earth 2 truly identical? Another Earth is a strong entry into the minimalist sci-fi cinema realm, and I am excited to grow with the work of Marling both behind the screen with her writing as well as what she can accomplish as an actor. Despite a small gripe of the Earth 2 image hanging in the sky too much (I knew it was there – did I constantly need to be reminded?), I feel this film opens the doors to great discussions as well as detailed “new” theories. For this critic, that is how films are evolving today – not only was Another Earth entertaining to view, but is it something that you could discuss with friends afterwards. A film fails if you walk away with nothing to say. My question to anyone reading is: Was there really an Earth 2?