I walk into the dank meeting room
below the community centre, the florescent strip lights highlighting the faded
patch work carpet under my feet. I nervously clutch my Costa latte – it’s too
damn late to be drinking it at this hour, but alcohol isn’t allowed at these
meetings and my nerves need something stronger than tea. I glance toward my
peers as I take a seat in a hard plastic chair, sat in a circle across from the
one friendly face in the room. Brian, our community outreach officer, nods and
smiles in acknowledgement of my arrival, but I can’t find the words to say
hello, and instead grimace and nod in return.
As the final few people shuffle
through the plywood door and take their seats, Brian claps his hands together.
I just know he’ll start with me – I was warned outside by an anonymous smoking
companion that he always begins with the newest member. “Some rubbish about ‘drawing
you out’ or something,” he’d said, as he dragged on his Marlboro. Brian looks
everyone square in the eye and I catch my smoker friend roll his eyes. He’s already
utterly jaded to this; some people just can’t be changed, no matter how often
they talk about their feelings.
“So welcome back everyone, and
since we’re a little late, let’s just jump in with introducing our newest
friend. So,” he says, gesturing to me, “Tell us a little about yourself, why are
you here?” He looks at me, pleasantly and expectantly; he’s the only one who
does. I lick my lips, take a deep breath – and begin.
“So, er… hi everyone, I’m Elspeth-”
“Hello, Elspeth,” they drone in
response.
“Right, yeah, hi. Well, I’m
Elspeth and I hate Ridley Scott films,” I breathe a sigh of relief as Brian
smiles encouragingly. I look to the slightly askew banner above his head – Ridley Scott Haters Anonymous it reads
in Comic Sans. I suppress a sneer as I note the faux jauntiness of the font.
“Tell us more, Elspeth,” Brian
says, soothingly.
“Well, I guess it started when I
saw Alien for the first time – I’d been told it was this masterwork of sci-fi
and horror, but it did absolutely nothing for me. Same with Blade Runner; I
knew I was supposed to be a cornerstone of dystopian cinema, but I couldn’t
help myself comparing it to the book, and it bugged me that, if humanity was on
the brink of extinction, how come they could fill out a cityscape of that size?
It seems like a nitpick, but it stopped me from enjoying Harrison Ford, and
that’s old school Ford up on the screen – it made me think I’d lost my mind,
but I couldn’t get behind him or the story.” I take a swig of my now freezing
cold coffee and carry on, finding that getting this off my chest at long last
was empowering.
“I tried one last time with Gladiator
– I thought that surely this’d be the one I understood the hype for. It had
such a pedigree, but still, there was something missing. Maximus is such a
noble character, he becomes impossible to relate too. I found him lacking in
any faults and though I get that’s probably the point, it’s about a good man in
an impossible situation, I get that,
it still doesn’t make him particularly knowable or even likable. So yeah, I sort
of gave up on Ridley Scott with that.”
Brian, who had been nodding like
a wobble dog the entire time I had been talking, looks at me with friendly
concern. “So why have you come tonight then? I’ve been asking you for a while
to head down to these sessions, why now?”
“Because… I saw The Martian this
week.” My smoker friend groans, and a woman to my left scoffs. Brian’s eyes
widen in suppressed shock.
“You paid money for a Scott film?
That’s against step one of our twelve step programme, did you not read the
pamphlet I sent you?”
“I know that, but it looked fun and
like Gravity, but on Mars and with Matt Damon - and I love Gravity and Matt
Damon!” The woman to my left tosses her hands up in despair as the rest of the
group shift uncomfortably. Brian holds his hand up and they settle again, but
this time they each throw me a filthy look.
“So you had a relapse, that’s
fine, that’s what this support group is for, right guys? That’s when we need
each other the most!” He says, cheerfully. He snaps back to concern as he looks
again to me. “Do you want to talk about it? Was it a very terrible experience?”
I wish I had more coffee. “Well,
it was about twenty minutes too long and there were probably too many
characters; there’s one romantic subplot that could have had more time or maybe
even jettisoned entirely.” My smoker friend mutters ‘Typical Scott…’ under his
breath. I steal myself for what I say next.
“But apart from that, it’s
probably the finest science fiction film I’ve seen in a long time.” The room
stills. I have their attention.
“Matt Damon is at the height of
his charm in it – when the film is on Mars and focuses on the problems he faces,
you really get behind him and what’s more, you like the crew who leave him for
dead when they have to abort their mission. And this makes sense; they all have
to be smart because they’re astronauts on the debut NASA Mars mission, and they
have to be likable and light-hearted
because they’re spending nearly two years together; it makes sense for them to
be making light of their situation and ribbing each other, and what’s more the
screenwriter Drew Goddard takes full advantage of this and there are some truly
enjoyable interactions within this group.
“But where the film really works
is where you get to see smart people work out impossible problems, and what’s more,
it’s not effortless for them. A huge
part of the gentle humour that runs throughout the film comes from the long
suffering Development team as they stare in horror at their encroaching
deadline, and from how Jeff Daniels and Kristen Wiig work out a way to keep the
press at bay, whilst still courting all the good PR they can. Sean Bean and Chiwetel Ejiofor only have their astronauts’ safety in mind and the dynamic this
creates is fascinating and very fun to watch. They make mistakes on Mars and
Earth and the film builds to a truly gripping climax as the margin for error
gapes like a canyon before them and you do wonder if they’ll actually get their
spaceman back in one piece.
“I guess it’s got all the human
reality of a workplace drama, but it has all the scope and excitement of a
massive sci-fi epic. Some shots are just a wonder to behold and the editing
gives a beautiful flow to the entire piece. But more important than any of
this, and what can sometimes be missing from other Ridley Scott films, is that
it has a sense of humour about itself. Though Matt Damon isn’t quite as full on
as Chris Pratt, the disco soundtrack keeps the tone light, which is probably a
lesson well learned from Guardians of the Galaxy. It really is remarkably good.”
Brian stares at me, all
friendliness abandoned, his face a blank mask. “You… you actually like it?
Really like it?” I stand and pick up my bag; I feel ten feet tall.
“Sorry Brian, you’ve been asking
me to come for ages and I really did mean what I said before – I don’t like
Ridley Scott. But the thing is, not every Scott project is the same, and the
problems I found in his other big works are just not present in The Martian.
You should all check it out, even if you do hate Ridley Scott like I did.” I
turn and, throwing my coffee cup in the bin, leave them to their support meeting.
No, I think, I will probably never get on with Alien, Blade Runner or
Gladiator, but I think, if Scott carries on making films like The Martian, even
I may call myself a fan one day.
Maybe.
