Another Earth (2011)

Another Earth is a film about two lives that were heading one direction, but once they intersected they were forever changed. This is not one of those frequently maddening “everything is connected” films, where mere coincidences are meant to be interpreted as profound. Another Earth keeps its focus on these two characters alone, and sets their story in the midst of a world-changing and hardly realistic event. This fantastical premise—a planet identical to ours is discovered and slowly moves closer—is not there simply to be clever for the sake of being clever. It represents the possibilities of what could have been; the idea that our lives could somehow be different or better if only we changed one little thing or avoided one little mistake. In the case of Another Earth, it’s just a matter of staying in the right lane.

Brit Marling—who co-wrote with director Mike Cahill—plays Rhoda Williams, a young woman who was recently accepted into MIT. After she drinks too much and decides to drive home, she crashes head-on into a car containing an entire family. The only survivor is John Burroughs (William Mapother), a musician. While Rhoda is sent to prison for four years, John sinks into a state of depression. Both have lost their will to live a productive life, and they spend much of their time willingly isolated from the world around them. What was to be a life of happiness has become one of regret and grief. When Rhoda goes to apologize to John several years later, she quickly lies and says she is instead going door-to-door for a cleaning business. He allows her in, and she carries on as a housemaid of sorts for several weeks. Instead of running away, she chooses to stay and continually clean for him. Perhaps she feels guilt, and she continues to do whatever is asked of her. She feels it’s the least she could do.

Just before their car accident, the second Earth was discovered deep in space. Four years afterward, it appears even larger in the sky. It is believed that this Earth is not just another one, but the same exact planet with the same people and same places. No one is quite sure if both planets have the same history, and therein lies the appeal to people like Rhoda. She wants to escape because she believes that it couldn’t possibly be worse than the life she has at this moment. She decides to enter an essay contest; the winner of which will be among the first to travel to the second Earth. When someone warns her that nobody knows what really exists over there, she claims that is the exact reason she wants to go. The unknown is exciting because for her, the known stinks.

The further along the audience gets into Another Earth, the more the film actively tries to alienate them. This is a film that asks us to constantly suspend disbelief—wouldn’t a second planet coming this close to us throw everything out of whack? Like, you know, gravity?—but this is a film that is aiming to provoke rather than satisfy. The addition of this extra planet is not a science fiction touch so much as it provides the film with some extra depth and emotion. It is a symbol that hangs over the characters at all times, and it provides a beacon of hope in the midst of a film that would otherwise turn into misery porn. Another Earth would have been an infuriating piece of art house trash if it simply wallowed in the sadness of it all and didn’t create the possibility of a way out. Through all the muck, the characters have a chance to ponder what could have (and should have) been. Of course, some still see this film as an infuriating piece of art house trash regardless, but there’s quite a bit to chew on if you are able to set logic aside.

Most of the film’s flaws lie on the surface, but the film’s ambition and depth more than atone for them. Mike Cahill (the film’s credited director, co-writer, cinematographer and editor) shoots the film in a way that feels almost agonizingly indie at times; using handheld cameras and zooming in and out to drive some moments home a bit too hard. Another Earth is undoubtedly an art-first, coherence-second type of film, but it would have been nice if the film occasionally toned it down. (The score by Fall on Your Sword sometimes works, but at moments it’s experimental to a fault.) Yet this is not a film that had much wiggle room as far as production goes, as the final cost was around $200,000. For perspective, Transformers: Dark of the Moon cost 975 times more.

The soul of Another Earth comes from the great performances by Marling and Mapother, who both play characters who are trying to find some reason to care about anything. It’s a film that greets every situation with the question of “what if?” What if we didn’t make those few mistakes? What if we didn’t happen across this person? What if there was a way where we could see just how great (or terrible) our lives could have been? Another Earth explores all of this in wonderfully intriguing ways, right down to the final shot which I found brilliant but will likely cause many to scream in frustration. Nothing in this film is overtly explained. The characters may ponder certain big ideas, but almost never aloud. Another Earth is not a film about what is, but instead what could be.

GRADE: A-