Throughout my film-going life, effects have been if not quite a dirty word for certain audiences, then one met with a weary roll of the eyes. But I've also always felt the snottiness around effects arose because they reminded critics in particular of the movies' origins as a circus entertainment, a trashy diversion designed to thrill sensation-hungry crowds.
Gravity is simply beautiful to look at, a galactic ballet, if you like. Tears float like bubbles and flames curls like tendrils of golden ringlets, and all the while planet Earth is spread out before the astronauts, an awe-inspiring tableaux. Meanwhile, Jonas Cuaron's script ups the ante at every turn, keeping us hooked and fully invested in the story all the way.
A few things will happen while watching Gravity. Your palms will become sweaty, then they may seek comfort at the sides of your face. You'll feel isolated, alone. Little wonder your breathing will become shallow. With your body empathising with the characters, this is clearly not the sort of film you can ignore.
Recently, I was listening to the story of Felix Baumgartner as I was getting ready to go to work. Baumgartner is an Austrian extreme athlete who was aiming to break the sound barrier in a supersonic skydive over New Mexico. He was planning to jump from a capsule floated 23 miles into the stratosphere by a huge helium balloon, and Chris Evans was getting very excited about it all.
Teleportation is generally understood as an immediate transfer of matter from one point in our universe to another. This method to travel through space is a speculative theory, only plausible in case of the existence of natural wormholes, i.e. flaws in the regular weave of space-time, connecting points in space that are remote from each other.