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.
Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy work so well together, you wonder why someone didn't get them to team up before. Here Bullock plays uptight, by-the-book FBI agent Ashburn (a character not a million miles away from the one she played in Miss Congeniality) coerced by her boss to partner with a maverick Boston cop, Mullins (McCarthy) to catch a drug lord.
According to Times columnist Sarah Vine, "forty only feels good if you're famous". "Hollywood does not reflect the real world" and, in essence, that an invisibility cloak surrounds older women who are civilians rather than movie icons. Much as I admire Sarah Vine as a writer, my response to her theory is, "oh, purleeese. Sarah", it's simply not true,