Begin scene: A man in his late forties sits reading a book
on a late summer afternoon, teenage girls and their parents mill about at the
end of another sports practice. The man,
unassuming, educated and attractive in a, “He’s kind of pudgy but cute!” way,
is a few pages into his book when a fellow parent approaches.
“Hey Tim. How are you?
What’cha reading?” the woman asks, interested in the book he holds. She approaches the table where Tim sits and
takes a chair.
Looking up from the pages, Tim’s
hazel eyes lock with the woman’s stare as he removes his fashionable glasses
and smiles. “It’s called The Martian, by Andy Weir,” Tim says. “It’s about an astronaut who gets stranded on
Mars and tries to survive,” he adds, putting his glasses back on as if to
emphasize he reads books about science.
The woman hesitates, looks at the
bespectacled man across from her and asks, “Hmm, sounds interesting. Is it a true story?”
A look of stunned confusion on his
face, Tim struggles for a response as the screen fades to black. End scene.
This vignette is true, even the
part about my hazel eyes and unassuming character. What does one say to such a question? I could only muster, “Um, er, ah – no, it’s
not a true story. But Matt Damon’s
making a movie about it!”
Matt Damon did make a movie about it. The
Martian, Hollywood’s latest science fiction blockbuster directed by Ridley
Scott, hit theaters in early October and continues to fill seats across the
globe. Just this week The Martian raised its total ticket
sales to over $170 million with no signs of abating. Granted, besting such future classics as The Last Witch Hunter and Paranormal 7 – The Haunted Bath Mat
seems like an easy task, but America loves The
Martian. And for good reason.
Based closely on Andy Weir’s novel,
originally self-published as a free eBook in 2011, the film tells the story of Astronaut
Mark Watney, played by Matt Damon, and his fellow astronauts who’re on a relatively
routine NASA mission to Mars, sampling the Martian soil and atmosphere, and doing
lots of science stuff until a ferocious wind storm threatens to leave them all
stranded – or worse. The small team, led
by Jessica Chastain’s Commander Lewis, skedaddles in an escape rocket for the
safety of its orbiting space ship and a multi-month trip back to Earth, but in
the mad dash for the departure, Mark has a run-in with an errant satellite
dish. He gets left behind, his
colleagues assume he’s dead, and Mark must figure out how to survive – either
until the unforgiving Mars environment kills him, he runs out of food or he’s
rescued by NASA.
This
movie is the exact opposite of every Adam Sandler film you’ve seen. Watching Billy
Madison makes you feel like a Mensa elder, like you’re watching dimwits make
a movie filled with morons, but The
Martian has the reverse effect – as the movie progressed, I felt more and
more like I was the clod watching geniuses solve complex, impossible problems
with pencils, slide rules and coffee.
Matt Damon not only makes water from a chemical reaction involving fire
but also uses a small nuclear reactor as a much-needed Mars Car seat warmer. During this part of the movie, I ran out of
napkins and used my socks to wipe the popcorn butter off my hands.
It's also a reminder to pay
attention in science and math class. I’d
survive 46 seconds on Mars if the same predicament befell me, 31 of them
looking for duct tape and the last 15 wondering what songs they’ll play at my
funeral, whimpering as the air seeps out of my helmet, the pressure popping my
faux-scholar glasses off my rapidly swelling science-free noggin.
Of course my lousy math SAT scores
and mildly sedentary lifestyle tendencies would have ruled me out of final
selection for the journey to the Red Planet, but I do wonder. Everyone on this ill-fated cinematic mission
to Mars had a specific skill – botany, engineering, software, spaceship piloting
– and I wonder what I’d bring to the effort.
With limited spots, chief cheesesteak maker and witty raconteur probably
wouldn’t make the cut.
Mark Watney puts his botany skills
to good use as well as his chemistry, physics, pre-calculus and navigation
capabilities, solving every problem he confronts. His dual mantras of, “Do the math,” and “Work
the problem” carry him through his many travails, and really are the thrust of
the film, the stranded astronaut walking us through his tasks as he keeps a video
diary of his time on Mars, applying copious amounts of duct tape and gumption
to hurdle most obstacles in his way. I can
identify with his use of duct tape. My
dad used so much of it that my friends referred to any brand of it as “O’Shea
Tape,” a fitting testament to a family that unspooled one massive roll of
silver tape after another in a shared desire to always repair, never replace.
The
Martian’s been so successful because we Americans would much rather watch
someone else do the science stuff than actually do it ourselves. Who cares that we rank just behind Burundi
and a garden rake in math scores? We
make kick-ass movies about smart people who do amazing things, all the while
looking awesome and saying cool stuff like, “I’m not gonna die here,” while the
disco classic “Turn the Beat Around” plays in the background. Cogitate on that, Equatorial Guinea!
Another reason we love this movie
is because it has no villains. Even the
soulless bureaucrats who usually ruin everything relent and join hands with the
sweaty brainacs at the Jet Propulsion Lab, NASA headquarters and Mission
Control in Houston. The bad guys aren’t
Nazis, zombies, angry dinosaurs or a creepy doll with missing eyes and voice
like a lifetime smoker – it’s the lack of the things we need to live that Mark
fights against – not enough air, water, food or shelter – kind of like a family
camping trip but on Mars.
In this age of pervasive cynicism
and needless rancor, any movie that combines Matt Damon, a can-do spirit,
stylish astronaut sweatshirt designs, groovy music, genuine teamwork, Fonzie,
friendly Chinese nerds and a race against the clock to survive into a story
that makes you feel like a winner will hit its mark. The Martian made me feel good about
humanity and reminded me that you can never have enough duct tape or optimism. Mars needs optimists, and so do we.
