Fear outweighs curiosity in end

FILM REVIEW by Kat (Olga Dihovichnaya) from Russia, Sho (Hiroyuki Sanada) of Japan, David (Jake Gyllenhaal) from America, and Roy (Ryan Reynolds) from ... America. The filmmakers should really have let the Vancouver native play a Canadian, especially since you can’t spell SPACE without an “Eh.”

Nationalist griping aside, there’s solid science behind the film’s plot, which imagines that a robot-collected sample of Martian soil might be dropped off at the space station for study. NASA is already deep into planning how to prevent possible terrestrial contamination by a Mars sample return mission in the 2020s.

But this is still science fiction. So when the sample is given something to eat and breathe, it quickly morphs from a single cell into a squishy blob, and then a creature that looks like Groot and Jell-O had a baby. As it grows, it next resembles a starfish, then an octopus, and finally a more repulsive creature that suggests that someone — or some thing — has been watching old Alien movies.

There’s a lot of Alien DNA in the script by Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick (Zombieland, Deadpool). It starts with the simple white sansserif title font, kerned out so there’s about a parsec between each letter and the next. There’s the way some characters are more keen than others to kill the life form — Reynolds’ suggestion is unprintable in its enthusiasm. There’s motion tracking, as seen in Aliens, and the sleeping pods resemble hibernation chambers. And for variety, there’s a lift from 2001: A Space Odyssey, in which faulty comms require one of the astronauts to venture outside for repairs.

But there’s enough originality to keep things moving along, at least until a final act whammy. (More on that in a moment.) Gyllenhaal, whose dedication to the craft is unparalleled, plays his character as someone who has been off-world so long — a record-setting 400-plus days — that he’s starting to feel eerily at home there. Ferguson acts as a more logical bulwark. Reynolds brings a touch of that Deadpool insouciance. And Dihovichnaya delivers maxims —“slow is fast” — that ring true in cinema as well as space exploration. Jon Ekstrand ties everything together with a suitably creepy score.

It’s nail-biting fun when the alien critter, nicknamed Calvin, starts tearing up the ship, and everyone scrambles to respond. (Among other things, it turns out that in space, no one can hear you drown.) Swedish director Daniel Espinosa manages an effective mix of horror and character development, and never stoops to the easy jump-scare. Fighting inimical alien life is frightening enough without it sneaking up on you.

Ah, but that ending. It’s problematic in that it breaks several of the unwritten rules of cinema, the kind that tell you that if a character looks out a window, the next cut will be of what she sees. I won’t say what it amounts to except that it feels cheap, and easy. Life is a good science-fiction horror blend, but it falls short of greatness because its fear outweighs its curiosity. ∂∂1/2