Visiting Two Different Planets in One Night

4 Oct
0

I usually prefer a book version to its movie version, but not always.  Such is the case with the newly released movie, The Martian.  I read the book over a year ago.  Even though I am not in the least a technical person, I couldn’t put the book down until I finished it.  What made the book even better was that it was written by a first time author, Andy Weir, who had been turned down by several publishers.  So, he self-published.  And the book quickly soared up to a best seller.  Of course, then the publishers wanted it.  And then came the movie deal — and now the movie. I love success stories of self-published authors making it BIG.

Since the reviews of the new movie are quite good, I went to see it.   Although two hours seems to be my tolerance limit for watching movies, the 2 hours and 22 minutes were put to good use.  Even the author said that the visual impact of the movie is greater than can be described in just words.  Matt Damon catches the humor of his unenviable situation of fending for himself on Mars for over 500 days.  His calm pursuit of staying alive while coming up with ingenious techniques of survival keep the audience’s attention while NASA officials scramble to help him stay alive and bring him back to mother earth.

While this movie was not filmed on Mars, and does have some inconsistencies with reality (the radiation on Mars does not allow long walks even in a spacesuit, and the wind on Mars is very weak because of its atmosphere), it comes off as remarkably plausible.   Mars, mostly filmed in Jordan, is hauntingly beautiful, and the artistry of how he gets rescued at high speed in space is a true tribute to the writer’s imagination, the movie maker, and what we already know about space travel.

Prior to going to Mars, I went into a store near the theater.   It was called “Gaming” and I had no idea what that meant other than Las Vegas gambling.  I saw three rows of young men and boys sitting in front of computers with earphones on.  Occasionally, one of the older boys would yell out something, often including swearing, to encourage the other players.  Everyone’s screen had the same video on it.  It looked like what we see on our evening news covering Iraq, Afghanistan, ISIS, or any other war.

I thought of the early Pac-Man computer games where a simple round blob with a mouth tried to gobble up whatever it could as fast as it could.  Now the blob shapes have become images of people, but the purpose is still to kill as many as quickly as possible.

There were also very large screens with sofas in front where two people comfortably sat while hitting buttons that killed other types of images.  I’m sure there is some skill involved, but I prefer the excitement of the old pinball machine I played over and over in my grandfather’s rundown old hotel many years ago.

I quietly watched the players, and then spoke to the person in charge to try to understand the attraction of the strange new world I had wandered into.  I can’t claim I really understand either gaming or Mars.  However, of the two worlds I visited last night, I prefer Mars.

 

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