The first thing you should know about Ridley Scott’s The Martian is that it’s very good, and probably very important. For the longest time I have felt that our culture devalued intelligence and education; in middle school when I was on MySpace, my classmates filled in “Favorite Books” with “fuck books.” We thought being smart was something to be ashamed of.
But a decade later and being smart isn’t just useful for life, it’s fucking cool, and Andy Weir’s The Martian is the latest in the new brainy fad (a fad I personally hope never goes away). Originally a cheap ebook on Amazon, Weir’s science-accurate novel about an astronaut stranded on Mars has been adapted into a big budget film with renowned director Ridley Scott at the helm. And yes, it’s great! It’s thrilling and suspenseful in all the ways you want it to be and funny in the ways you would n’t expect, and as a participant in the new brainy pop culture it’s going to do a lot to influence young minds to pursue science and value intelligence once again.
I just wish it were better.
Comparisons to Weir’s novel are inevitable and I don’t think any adaptation should ever be a slave to the source material, but in The Martian‘s case I’m torn. I roll my eyes when I hear complaints like “It wasn’t as good as the book,” but this might be the rare movie where it’s worth debating. Scott cuts out a lot of Watney’s setbacks that keep him isolated from the rest of Earth, which is so crucial for the heart of The Martian. Scott cut out a solid hour that would have effectively communicated the isolation and claustrophobia of Mark Watney, which the book’s hefty 300+ pages achieved. The story Ridley Scott tells is great, but an extra hour would have made it weighted and sublime. Typical moviegoing audiences probably don’t have time for that extra hour nor did 20th Century Fox probably have the budget, but it might have gone a long way to letting The Martian rise above popcorn status.
They really couldn’t have casted this thing better, and it was probably the most important thing they could have done. With Watney on Mars, the Ares III crew ping-ponging in space, and NASA on Earth, no one was ever going to be share the same space at once, yet they all feel like real colleagues. Colleagues who tease each other and give each other shit and tell them when they’re being an ass. It’s one of the best things about The Martian and it works like gangbusters. Populating with prestige talent like Jeff Daniels, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Kristen Wiig, Donald Glover, Jessica Chastain, Sean Bean, and Kate Mara was probably the only choice they had to make The Martian work.
But no one steals the show better than Matt Damon as Mark Watney, who had the heavy responsibility of having to act by himself for the majority of the picture. Andy Weir wrote Watney to be a smart aleck to alleviate the brutal science that takes up every other chapter in The Martian, but in the film Watney functions as an anchor, a vehicle, as all film protagonists should do. But Damon is funny and approachable, so when he talks about his scientific methods he’s not boring in the slightest. You don’t need to have aced a biology class to appreciate what Watney is doing and how he walks you through it.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t highlight Jessica Chastain’s Commander Lewis either. She is a standout character, a leader who feels like she’s failed. Her guilt for leaving Watney behind drives her through the film and it’s awe-inspiring to watch, which is something Weir’s book didn’t explore nearly enough. But neither does the film, which despite doing more than Weir’s book it still doesn’t give Chastain the ample time she could have used to chew on it. Chastain has a gravity (no space pun intended) to her, and it’s a big mistake the film didn’t take full advantage.
In the end, The Martian is exactly what you want it to be. It’s a thrilling story about survival in space with affable heroes that any kid can aspire to be who don’t need for radioactive spiders or titanium armor to be great. But The Martian doesn’t take its time and doesn’t allow itself to breathe (the irony in that statement isn’t lost on me, I assure you). When I read Andy Weir’s novel, I couldn’t wait to be done with it, because I felt for Watney and his predicament and felt choked by his confined space. When I watched Ridley Scott’s movie, I couldn’t believe how soon it was over.
The Martian gets a 3 out of 5.