In Another Earth—the debut feature from director Mike Cahill that made waves at this year’s Sundance—a planet identical to our own, apparently populated by other-dimensional copies of us, has emerged in the sky… and it’s getting closer. But that’s not really the point.
At its core (pun not intended), Another Earth is about Rhoda (Brit Marling, who also co-wrote the script), an MIT acceptee, who, on the night that “Earth 2” is discovered, gets drunk and crashes into a brilliant Yale music professor named John Burroughs (William Mapother), his pregnant wife, and their young son. The wife and son die, John is sent into a coma, and Rhoda spends her next four years in jail. John and Rhoda reemerge from captivity still broken by the tragedy, deadpanning through their days, until Rhoda, posing as a maid, shows up at John’s doorstep. Predictably, the two help each other mend, their deeper connection remaining a secret to John.
At times, Earth 2’s looming presence feels more like a side note than a major plot point. Lingering, often beautiful shots of the sky and Rhoda’s fascination with an essay contest (yes, essay contest) to be on the first voyage to the mysterious planet are the most frequent reminders. Otherwise, life goes on with just a whiff of paranoia. Adults go to work. Kids go to school. Graduations are celebrated. But for Rhoda, Earth 2 represents a second chance—the opportunity to exist in a universe where her life wasn’t destroyed by a single reckless night. And who, like Rhoda, hasn’t wondered what their life might be like if just one or two moments had turned out differently? It’s this existential terrain—along with a chilling “first contact” scene—that prevents the material from slipping into indie melodrama territory.
Another Earth is a swing-for-the-fences debut for Cahill, and there are some misses, including some clunky dialogue meant to establish Rhoda’s distance from her family, and hand-held camerawork that’s often more dizzying than immersive. But the inventive premise, and Cahill’s ability to balance elements of melancholy and wonder throughout, make Another Earth a promising freshman effort.
Words by Adam D’Arpino