The Martian – 7.8

How can you not root for Matt Damon – our generation’s Jimmy Stewart, as one critic said – as he struggles to survive for years all alone on Mars? And how can you not root for Kristen Wiig, Chiwetel Ejiofor and Mackenzie Davis back in Houston. (Jeff Daniels is the resident prig, but how bad can he be?) Meanwhile, Jessica Chastain and Kate Mara, hurtling through space, are pretty cool, too. The story is a basic tear-jerker; you pretty much know what is coming (“Shall we risk our lives to rescue our buddy, or shall we continue home to be with our families?” being a typical fork in the plot), but I shed tears of joy all the same. The elephant in the room, of course, is the total improbability of pretty much everything that happens, starting with why the team would abandon its mission for a sandstorm, then running through Damon’s ability to build, repair, innovate, farm, live with himself and survive on potatoes. What, the Rover never breaks down on Martian soil? And he is never without the proper screwdriver? What the movie did get right was the illogical importance society can attach to the saga of a single individual. When the NASA chief asks, which is more important, saving Mark Watney or preserving the Ares program, the point is that people can identify with an individual, not a program. He becomes a metaphor, a symbol, and saving him is what will save the program. I could’ve done without the “where are they now” PS, but that did give me a chance to wipe my face before heading out to the street.