Moon

If you’re like me and grew up on a rich diet of 1980’s science fiction films, you should walk (no make that moonwalk) to your nearest video store and ask for MOON. This little gem is an existential journey into the mind of a lonely farmer-astronaut and hits close to home. Sure there’s the usual high contrast and gritty sci-fi production values, but there are also some poignant connections to our rural habitat. Picture a massive, rambling, white combine harvester gathering hay under a full, late fall moon, except that in this case the moon is the earth. A tiny, lonely man is hunched over the controls in an elevated and sealed cockpit. Now remove all semblance of colour, add a few craters and hills, and you get part of what makes this film so familiar and, dare I say, rural.

Growing up here as a boy I imagined that the once plentiful silos and drive-sheds in Norfolk (especially the aluminum ones) were rocket platforms and moon bases. Even the large, four wheeled crop sprayers had a space age look to them. And that is why I felt especially connected to Duncan Jones’ incredibly moving MOON. It pulled me in and felt familiar.

If I had to bet the farm I’d say the production designer looked at both farms and farm machinery while working out the aesthetics of this movie. But more than that, the story pulls at your heartstrings.

Sam (played by the remarkably versatile Sam Rockwell in a breakthrough role) is a lonely astronaut working on the moon, farming the soil for energy until he begins to suffer from extreme isolation- complete with lucid dreams and hallucinations. What follows next is one of the finest surprise plot twists in contemporary cinema.

Satisfying space fiction from son of iconic rocker David Bowie. For the Silo, Jarrod Barker.