Science fiction movies are sometimes not what you’d expect. And sometimes they are just what they should be. Science fiction is often about what-ifs. The genre becomes an out-of-the-normal vehicle to viewpoints that could not be easily had in a “real world” setting. There are two worlds in Another Earth. One looks like the other. They have the same morphology, same cities, same streets. Maybe they are one another. What if?
Pretty deep stuff huh? There are no space wars in Earth - no odd aliens. The two-world setting is not pretext for an invasion tale or a set up for a special-effects driven colliding-world film. The preposterous new skyline is just a frame work for a tale of tragedy and second chance.
In the beginning Rhoda, the films protagonist, can see only a blue dot in the dark sky. The new planet has just been discovered, moving through our solar system to within range of our attention. There is no attempt to explain the unlikeliness of such a thing or what surely would be the substantial physical ramifications of such a change. The other Earth is just there and the stage is set.
Coincident with the other Earth’s arrival is the derailing of Rhoda’s young life and promising academic future in a tragic accident. The event, caused by Rhoda, costs lives. Rhoda, the guilty, and the surviving victim, John, are alive but broken. Years after, Rhoda, whose identity is unknown to her victim. visits him to claim responsibility and apologize. But she is weak, and instead masquerades as a maid and offers cleaning services. The relationship that evolves between Rhoda and John and the scenario that has caused it are as unlikely as the new earth looming on the horizon. It is tragic in its impossibility - but what if? The mirrored world somehow synced to our own, now close enough to reach through available space travel. What would the other us be like? Could any difference be an opportunity for sacrifice and healing?
Earth has a stripped down indie feel - atypical for Hollywood sci-fi's. But it is not unique in its philosophical ambitions. Films like Solaris and Gatica, although more heavily produced and with more attention paid to the science side, have succeeded in telling great stories in other- or future-world contexts. Indeed, I can’t think of any good science-fiction literature that does not have a very human story or a non-human allegory of those stories. In the case of Another Earth, the metaphysics is a metaphor about living with choices and paths to redemption, heavy on human wounds and light on the science. But the movie has the signature power ending of a good Sci-fi short story or novella - leaving the audience with several options for the answer to - what if? Refreshing, peculiar, occasionally discomfiting - Earth gets an 8.
