Arrival (Denis Villeneuve, 2016)

If 2009′s Polytechnique didn’t convince you that Denis Villeneuve is one of the most significant directors working this century, then Enemy four years later should have clued you up that he is one of the most original.  Arrival sees him taking further steps into the mainstream after the Hugh Jackman fronted thriller Prisoners in 2013 and the 2015 CIA-meets-Mexican-drug-lord crime film Sicario with Emily Blunt and Benicio del Toro.

But even in terms of the diversity that marks Villeneuve’s filmography thus far, Arrival feels like something altogether new. Based on Ted Chiang’s “Story of Your Life”, the very scale of Villeneuve’s linguistics-oriented science fiction epic takes him somewhere grander in scope, laying the groundwork for what he might conceivably achieve with the much anticipated Blade Runner 2049, currently pencilled in for an October 2017 release.

Aside from anything else, Arrival stands with Bruce McDonald’s 2008 film Pontypool – another Canadian film, coincidentally – to explicitly address language in the context of fantastic cinema. While Pontypool builds its exploration around the zombie film tradition, Arrival turns its attention towards the alien invasion trope. Like Pontypool, however, Arrival transcends the limitations that so often govern the less creative examples of the subgenre, instead using it as a loose conceptual foundation upon which to build a theoretically-informed examination of what precisely it is that makes us human.

It is on this front that Villeneuve understands that the success of Arrival relies less on the flamboyant special effects that typify the quasi-intellectual dudebroism of Christopher Nolan than it does its lead character Louise, played by Amy Adams. It is hardly original to suggest that – alongside her stupendous performance in Tom Ford’s Nocturnal Animals – 2016 has been an exceptional year for Adams, both films positioning her strongly for Oscar consideration. Although very different roles, in both Arrival and Nocturnal Animals, Adams’ strength lies in what she holds back. The nuance of her often minute physical gestures are at times overpowering; she speaks volumes with the turn of a wrist or the tug of a lock of hair.

Largely a result of the collaboration between Adams and Villeneuve (built on Chiang’s already strong source material), it is the emotional scale of Arrival that ultimately leaves its most enduring mark.  In the hands of another director, Arrival could easily collapse into pomposity and self-importance, but Villeneuve’s respect for silence, for nuance, and for the value of small things allows the heart of the story to float to the surface, dazzling brighter and longer than any glitzy intergalactic CG spectacle ever could.

- Alexandra Heller-Nicholas