Denis Villeneuve’s first sci-fi masterpiece is a master of foreshadowing, atmosphere, and melancholic beauty

By: Keaton Marcus

Although it’s actually Denis Villeneuve’s highest grossing movie to-date, I feel like Arrival is still far too under-appreciated for its own good. Readers will think I’m crazy, but upon re-watching it yesterday, I found it to be even better than in theaters, and in some moments greater than Blade Runner 2049, which is my number one favorite movie of all-time. Not overall, but in parts, this definitely could have taken that slot. From the beautiful and delicate treatment to grief and loss, to the immaculate cinematography, and a virtually perfect musical score, it’s quite difficult to find a single issue with it. That is why I’ve come here today to write an analysis on the film, basically explaining all the big plot points and judging them based on quality, or any hidden meanings that they may have.

In the beginning, Villeneuve hits us with a tragedy that’s so darn heart wrenching, and surprisingly, quite important to later in the movie. We see Louise, played by Amy Adams, living her life as a single mother with her one daughter, Hannah in a brief period of different montages. Eventually, we learn that Hannah has been diagnosed with cancer, and no treatment will help. While this powerful sequence could be considered a tad glossed over, as it runs for about one minute or two, it’s an undeniable emotional trigger without delving into the nitty gritty of it. The fact is, Villeneuve proves to us his versatility as a director. He makes slow-burn movies such as Incendies and Prisoners before plunging audiences in a fast paced adventure like Sicario, and then completely mixing the two with 2049, and ultimately, this. There’s an excellent mix of more reflective storytelling and exciting, suspenseful and thrilling sequences in this movie.

After the tragic death of Louise’s daughter, we fast forward into the future as she becomes a college professor. Again, the director wastes no time here, and tells audiences that there have been 12 “alien pods” that have landed in random parts of the world. Following an empty classroom the next day, she’s approached by Colonel Webber (Forrest Whitaker), who wants her to try and communicate with the aliens, see what their purpose is on Earth considering she’s an expert in communication. Naturally, she’s quite reluctant, but is eventually convinced. The next morning, she suits up to head to the base. Here, we get some of the most beautiful imagery I’ve ever witnessed in a science fiction film, and we’re not even at the most dazzling part. Instead of using the common UFO like in Close Encounters with the Third Kind, or even ET, Arrival uses something refreshingly unconventional for the alien spaceship. The transport has a “pod-like” shape of sorts, and it creates a far more ominous atmosphere in what could have been a generic shot.

What shot am I referencing? The first wide of the entire base, and the craft floating in mid-air slightly above the ground, which gave me such chills that it was almost ethereal. Not only that, but this is coupled with ghostly fog slowly encroaching upon the base, deepening the otherworldly feel of it all, and giving an unsettling sense of dread to what’s to come in the future. Take that Steven Spielberg flashy lights. We also get introduced to the other main character, Ian, portrayed by MCU actor Jeremy Renner. Immediately, due to the clever writing, audiences know what type of person he is from the get-go. He’s got a master in physics and isn’t afraid to show it as we get a sharp dialogue between the two that effortlessly uses contrast and juxtaposition to differentiate the two characters. Adams’ character believes that language is the cornerstone of all society, and Renner’s thinks science is. With almost no time at all, we get to know the new character, and how he feels with Louise’s opinions based on his background.

Then, she finds out that the entire decision on whether to be peaceful or not with the aliens rests on her, which gives a delightful sense of urgency and high stakes to the previously quiet movie. Basically, the two have a matter of days to find out their purpose on Earth before the US follows other countries such as China and Russia and go on the offensive side. An example of not fully appreciating the movie when first seeing it in theaters was failing to realize how brilliant the photography is in one of the next sequences. It’s when Louise and Ian finally enter the ship, and the props really go to cinematographer Bradford Young in the scene, because I truly haven’t seen shots like this in a long time. So, the two, along with some soldiers, head up using a moving platform before finding out that the entire entrance is zero gravity. The craft here is damn near impeccable, and my jaw physically dropped when watching. Honestly, my brain was in complete awe at Young’s ability.

After some thrilling imagery when our heroes float up to see these creatures, they’ve made it to the platform, and all the two can do is stare in awe. The contrast of the black coloring of the aliens, who are almost squid-like, have excellent results against the white, grey and bleak backdrop that they are in. Louise doesn’t get much information about the key question, but she names the aliens Abbott and Costello. Another thing that I forgot to mention is the fact that Young has mastered the haunting beauty of bleakness, which may not look like much at first, but you really grow to appreciate it. Everything looks very gritty and dirty, with color palette usage of blues, browns, grays, and milky blacks to create intimacy and realism in the atmosphere, a cinematographer who knows how to work with natural lighting. Despite Webber nagging Louise to speed up the process, she assures him that we must teach them what a question actually is, followed by personal pronouns.

The difficulty of this scenario piled on with the recent death of her daughter really weighs on Louise’s shoulders as we get several melancholy flashbacks into her tragic past. Ignoring of all of this, Louise does actually learn a thing or two about their new foreign friends: They communicate with different types of circles made out of palindrome phrases and inky symbols. Yes, kind of like an intelligent squid. In the next visit, Louise is able to establish some sufficient vocabulary with Abbott and Costello, they answer with the phrase: “offer weapon”. Obviously, this completely unhinges China, who interprets this as “use weapon” before immediately getting ready to attack. Again, the moment ups the stakes on Louise and Ian as well. Louise, however, argues that all of this can be referred to the “means” or “tools”, and not something violent, but many other nations disagree strongly and prepare for battle like China.

Due to the recent update, several soldiers have turned rogue and have planted a bomb in the pod. Not knowing of this, Louise and Ian enter it again before receiving an extremely complex message almost impossible to figure out. We get yet another fully practical sequence fueled by superb set design, cinematography, editing, and practically every top-notch technical aspect in the film. The scene easily creates tension when cutting back in forth from Louise walking into the abyss and the bomb’s timer nearly ready to go off. The zero gravity saves the two, however, and they are both left floating in the entrance. When they re-awaken following their unconsciousness, the military is preparing to evacuate the base, and the craft has flown just out of reach. Ian proves himself to be a truly capable character when he figures out the little clues that the aliens left behind in their intricate message. He explains that the writing occupies one twelfth of the 3D map in which it’s projected on, meaning that the aliens want all nations to share their knowledge. This suggests that the full message is split among the twelve craft.

China’s General Shang, on the other hand, issues an ultimatum with the craft, sending out a message demanding that it leave the country in less than 24 hours. Russia, Pakistan, and Sudan follow his lead. As a worldwide panic sets in, international communications between the base and foreign countries have been stopped. Louise, more curious than afraid, walks back up to the unreachable craft, which sends down a smaller pod, making it possible for her to head back up. This is when Villeneuve drops some major twists on us, and proves once again that he’s a filmmaker truly capable of foreshadowing genius. Due to the explosion, Abbott is near death, and Costello reveals that the term “weapon” referred to Earth’s language. This changes humanity’s perception of linear time, and allows them to experience “memories” of future events. All of the supposed flashbacks to Louise’s life with her daughter is finally resolved when she realizes that Hannah won’t be born until sometime in the future. This was another thing that I’ve grown to appreciate four years after first seeing this, actually partially understanding the insane ending.

This revelation also confirms something called the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, which suggests that a language shapes the fundamental brain cognition of those who speak it. In this case, it means that humans who mastered the alien’s language can perceive the future and the past. Louise then has a premonition, not a flashback, of the United Nations celebrating unity after the aliens left. General Shang even congratulates her for persuading him not to attack by calling his private number. This then leads Louise in the present to steal Agent Halpern’s (Michael Stuhlbarg) phone and calls Shang’s telephone number to recite the words: “War doesn’t make winners, only widows,” which is what he said to him in the premonition. The Chinese then suddenly announce that they would be standing down, and the other countries follow suit before the twelve craft depart. All of it closes out so satisfyingly when Ian finally confesses his love for her, and they discuss a possible future together. Banks, with her premonitions of the future, already knows that she will agree to have a child despite knowing that she will die from an incurable disease, and that Ian will leave them when she does so. It’s such a tragic conclusion as we find out that the visions of her daughter dying is all that’s to come later on, and Villeneuve broke my heart with it.