Not too long ago, the Pentagon officially declassified a couple videos that had been previously leaked by an organization founded by Blink-182 singer, Tom DeLonge, because that’s just the kind of world we live in now, I guess. The footage was filmed by Navy pilots, who encountered an unidentified flying object, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. Given it’s the rather eventful year of our Lord 2020, the news came and went without much acknowledgment, and in all likelihood, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for what these pilots experienced. But mystery surrounding these events are still compelling, especially for people who are intrigued by the allure of the unknown.
I never really believed in the phenomenon, but it was something that I have been fascinated and borderline obsessed with for as long as I can remember. That interest extends toward films that revolve around similar subject matter, which is why I have such a soft spot for them. And I have a feeling screenwriters, James Montague and Craig W. Sanger, and director, Andrew Patterson, might be the same way because their debut film, The Vast Of Night, is so much my jam, it feels like it was made specifically for me.
Opening with a shot of a black and white TV set playing a Twilight Zone-esque intro for a program called Paradox Theatre, the film dives into the world on the screen where we find ourselves in a small New Mexico town. It’s the night of a big basketball game at the local high school, and practically everyone in town is in attendance. The characters we follow are two youngsters, a switchboard operator, Fay (Sierra McCormick), and her friend, Everett (Jake Horowitz), who works as a DJ at the local radio station. The two are at their respective jobs when the night takes a strange turn as a mysterious audio frequency starts interrupting the radio, leading them to investigate.
The film is for all intents and purposes a throwback feature. While it may be shot digitally and in color, much of the pacing, the dialogue, and tone seeks to hearken back to a specific point in science fiction filmmaking from the 1950s. However, what separates this from something like 2001’s The Lost Skeleton Of Cadavra is that The Vast Of Night plays things completely sincerely, and frankly, it’s all the better for it. It taps into the time period really well, and gets into a groove that few sci-fi films are bold enough to ride in nowadays.
It’s also a beautifully made film. While digital photography might not seem like the best approach to this particular kind of material, especially given the analog fetishism at display for much of the film, cinematographer, Miguel Ioann Littin Menz, gives a slick look that adds an urgency to the proceedings with its own distinct stylistic flourishes. I’m still thinking about this one tracking shot where the camera goes from one part of town where Fay is at to another part of town, through the basketball game, and ending at Everett standing by his radio station. The evocative score from Erick Alexander and Jared Bulmer balances a sense of terror with a genuine sense of wonder, effortlessly complementing the elegant camerawork and dialogue heavy scenes.
The performances from McCormick and Horowitz are really strong, not only in how they get across the feeling of uncertainty and curiosity and fear as the night goes along, but also in how many of the acting seems to be informed by the era. When we first meet the characters, we follow Everett and Fay through the school, giving us a feeling of history and familiarity with the townsfolk, and they use the same snappy delivery you would associate with films of that time. It doesn’t veer into parody, nor does it lean too hard on it, it’s a soft evocation that further cements the reality of what we’re seeing on screen. Gail Cronauer and Bruce Davis also comes close to stealing the whole film with very little screen time, or in the case of Davis, just through his voice.
If it wasn’t clear enough, I really loved The Vast Of Night. Not only does it do a wonderful job at being a throwback picture, the filmmakers pulled off a brilliant balancing act between the existential horror and awe that comes with potentially confronting things that are beyond our understanding. There is an argument to be made that the film does not have a whole lot else going on under the surface, but I think it still does what it’s doing not only effectively, but with smart touches. I’m reminded of Bruce Davis’ Billy, who called the radio station with information about a secret military operation he was a part of that could possibly explain the strange noises. He talks about how he and everyone involved was Black or Mexican because if anything leaked, they wouldn’t be taken seriously, and no one would listen. It’s the kind of addition that might not seem like much in the moment, but it really brings a lot to the greater experience. I’m incredibly impressed with what Andrew Patterson and his crew were able to pull off with what seems like very limited resources, and I can’t wait to see what he does next, whether it’s another addition to Paradox Theatre or something else entirely. I can’t promise its dreamy, campfire story-like atmosphere will engage with everyone like it did with me, but the filmmaking here is so bold, so confident, and thrillingly alive that it manages to take something old fashioned, and makes it feel new and relevant again without losing the core and humanity that made its inspirations stand the test of time.