The Martian (like this review) jumps immediately into the story—NASA astronaut Mark Watney (Matt Damon) is part of the Ares III space exploration on Mars (presumably set in the near future) when an unexpected dust storm hits, forcing the crew to evacuate their artificial shelter and leave the planet. While evacuating Mark is struck by a blown off satellite dish, knocking him unconscious; due to misinformation Mark is presumed dead and abandoned by his dismayed crew. An injured Mark awakes the next day, alive and alone on the barren planet for (what he presumes) at least three years before the next shuttle arrives. If the oxygen tank breaks he’ll suffocate, if the water tank breaks he’ll die from dehydration, if there’s a tent breach he’ll implode—the food supply is limited and eventually Mark will starve. Fortunately Mark’s a botanist, and with a combination of potato rations, Martian dirt and his own feces, begins cultivating a garden using the shelter’s artificial habitat.
For around the first twenty minutes, The Martian looks to be a Castaway on Mars—with Tom Hanks replaced by Matt Damon, and an island replaced with an entire planet. Expectedly Damon gets the most screen time, which puts a lot of pressure on his acting capabilities (to a degree where it seems to literally weigh him down on the lower gravity planet). There’s even more pressure when factoring I’m not a huge Damon fan—yet I will give proper credit to his role as Mark, which while nothing spectacular, far exceeded my average expectations. Damon plays his role and plays it effectively, emotionally, and with surprising wittiness, being the film’s most memorable highlight.
Alas, The Martian is not a Castaway on Mars, with Mark’s isolation soon interrupted by a parallel plot involving NASA realizing he’s survived—formulating a plan on how to contact and keep Mark alive for a rescue mission. It’s at this point where The Martian becomes both noticeably unique and flawed. I enjoyed the NASA people—I enjoyed how they weren’t incompetent fools, I enjoyed they’re rational ideas and sensible arguments, and I particularly enjoyed their comedic relief—such as the hilariously dry scene where the NASA CEO informs the press about Mark’s survival. Yet as a whole, The Martian’s split perspective has two glaring issues—a reduced isolated sensation and a plot spread way too thin.
When it comes to characters there’s essentially two—there’s Mark, and there’s NASA. “NASA” collectively refers to the 15 or so individuals introduced (the majority with titles) and sparsely developed throughout the film. The NASA individuals are not characters in a fleshed out sense; they’re used to provide information, progress the plot, make a few wise cracks and maybe just occasionally get a trace of development—whether it be a personality quirk or a glimpse at their personal life. Saving Mark is the plot’s sole focus, so saving Mark is around 95% of the cast’s focus; such storytelling creates indifference for anyone besides Mark, which leads to several issues along the way. Take for example the “romantic subplot” between two Ares III crew members. The two characters are given very little screen time and even briefer romantic development—so when one risks life and limb to change the Aries III’s angle (slightly increasing Mark’s rescue chances), rather than feel tension for his life, I instead strained to remember his name. One could entirely be forgiven if the good luck kiss during said scene (plus the baby-ever-after epilogue) felt out of left field.
