Scott Beck and Bryan Woods’ 65 is a lean, tight science fiction adventure—an exceedingly simple survival story. Don’t expect anything new or revolutionary. But at its own pulp level, it’s an engrossing—and at times, touching—film.
Spaceship pilot Mills (Adam Driver) leaves on a two-year exploratory mission that comes with a massive raise to pay for his daughter Navine’s (Chloe Coleman) grave and unspecified illness. Mid-voyage, asteroids unexpectedly pelt his ship and he’s forced to crash-land on an unknown planet that is actually Earth during the Cretaceous period. This location isn’t saved for some hackneyed climactic revelation—the opening title card reveals in full: “65 Million Years Ago Prehistoric Earth Had a Visitor.”
All of Mills’ passengers die in the landing, save one: Koa (Ariana Greenblatt), a young girl around his daughter’s age. Neither one speaks the other’s language, and together, they must weave their way to a functional escape pod through a primordial forest teeming with agile prehistoric predators.
Despite 65’s simplicity, it’s surprisingly enjoyable. It deserves an award for running only 93 minutes when most current movies self-indulgently ramble on interminably. Where the film really shines is in its humanistic respect for themes that really matter: courage, family, loyalty, ingenuity, and selflessness. With so much recent fare bludgeoning the audience with wearying nihilism, a straightforward tale of essentially sympathetic, intelligent characters seems almost novel. 65 may be pulp, but it’s far more engaging than what passes for art these days.
However, 65 only distinguishes itself intermittently. Its space opera setting diminishes some of the gripping quality that Beck and Woods brought to the scripts of A Quiet Place and its first sequel. Those films are echoed here on certain levels—an adult shepherding a child through a potentially deadly maze of monsters—and it exceeds viewer expectations. But the Quiet Place films were also consistently more potent, partly because, in their fantastic setting, they were still closer to the mundane world.
A major plot point that somewhat undercuts 65’s storyline is Mills’ initial negligence that kills nearly all his passengers. Not enough is made of that pivotal fact, and it tarnishes his character’s likability. 65 also has some notable plot contrivances that can be overlooked, but other major plot points (containing spoilers) become almost silly.
On a technical level, 65 delivers throughout. The dinosaur effects, both practical and CG, are convincing and, occasionally, startlingly effective. As is often the case nowadays, the other visual effects, costumes, and production design are all praiseworthy, while the storyline is the thinnest ingredient. It was shot in Oregon, Louisiana, and Ireland in well-chosen, gorgeous, primeval-looking locations. Driver and Greenblatt’s performances are fine.
65 may not be exceptional, but despite its flaws, it’s decent enough to recommend. It’s also fairly family-friendly. Sam Raimi produced it, but it cleaves closer to his superhero movies and doesn’t venture into Evil Dead territory. The bottom line: If you don’t approach 65 with high expectations, you might be pleasantly surprised that it’s a precarious journey worth taking.
65
PG-13, 93 minutes
Alamo Drafthouse Cinema,
Regal Stonefield