Vast of Night
AMAZONWatching Andrew Patterson’s enthralling debut feature The Vast of Night at home, on a TV screen is like pouring salt in the wound that is the closure of theaters. Despite the film nodding to its Twilight Zone roots by framing the production as a TV show, Patterson’s film is intensely cinematic. As the title suggests, it is about the vastness of the unknown, and what could be more vast than a gigantic movie screen, wrapping its way around the theater and engulfing its viewers’ eyes? It is just not the same at home.
Nevertheless, while The Vast of Night would have undoubtedly benefitted from a theatrical release, Patterson’s creation is nearly as potent from the comfort of the couch. Following in the footsteps of Steven Spielberg, his vision has a lot to do with wonder and awe. The film takes place over the course of one night in a small New Mexico town, circa the 1950s, and follows – quite literally – two teenagers who intercept a strange signal over their radio station.
From the location, time period, and inciting incident, it isn’t hard to guess the cause of that stray signal. Fortunately, answers are not what this film is about. It does cloak itself in an aura of mystery, but the point here is the journey, not the end. The film creates a specific atmosphere and supports it throughout , resulting in an edge-of-the-seat experience.
While on the surface, the film is reminiscent of other productions – particularly Twilight Zone – The Vast of Night sets itself apart through the quality of the filmmaking. It pays homage to its predecessors without being a pastiche, and meticulously recreates the time period without banking on nostalgic fan services. In many ways, it is an artsy rebuff to the pop-culture, teen kids-focused, sci-fi romp Stranger Things.
Although the screenplay is by far the film’s weakest point – mostly due to mile-a-minute dialogue at the beginning, which will inevitably fly over most viewers’ heads – Patterson, who co-wrote the film with Craig W. Sanger, manages to slip in sly social commentary about the 1950s. One particular sequence, involving a Black radio caller, completely recontextualises the secrecy of government projects like Area 51 as being partly around race. The contradicting mindsets of the two teens, Fay (Sierra McCormick) and Everett (Jake Horowitz), turns into an important dynamic, as the former is more resourceful and less cynical than the latter.
On a technical level, the film, which was made for $700,000, is accomplished far beyond what its budget would seemingly allow. Cinematographer M. I. Litten-Menz captures the period-accurate detail in gorgeous, grandiose shots that almost float over the landscape. The camera also stays far behind the characters to effectively depict the vastness of the night, making the viewer want to lean forward. However, for all of the splashy camera moves, including a show stopping journey from one location to another about halfway through, Litten-Menz knows the right moment to observe and hone in on the characters. In essence, the film is full of wonderful long takes that heighten the suspense and make each conversation unimaginably interesting.
Accompanying the soft, evocative images is a score by Erick Alexander and Jared Bulmer that vacillates with ease between the mysterious and the mystical. The eclectic score goes a long way to making the wondering theme shine through, even in ostensibly terrifying moments . What, in other films, would induce fright, here induces awe.
The Vast of Night is the kind of film that stirs the imagination and makes the future of cinema seem like a bright place in these dark times. It is a tremendous accomplishment that sets a new standard for low-budget sci-fi, specifically through its entrancing commitment to time and place. The vast of night has never looked so wondrous, mystical, and full of potential.
