Why I Love Arrival

Liking a movie is akin to an infatuation; a momentary crush. When you’re in the theatre, and for perhaps a day or two after that, it’s the only thing you can think about. It will pass.

But falling in love with a movie is an altogether different experience. It takes time and multiple viewings. You become attuned to its rhythms, its quirks and nuances.

It’s rare too. There are hundreds of movies I like, some with more vigour than others, but there are probably only 15–20 movies that I love. It’s a powerful word, a strong emotion, and one I do not use lightly.

Arrival is one of those movies. Let me say this initially, mincing no words — I think Arrival is a masterpiece. Denis Villeneuve’s sedate, meditative Sci-fi drama resonated with me in a way that defies articulation.

Although the term ‘Science-fiction’ conjures images of aliens, androids, dreams, electric sheep, time travel, technology et al., Sci-Fi, at its core, is about exploring and understanding the human condition.

Arrival isn’t particularly concerned with the Heptapods, the 7-limbed aliens that descend on Earth in 12 identical vessels.
Instead, the focus is on Humans and our response to the situation.

It is about communication — both in the sense of discovering a means to communicate with the Heptapods and also about people, communities and entire countries communicating to work together to work through an unprecedented event.

Communication is at the heart of Arrival. It is one of the central themes of the film. And in a Meta context, another sense of communication defines how we, as audiences, view Arrival.

Movies communicate with us, and over time, we develop a sense of familiarity with this language. A ‘flashback’ is one such form of film language that we are well accustomed to.

But one of the many merits of Arrival is how it plays with our understanding of film language, and in doing so, delivers a twist that serves as a cypher that helps us understand the film’s language and re-contextualises prior events.

More substantially, it delivers a dénouement as emotionally stirring as any I have ever seen.

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗕𝗲 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀

Once the film’s language becomes apparent to us, we understand that what Louise was experiencing weren’t flashbacks. She was looking into her future.

And at this moment, the story of Arrival is entirely re-contextualised. The story of Arrival is the story of Hannah’s life. It is about the events that led to Hannah’s arrival and her untimely, tragic departure.

It is about a mother, a daughter, a husband — a family. It is about a choice that will irrevocably impact three lives.

‘Hannah’ is a palindromic name. And the story of her life mirrors her circular name (and the circular Heptapod language) — the opening scenes of Arrival mark her departure, while the final moments of the film signal her arrival.

The final scenes of Arrival, set to Max Richter’s hauntingly beautiful melody, On The Nature of Daylight, triggered in me a feeling that I can’t quite articulate.

It was beautiful, profound and deeply cathartic. It was something I will never forget. Moments like that are the reason I love movies — to walk into a dark theatre and have an experience that will stir your soul. It’s exceedingly rare. But when it happens, it is glorious.

Hundreds of movies are produced every year. Most of them will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Arrival will persist. It will stand proudly in the pantheon of great Sci-Fi films for decades to come.

And it deserves nothing less.

I love Arrival. I always will. To me, it is a soulful poem, an exquisite painting, a fervent melody. It is art. And it is beautiful.