On its surface, Another Earth is an indie Sliding Doors, or Butterfly Effect, a ‘what if?’ movie without the distraction of famous names (notwithstanding William ‘cousin-of-Tom-Cruise’ Mapother) and a big budget. Brit Marling is mesmerising as an ethereally beautiful young graduate who crosses paths with Mapother’s composer under tragic circumstances, the same night that a new planet appears in the sky.

It would be easy to get caught up in the mystery of the planet’s appearance: what it means, why it’s there, where it’s going. But the other earth is really a quietly clever way for writer-director Mike Cahill and co-writer Marling to pose big questions in an unobtrusive way. Strip away the veneer of science fiction and Another Earth is, at its core, a film about two wrecked people who find unexpected solace in each other, a story of grief and loss quietly reflected in Cahill’s beautifully raw cinematography. Mapother and Marling find an unlikely sliver of hope in each other, enough for even the most pessimistic viewer to begin to hope that there might be some way back from the abyss for them. Yet from the outset, there’s an air of inevitability about how their story will play out - Another Earth is a delicate lotus flower of a film that gently unfolds in its own time, leaving a gorgeous and all too fleeting spectacle. Even the abrupt ending, prompting as many questions as it answers, is a perplexing delight, the perfect way to punctuate a film that respects its viewers too much to tie itself up into a neat little bow. 

If, next year, you’re looking for an alternative Christmas movie, there’s worse out there than Another Earth, a deceptively simplistic tale woven from hope, redemption and reflection. It’s just a pity that it has roughly a snowball’s chance in Bermuda of receiving any kind of major award.