The playbooks for cinematic U.F.O. encounters and alien visitations were written a century ago, with only a handful of revisions since. The technology at a filmmaker’s disposal may have changed, and the politics behind the subtext may shift according to the climate of the age, but the execution has largely stayed the same. We’ve seen it all before, right? What could possibly be new under the stars? I’m not here to say The Vast of Night reinvents the wheel, because it doesn’t. But, I will say that, through a deliberate regression into nostalgic simplicity, it offers something the genre hasn’t seen in some time: a simple, character-driven story executed with precision, vivacity, and urgency that doesn’t get bogged down with messaging or half-baked allegory. The Vast of Night may seem familiar, but I assure you that this is by design, and used to great effect.
Playing out in what is very close to real-time, The Vast of Night covers a lot of ground in its short 90-minute run-time. This moment-by-moment approach is accentuated by multiple long takes that span the entirety of its 1950s small-town New Mexico setting, forcing us into the protagonist’s clamor and growing unease. As the camera moves across the dark landscape, the deserted streets and desolate countryside begin to feel like wind-swept martian plateaus untouched by humanity. Life exists out in the desert, but as the plot unfolds, it can’t be said with any certainty just where it originated or what its purpose may be.
The film centers on two very important hubs for communication and information delivery in the 1950s: the local radio station and the telephone switchboard. We’re first introduced to Everett and Fay (Jake Horowitz and Sierra McCormick), high school friends and fellow science enthusiasts, as they walk (in a wonderful long take) from the school gymnasium to Fay’s place of employment at the telephone company. Everett heads off the radio station for his shift as a late-night disc jockey, but it doesn’t take long for things to take a turn for the strange. And with most of the town at the gym for a basketball game, there are very few people around to witness the odd events. The pair keep communication to the outside world open for as long as they can through their respective jobs, but soon find the tasks impossible due to mysterious breakdowns in equipment and a scientific calling to investigate reports of “something in the sky.”
From there, it isn’t necessarily what happens next but how. Much of what follows could be considered “standard” for a story about a mid-century U.F.O. sighting, but through clever uses of talkative exposition and visual risks, director Andrew Patterson – along with writers James Montague and Craig W. Sanger – take us on a unique journey through myth, mystery, and tragic discovery. For long stretches, Patterson’s cinematic flair simply shouldn’t work on the level it does, let alone manage to intensify moments better than any half-seen flashback ever could. In this simplicity, The Vast of Night paints a better picture with more efficiency and clarity than many of its counterparts, while underscoring the human aspect involved in the art of communication and understanding. An easily overlooked feat, perhaps, but pay attention to your seat position after some of these long moments of human interaction. I was at the edge of mine.
But, maybe there’s an easier explanation why The Vast of Night works so well: nostalgia. Patterson is smart enough to hide his influences in plain sight, with open references to sci-fi classics like The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits, but also identifiable nods to the more contemporary space visions of Steven Speilberg (Close Encounter of the Third Kind and E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial). Throw in an unexpected but healthy dose of Lucas’ American Graffiti, and it becomes difficult not to find plenty of magic hidden in the corners of The Vast of Night.
James is a writer, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.