Primer (2004)

Science fiction stories have often successfully led the audience to ask questions regarding their own humanity and character. Perhaps it is because the limits to the narrative are fewer, or because the genre fundamentally exists upon hypothetical scenarios; the most memorable science fiction writers allow us to identify with these characters placed in fantastical circumstances. That is the reason for the simultaneous sense of wonder and anxiety that so many science fiction movies purvey, either blatantly (can anyone say “Independence Day”) or very subtly.

“Primer,” famously shot and edited for $7,000 in the home of its writer/director Shane Carruth, as is out-of-your-face as can be, yet it packs a wallop that few other sci-fi films have been able to do in recent years. For the most part, however, the joy of the film is in the crescendo of suspense as the director pulls back the curtain on what initially appears to be nothing more than a deft portrait of grass-roots enterprise in its noble infancy to reveal a seemingly realistic story of the potential corrosiveness of the most disruptive (and time-honored) science-fiction premise in history. Carruth, who was majored in mathematics and worked as an engineer before deciding to veer into filmmaking, shows a commitment to realism that is a stark contrast to the material. This technique is what will draw you in unexpectedly; the absence of the polished effects and action that is almost standard in the recent canon of sci-fi films brings an unexpected depth and seriousness to the story.

“Primer” begins by showing us four friends working together in a garage, volleying tech jargon back and forth. The garage belongs to Aaron (Carruth), who along with his best friend out of the other three Abe (David Sullivan) has ambitions greater than his current company will allow him to achieve. In the process, Abe and Aaron stumble across an invention so vast and unthinkable that the first half of the movie successfully holds us in suspense as the nature of it is revealed to us in incrementally exciting scenes. This is by far the most fascinating part of the film, and it is also where Carruth is on his surest footing. The scenes have such a real texture to them; the dialogue is littered with scientific terminology, but remains surprising accessible to the non-geek and allows us to slowly realize what the two have at hand.

What follows is how both Abe and Aaron grapple with the rewards and ramifications of their discovery, and where Carruth delves into questions about the murkiness of human nature. The movie can succeed entirely without these developments; the exposition is really that fun to watch. Still, Carruth’s own ambitions in showing the corrupting nature of power add a nice narrative engine to the material, and the last thirty minutes are sure to have you pausing and rewinding multiple times to figure exactly what the hell is going on. The film is constructed and laid out so naturally and beautifully that once you are drawn into the story and identify with the characters, the complex madness of the ending are akin to a dizzying spike in altitude of which no fan of suspense and interesting ideas should deprive themselves.