Gravity (2013)

The physics are wobbly and the backstory is thinner than a space blanket, and Gravity still makes you forget to breathe. Sandra Bullock spends most of it alone, spinning, gasping and talking to herself, and she carries the whole film with nothing around her but black. The weak link is the script: her sad history gets dumped in one big speech, and a couple of the station-to-station hops would make a physics teacher stand up and object. George Clooney floats around telling stories like a guy at a backyard barbecue, which is the right energy for the opening stretch. Alfonso Cuarón’s camera never sits still, drifting into a helmet and back out like it’s weightless too. It made $739.4 million worldwide and pulled a 96 on Metacritic. An 8.2 because the experience is incredible and the character at the center is paper thin. $2,491 says you watch it on the biggest screen you can find and still flinch at the first debris hit.

What works: The long unbroken shots, Sandra Bullock’s physical performance, and sound design that makes silence feel dangerous.

What doesn’t: The dialogue and backstory are thin, and the station-hopping escape plan stretches real physics until it snaps.

Who it’s for: Anyone with a big TV and good speakers, and people who want to feel genuinely nervous for ninety minutes.