'Moon' shines as a meditative, sly commentary

To have any shot at enjoying the sci-fi mystery "Moon" you have to stop reading about it.

There probably isn't one review in 50 that will refrain from spilling the movie's beans, since there is almost no way to examine the movie without doing so.

So let us carefully say that "Moon" is a decent example of the kind of space-exploration movie we've seen since the original "Alien."

This type of movie (think "Outland") departs from the classic "Space Odyssey" view of space (antiseptic, mystical) and instead imagines it as a place that's a little dirtier, more lived-in, more human. A place that supplants Earth as a realm of industry and resource exploitation.

Spaceships feel like sweaty, dark, traveling factories, workers are exploited, and the concerns that own the equipment consider their human components expendable.

"Moon" is a good example of this genre. It stars hangdog Sam Rockwell as Sam Bell, assigned to work a three-year stint harvesting helium (extracted from rock, shipped back to Earth) from the surface of the moon.

Sam is at the end of his work commitment, and he's alone on the moon save for the mobile robot (the slightly sinister voice of Kevin Spacey) assigned to look after him.

You may gather from this set-up that "Moon" is not "Transformers." Don't expect fireworks. "Moon," in its early stretches, is a meditative movie about the psychological effects of living in isolation. It wants you to feel what life is like for Sam, a man in his third year of being alone.

Except that Sam Bell is not alone.

Whom he meets, how and why these meetings occur, are subjects best left for "Moon" to divulge. Suffice it to say the pace and the narrative eventfulness are boosted substantially.

"Moon" is not for those with attention deficit disorder. By no means, though, is it another "Solaris" (the remake) and the movie does tackle some weighty and (timely) moral issues as its mysteries are revealed and resolved.

It invites us to think about the logical extension of industrial policies that turn human life into a commodity, and it has a narrative inventiveness that makes sly commentary on its place in the sci-fi movie continuum.

Beware the unflappable, smooth-talking robot?

You'll have to see for yourself.