In the film Another Earth scientists discover a new planet in the sky identical to our own right down to the people inhabiting it. Instead of perplexing over the science behind such a surprising anomaly—tides, gravitational forces, physics—the population is thrown into questioning what this means to each of them individually and as a whole. There is the possibility that those duplicates inhabiting Earth Two have made better choices than us, or perhaps, different mistakes. There is the possibility that they are as curious about us as we are about them, that they have some of the same questions.
On the same night of the sudden appearance of Earth Two in space orbiting our sun, Rhoda, a gifted teenager, is celebrating her admittance to MIT. But the planet's distracting presence in the night sky leads to a deadly car crash with Rhoda at the wheel of one of the vehicles involved. She survives, but her life is thrown off its course by the tragedy. Some years later, Rhoda lives an existence of dangerously self-absorbed guilt and regret. She is yoked with these feelings and spends more and more time gazing at the looming specter of Earth Two, visible even in daylight now, wondering about fate and mistakes.
Depressed to the point of self-harm, unable to find forgiveness from herself, she approaches the only other survivor of the car crash. John is a former music professor and composer whose existence is also in disarray ever since that tragic night. Under false pretenses, Rhoda insinuates herself into his life, and they begin a strange and timid romance greatly hindered by loss and the weight and size of Rhoda's secret.
By this time, space travel to Earth Two has become a reality, and there is a contest for a free seat aboard one of the first flights. Individuals must write a 500-word essay describing why he or she is the most qualified candidate to visit the mirror planet. Rhoda sends a submission and wins the spot. You can begin to guess where this development leads.
Director Mike Cahill worked on nature documentaries for the National Geographic Society before making this film his first fictional foray. There is a raw feeling to the proceedings that seems sincerely organic and truthful. This is despite the often overly precocious score or the overtly significant slow-motion tracking shots. Cahill melds the threads of story about loss and regret and those of the science fiction well. This feels like something that could happen, if only because the questions raised seem so organic, as if ones that each of us would ask upon the sudden appearance of a mirror planet in the sky. An occurrence beyond comprehension. Something that could only lead to the deepest soul-searching for each of us.
