Review: ‘Meanwhile on Earth’ is a Meditative Look at Grief

Loss is difficult enough to process under normal circumstances. But when there are extenuating factors, like an unsolved murder or unconfirmed disappearance, it can be that much harder on those left behind. Any glimmer of hope that maybe things weren’t as bad as they initially seemed or that a loved one might still be alive can be utterly transformative and provoke illogical action from someone determined to do whatever possible to change the odds. Meanwhile on Earth doubles as an exploration of human grief and a muted sci-fi tale of extraterrestrial interference.

Elsa (Megan Northam) longs to be reunited with her brother Franck (Sébastien Pouderoux), who went missing during his first mission as an astronaut. A statue pays tribute to him and Elsa frequently drives by it, reminded of what she’s lost. She is startled to receive a message from Franck one night and clings to the hope that he might be alive, only to discover that the nature of his contact reveals a darker situation, one that compels her to do whatever she must for a chance to see him alive again.

Meanwhile on Earth is the second feature film from French filmmaker Jérémy Clapin, whose debut I Lost My Body was an incredibly creative look at another larger-than-life reunion attempt. While that Oscar-nominated animated film was based on a novel, Meanwhile on Earth is an original work written by Clapin, one that feels just as lonely. Franck was a part of Elsa just like the hand used to belong to its body, and that absence is felt prominently in every scene, with a euphoric rush of hope resonant each time Elsa hears Franck’s voice and feels herself getting closer to the possibility of seeing him again.

This is an intimate experience, with the camera staying physically close to Elsa the whole time to latch on to emotions driving her. There are voices heard in her ear and from those who are actually next to or near her, but she still remains the most prominent and important one. Less is definitely more in this case, and this sci-fi story isn’t one filled with dazzling visual effects but instead much lower-key cues that indicate the interplanetary facets of its plot that can’t be explained by current-day technology.

The minimalist approach employed by Clapin and his artistic collaborators, including I Lost My Body composer Dan Levy, makes this film feel like a dream. Already haunted and plagued by regret and a sense of hopelessness, Elsa connects with something that she can only hear but not see. The events that follow related to what she’s asked to do and what happens as a result do seem like confirmation that this isn’t just all in her head, but there’s a reading of this film that could interpret its entire narrative as invented as a coping mechanism that Elsa desperately wants to believe isn’t a work of fiction or her imagination.

Meanwhile on Earth won’t be for everyone, since it’s not blockbuster sci-fi fare with big explosions or a typical idea of what aliens are. Instead, it requires an immersion into the hope offered by a connection, a more primitive idea of what contact means when it’s not entirely clear what’s on the other end. Understanding and making sense of everything is the next leap, but this film keeps audiences stranded somewhere before that point, demanding trust in its protagonist’s action as she does whatever she can – and whatever many in her position would surely do – to hold on to the chance of a happier ending than the one she’s found. This film’s melancholy lingers, fittingly like the longing Elsa feels throughout it.

Movie Rating: 7/10

Awards Buzz: While I Lost My Body did score a somewhat unexpected Oscar nomination in a specialty category, this film feels like a stronger contender at the Film Independent Spriit Awards and other more niche awards bodies that might appreciate its more inventive fare.