Saturn (2024) Review: A Striking Achievement!

April 23, 2025April 23, 2025 Surya Komal 0 Comments Dominic Bogart, Elijah Maximus, English Movies, Hollywood, Hollywood Movie Reviews, Hollywood Movies, Piercey Dalton, Saturn, Sci-Fi

A strange planet appears in the sky, and with it, the quiet life of a small seaside family starts to come apart. That’s the premise of Saturn, a grounded, emotionally-charged sci-fi film that blends cosmic mystery with deeply personal stakes. At the center is James (Dominic Bogart), a husband and father whose past begins to catch up with him just as the world is tipping toward chaos. As tension grows around him—globally and at home—he’s forced to confront a secret he’s buried for years. A secret that might be the key to humanity’s survival.

The plot leans more into character than spectacle, but what truly stands out is how it looks. The camera work in Saturn is something special—honestly, it’s the kind of visual craftsmanship you’d expect from a much bigger production. Every shot by cinematographer, Matthew Lowe feels purposeful and grand. From the nostalgic calm of the town to the sweeping, frozen beaches, the film captures landscape in a way that feels both epic and intimate.

The beach scenes, especially, are breathtaking, with a stillness that lingers. And then there’s the nuclear reactor—an eerie, towering space that somehow feels both terrifying and beautiful. The color palette stays muted throughout, casting a subtle, washed-out hue over everything, which works perfectly for the film’s reflective tone. This isn’t just pretty framing—it’s visual storytelling at its best. Honestly, some of these shots deserve to be projected on an IMAX screen. For an indie film, the cinematography is absolutely next-level.

What really pulled me in wasn’t the sci-fi mystery or the looming planet overhead—it was the family. At its core, Saturn is an emotional, intimate drama about three people trying to hold onto each other as the world slips away. James, Sarah, and little George aren’t just characters reacting to the end of the world—they’re a family trying to understand each other in the face of it. And that’s where Eric Esau’s writing really shines. The way their relationships shift, how fear and love coexist in their conversations, how grief and hope trade places in a single glance—it’s all so beautifully observed. The pacing is slow, no doubt about it, but I was completely invested. Watching this family unravel and try to piece themselves back together is where the film finds its soul.

The performances across the board are strong, with Dominic Bogart grounding James in both strength and sorrow. Piercey Dalton brings an emotional clarity to Sarah that feels deeply lived-in, and Elijah Maximus is absolutely endearing as George—never overplayed, always honest. The dynamic between them carries the emotional weight of the film, and it works. And let’s not overlook the score and sound design—they’re subtle but powerful, swelling at just the right moments and giving the quieter scenes the gravity they deserve. It all adds to the film’s atmosphere, which hums with tension even in stillness.

That said, the sci-fi elements didn’t land quite as strongly for me. The premise of a rogue planet suddenly appearing? Fantastic setup. The idea of mysterious “Shepherds” tasked with protecting Earth? Intriguing. But as the story leans more into those mythic, speculative elements in the second half, it loses a bit of the emotional focus that made the earlier parts so compelling. The balance between the family drama and the sci-fi mythology tips too far, and some of that magic gets lost in the shift.

Still, Saturn is a striking achievement. It’s thoughtful, visually stunning, and emotionally grounded in a way you don’t often see in genre films. Eric Esau has created something that dares to ask what it means to be a hero when your world is falling apart—and more importantly, what it means to stay human. It’s not a perfect film, but it left an impression, and I’ll be thinking about those final moments—and that winter beach—for a long time.