Courtney Howard // Film Critic
SPACEMAN
Rated R, 1 hour and 47 minutes
Directed by: Johan Renck
Starring: Adam Sandler, Carey Mulligan, Paul Dano, Kunal Nayyar, Isabella Rossellini, Lena Olin, Sunny Sandler
We could all use a trip to space with a Nutella-loving, mind-reading mutant tarantula, who talks and plays psychotherapist to a stressed Adam Sander. Blessedly SPACEMAN provides this surprisingly soulful, tender journey we never knew we needed in our lives. Based on the book Spaceman of Bohemia by Jaroslav Kalfar, director Johan Renck’s quietly evocative adaptation – which vibes on the same tonal scale as AD ASTRA and SOLARIS (2002) – explores genuinely resonant issues dealing with interpersonal relationships, fatherhood, marriage, identity and generational trauma. Best of all, in the end, it provides us with a beautifully enlightening catharsis.
Czech cosmonaut Jakub Prochazka (Sandler) is halfway through a solo year-long trek into space when he begins to suffer a bit of a nervous breakdown. Much to his denial and chagrin, he’s been dubbed “the loneliest man in the world” thanks to his isolated lifestyle on the ship. Four years prior, a massive purple-pink glowing phenomena – nicknamed the “Chopra Cloud” – mysteriously manifested like a scar, ripping a fissure in the night sky. He’s been sent by Commissioner Tuma (Isabella Rossellini) on an exploratory mission to closely observe and report on the cloud, gathering particles and studying its anomalies. But as he approaches his destination, a giant spider-like creature, later named Hanus (voiced by a softly mono-toned Paul Dano), appears and complicates matters, pestering him about his memories.
As it turns out, the annoying arachnid stowaway is curious about the life on Earth Jakub left behind – one that involves long-suffering wife Lenka (Carey Mulligan), who is anything but the typical “woman who waits at home” endemic in films of this ilk. She’s feeling taken for granted, neglected and understandably upset that Jakub has emotionally and physically abandoned her while she’s pregnant. In addition to marital strife, Jakub is grappling with grief over his toxic relationship with his long-deceased, disciplinary father (Marian Roden), who secretly worked for a restrictive government regime. But as the pair slowly form a friendship, poring over Jakub’s painful past, the mission grows tumultuous since Jakub refuses to confront some very real obstacles impeding any real discoveries.
A credit to Kalfar and adapting screenwriter Colby Day that, for as much as the narrative traffics in blatant metaphors, the pair find gobs of subtext to explore. In their capable hands, it’s a brilliant character study that, while very specific to a throwback era, is tinged with emotionally impactful universalities surrounding neglect, communication and parental worry. Jakub’s angst is omnipresent in the atmospheric pull of the picture. There’s a sense of palpable dread accompanying his impending fatherhood when his own childhood taught him to not only be fearful, but emotionally removed from tough, traumatic situations. The rip in the sky is an allusion to the deep scar he still bears from his rough upbringing in a time of upheaval in his communist homeland.
Kalfar and Day also don’t set the movie exclusively within the claustrophobic confines of a janky, cluttered Eastern European spaceship. They frequently cut away to the growing travails on Earth, for a press conference (where Sandler’s daughter Sunny, who led her own fantastic Netflix film last year, makes a cameo appearance) and calls to ground control guide Peter (Kunal Nayyar). Lenka also journeys to her caring mother’s (Lena Olin) home and a remote all-female commune in the wilderness. Plus, the shots of the spaceship from the outside traveling through space recall INTERSTELLAR’s wondrously immersive imagery.
On the technical side, the filmmakers represent zero gravity elegantly. The fluid camera glides around softly, tracking Jackub’s psyche. When he feels in control, the camera spins clockwise, and when he’s in a state of panic, it spins counterclockwise. And when he’s at his lowest point, drunk on vodka, he spins as the Max Richter score swells. Jakub’s flashback sequences, shot with a distorted lens, emphasize a visceral sense of hazy disconnection in the edit, courtesy of John Axelrad, Scott Cummings and Simon Smith’s staccato cuts. Most striking is when a corrupt, old video call from Lenka auto-plays, disfiguring half her face, as it represents his own memories being distortions of a truth he’s not willing to see, let alone confront.
Sandler, who’s always terrific when given a flawed, introspective character to play, finds moments to reflect, refine and redefine, hitting us in our guts. Mulligan brings a naturalism, tenderness and ferocity to Lenka, courtesy of her character’s construction. Her unwillingness to play the dutiful wife gives her a rootable, fascinating arc wholly her own, independent of the male protagonist’s. Through her assured performance, we see the lacking aspects within the marriage’s breakdown and, later, what will be its inevitable breakthrough. Dano’s voice is soothing and calming despite Hanus’ creepy, crawly form.
Though this movie may not work for those with a severe case of arachnophobia, it’s bound to connect with anyone seeking a meaningful story.
Grade: B+
SPACEMAN is now playing in select theaters (The Bay Theater in Pacific Palisades being one of them). It begins streaming on Netflix on March 1.
