Ad Astra is an original sci-fi title from indie filmmaker James Gray (The Lost City of Z) and one of the quietest studio films in years. In the near future, Roy McBride (Brad Pitt; The Tree of Life), a decorated astronaut, is called in for a classified mission. His father Clifford (Tommy Lee Jones; No Country for Old Men), a hero and space pioneer, was sent on a decades long mission to Neptune that went missing years ago. The government now believes that he may still be alive and that his ship may have something to do with the dangerous power surges wreaking havoc on Earth. They hope that Roy, as Clifford’s son, can contact him.
Gray’s depiction of space is merciless and worn. At this point in time, bases have been established on the moon and on Mars with even commercial travel available. These environments are nothing new and have lost their sense of wonder. They aren’t quite the grimy settings of Blade Runner, but space travel has become as mundane as an airplane trip and bases on the moon look like run down subway stations. Roy remarks that humans have created the very things they ran away from when leaving Earth. The main difference from life on Earth and life in space is the inherent danger it carries. The slightest mistake could lead to death in the harsh, unforgiving setting. The moon has unpatrolled areas, where travelers are at risk of attack, and the power surges mean spacecraft could malfunction at any time. It makes the film’s vision of the future both pragmatic and precarious.
This danger is further shown in the film’s setpieces. On Earth, on other planets, and in space, Ad Astra is not above thrilling its audience. Gray, a director not previously known for his action skills, stages each scene with intensity. Where other films like Gravity repeated similar scenarios to the point of diminishing returns, Ad Astra uses completely different perspectives for each climactic event. The action scenes feel original and perilous. Even when it’s clear something is about to go wrong, Gray does so with a completely shocking and unexpected danger that keep the sequence as fresh as it is deadly.
The majority of the film relies on Pitt’s performance and he is more than suited to the task. Pitt’s face dominates the screen and is a complex painting of emotion. He is at once calm and professional while still communicating the anxieties he hides underneath. Despite Roy’s incredible talents and feats across so many areas, he isn’t cocky. Pitt makes him a dutiful soldier, committed to his task above all else, including his own feelings. Within his always capable demeanor is sadness. There is an air of despair beneath Pitt’s performance and he tows the line between a firm external appearance and internal struggle in a way that would make Ryan Gosling jealous.
The film has a surprising amount of voiceover from Pitt that is used to contrast his inner feelings with his image. While it does provide needed insight into Roy’s state of mind, Gray is overreliant on this technique. The sheer amount of narration is intrusive and it prevents the audience from drawing their own conclusions as the narration loudly and frequently tells instead of letting the film’s visuals show Roy’s emotions.
While the title and plot may imply an outward focus, Gray’s interests are internal. On the outside, Roy is the ideal soldier. Characters comment on his unbreakable composure stating that he has never been recorded with a pulse over 80 beats per minute, even when his life was in danger. He is constantly facing psych evaluations, all of which point to a single desired ideal: cold, unfeeling stoicism. The ideal space explorer shows and feels no emotion and, on the surface, Roy meets this criteria, but he can’t reconcile these so-called virtues with his emotions. He still feels anxiety, still misses his father, still misses his wife, but is forced to compartmentalize these thoughts and numb himself to fit into the desired mold. Gray uses the film’s deliberate pace to linger on Pitt’s expressions and force the audience to evaluate them beyond his initial impression. The film becomes an exploration of how the ideal of a stalwart hero manifests in real life and the consequences and conflict it creates in those who strive for it. As Roy’s voyage continues, we see him grapple with these unattainable goals and Pitt’s inner turmoil is deeply moving, despite the overuse of voiceovers. With Ad Astra, Gray has created a thrilling, contemplative, and emotional outer space voyage to explore the inner self.
4/5 stars.
After jokingly picking up plastic instruments at a birthday party for a friend’s child, an increasingly bitter 30-something married couple makes the unlikely decision to start a band together, using their fights as inspiration for their songs. Writer-director-star Zoe Lister-Jones and Adam Polly lead the band with some help on the drums from their strange neighbor played by Fred Armisen. The songs may be amateurish, but the performances are enthusiastic and the lyrics are relatable. As the band develops, so does the central relationship. The music-as-couple’s-therapy conceit brings playfulness to the film and their quarreling adds humor to each of the songs. The gradual rekindling and reevaluation of their romance through rock and roll is a heartwarming transition.
Darren Aronofsky (Requiem for a Dream) deserves some type of award. Not just for writing and directing this film, but for convincing a major studio to finance and distribute it in a wide release. Nothing about mother! screams mass appeal. This is the work of a filmmaker of extreme talent with the swaggering confidence and sufficient budget to attempt such a crazy endeavor. A woman (Jennifer Lawrence; The Hunger Games) lives in the countryside with her writer husband (Javier Bardem; No Country for Old Men) in idyllic peace until a fan knocks on their door. Before long the house descends into chaos as droves of unwanted guests commandeer her space, becoming increasingly rabid for her husband’s approval. Interpretations range from ecological damage to biblical stories to the insatiable ego of an artist but what remains constant is the sheer skill needed to pull something like this off. mother! a mesmerizing, dizzying, often frantic film that could only be made by a director with Aronofsky’s originality and mad ambition.
It’s hard to think of a film that turns an unsettling premise into such a joy to watch. Without spoiling the setup (it’s better to not know before viewing), James (Kyle Mooney; Saturday Night Live) rejoins his family as an adult and is obsessed with Brigsby Bear, a TV show that only he has had access to. His parents encourage him to reintegrate with society, but fandom remains his highest priority. With no more episodes being developed, he decides to create a movie that will be Brigsby’s final chapter. Instead of ridiculing James’ unrealistic goals, the film takes every opportunity to support him. Characters band together around his infectious enthusiasm and childlike wonder. As James embarks on his journey, his naivete and confusion about the norms of society provide an endless source of humor. Mooney’s effervescent charm permeates every frame of the film. It’s a counterpoint to our cynical times that is bursting with genuine exuberance and unbridled optimism.
Greta Gerwig (Damsels in Distress) could not have had a more auspicious debut than this. Her first film as a solo writer-director draws on her own experiences growing up in Sacramento and follows Lady Bird (Saoirse Ronan; Brooklyn) in her last year of high school. The fiercely independent daughter of an equally strong-willed mother (Laurie Metcalf), Lady Bird struggles to find her place in her hometown. She drifts through different social groups, boyfriends, and arguments with her mother. As a young woman trying to define herself, Ronan captures the conflicted, confused teenage experience and Gerwig is completely in tune with her difficulties. She separates her film from other teen stories by examining not only Lady Bird, but an entire home (including her mother, father, and brother) in transition. She views these characters as equally important and shows how each is simultaneously facing their own life altering challenges. Her ability to balance multiple plotlines and see the greater context of each character’s arc make this one of the best coming-of-age movies in recent memory.
Despite being my top pick for last year, this may be the most idiosyncratic choice on this list. Terence Davies’ biopic on the life of Emily Dickinson will not be for everyone. It’s slow moving with the elaborate, often flowery dialogue of the period and makes no attempt to build to a traditional climax. Rather, the film presents Dickenson’s adult life in deeply sympathetic detail. Cynthia Nixon (Sex and the City) delivers a career defining, nuanced performance as the great poet.