I like Adam Sandler in this mode. A casual look might dismiss him as sleepwalking through yet another quasi-mumblecore part, complete with a disheveled beard, but he always brings much more than that to the role. There’s a deep humanism and vulnerability to him that Sandler has perfected in the years since his stellar turn in Punch Drunk Love.
That subtlety is on full display in Spaceman, the high-concept, low-budget drama from Johan Renck. Sandler plays the Czechoslovakian astronaut, Jakub, on a solitary mission to investigate a cosmic phenomenon in the far reaches of our solar system. It’s been months since he left, and his only contact with home is the occasional check-in with his fussy handler, and equally fussy promoters. It’s never stated outright, but in this future, space missions are tantamount to NASCAR: a marketing opportunity for vultures.
Meanwhile, Jakub’s marriage to Lenka is disintegrating. It already was before he left, but his absence has only revealed a better life without him. Unable and unwilling to face his failures, Jakub suddenly encounters a spider-like alien living aboard his spaceship, whom he names Hanuš.
Hanuš isn’t a malevolent presence. Instead, he claims to be an explorer, like Jakub, and that the latter’s grief compelled Hanuš to make contact. Together, the mismatched duo form an unexpected friendship at the outskirts of existence, as Jakub begins to open up about his fears.
How you react to the plot description will dictate whether Spaceman is for you. Some will undoubtedly see it as twee and too odd for its own good. It’s neither fully sci-fi nor kitchen sink drama, instead planting its foot firmly in both camps. At first, the tonal whiplash is jarring, until you realize that frustration is part of the point. When faced with the enormity of existence, we can’t help but look backwards.
None of this would work without the stellar performances from leads Sandler, Carey Mulligan, and Paul Dano, who voices Hanuš. Sandler and Mulligan are heartbreaking as the couple spinning away from one another, both figuratively and literally. They rarely share the screen, yet Mulligan delivers a powerhouse performance that communicates longing, betrayal, anger, and deep love. You understand how someone can emotionally still occupy the same space as you, even when they’re light-years away.
Dano, for his part, is charming, comforting, yet somehow unsettling as Hanuš. It’s yet another testament to his malleability as an actor that he makes the creature a lovable entity, even if you’re like me and have a fear of spiders. Like Wilson in the great Cast Away, Hanuš is the unlikely star of the show.
Spaceman is far from traditional in many ways, yet it is old-fashioned in the best kind of way. Its sets are limited, and, for the most part, there are never more than two people sharing the screen. It could work as a play, if someone figured out how to control Hanuš in front of a live audience.
It takes some wild swings in structure and its conclusion, some of which are bound to alienate viewers even further. The structure feels like a short story stretched to a feature film, yet I wouldn’t take away anything from its lingering narrative. It asks you to go along for the ride and not worry too much about the science. At the gates of the unknown, we are alone with our thoughts and questions.
By the end, I didn’t question the logic of the narrative. But I felt genuinely moved, like something inside me had shifted without noticing.
That alone is worth the trip.
Toisto 