Netflix’s Spaceman Review
Adam Sandler ditches the comedy, but he does Still have a giant pet spider
WARNING: THIS ARTICLE MAY CONTAIN DISCUSSIONS involving SPOILERS FROM THE NETFLIX film. CONSIDER WHEN AND WHERE IT WOULD BE APPROPRIATE TO READ THIS PIECE.
It’s Lonely Out In Space
Space is a lonely place. It’s even more ironic that the different definitions of the word all exude the same amount of loneliness, as space can mean distance as well as the final frontier. Everything associated with the word space brings a sense of disconnection to the human nature of communication and community.
When I think of the final frontier in media, I can’t help but hum the tune from the classic Elton John song “Rocketman”. As Sir Elton perfectly encapsulated into words, “I miss the Earth so much, I miss my wife. It’s lonely out in space. On such a timeless flight. And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time, ‘til touchdown brings me ‘round again to find, I’m not the man they think I am at home.”
As if emulating those exact lyrics onto a film, Netflix’s new Spaceman attempts to convey that harrowing journey of loneliness into a 107 minute visual art therapy session. In fact the first 25 minutes of the film plays out almost exactly as those song lyrics describe. Czech astronaut Commander Jakub Procházka is on a solo space mission already 6 months outside of Earth’s reach. Tasked with investigating a majestical purple light that appeared in the sky four years ago, the wary explorer is the first human to reach the dangers of the mysterious cloud of dust and particles, called Chopra.
When we’re introduced to Jakub in the opening minutes of the film, there’s an eerie sense of silence and isolation even as he is broadcasting and hosting a Q&A publicity event back on Earth. We the audience are immediately informed that although it appears everything is fine, Jakub and his wife, the same pregnant woman he left back home for this mission, were not on ideal terms. Lenka, the free-spirited spouse of Jakub, issues a privately recorded message stating she is leaving her Spaceman husband. Jakub’s mental state has already been deteriorating for some time now due to the extreme isolation he’s been thrust under during this dangerous mission.
Where Spaceman gets whacky, or arguably philosophically deep, is when Jakub encounters an arachnid-looking being on his spaceship who can telepathically communicate with him. Not knowing if the mental pressure has finally gotten to him, Jakub initially believes the spider to be a figment of his imagination. However, as his loneliness spreads as the realization that his marriage is over, the astronaut slowly opens his life up to the creature. He even names the alien Hanuš as the name retains an emotional connection to his childhood. The two space refuges track through Jakub’s painful memories and explore what made him and his relationship with Lenka deteriorate as they approach Chopra together.
LEaving a Lasting Impression
This is where the floodgates of Spaceman open into their attempt at harnessing the artistry of an impressionist film. Netflix adapted this screenplay from a 2017 novel called Spaceman of Bohemia by Jaroslav Kalfař. Somewhere in the translation to the silver screen, Director Johan Renck turned the art direction into a mixture of generic Hollywood sci-fi frames with a sprinkle of disjointed barrel distorted flashbacks. That’s essentially the entire film in a nutshell. I thought the cinematography was excellent in certain scenes as it really embarked on the themes of loneliness through minimal streaks of light across the sole human in the vastness of space. While the emptiness of the final frontier is daunting, the small chambers of his spaceship in which most of the film takes place are what sends a crippling sense of confinement down my spine as a viewer. Prior to Hanuš’ appearance, Spaceman eerily strings viewers along with its score and lingering wide shots to promote a somewhat horror or thriller vibe. From the way things were going early on, I was expecting jump scares at any moment. This film takes you for a ride as the thriller-style pacing of the opening scenes quickly disappears altogether and warps into a sort of French impressionist-lite form of cinema.
What we’re left with is a moody pattern of temporal edits intercutting between Jakub on his ship, Lenka as she escapes to a retreat for pregnant women, and spatially distorted flashbacks of their relationship. It’s a disjointed mess that misses the intent of the emotional disconnect between lovers that the production was trying to convey. Or at least I didn’t feel much sympathy or empathy for any of the humans.
Hanuš acts as a spiritual guide on Jakub’s mental and literal journey to Chopra. As an ambitious man who discarded his emotional connection to the world in order to accomplish his goal, the entire story of Spaceman was for Hanuš to help Jakub free himself of guilt. As the alien explained, these were illogical human emotions that the arachnid could not relate to. It’s also one of the traits that drew Hanuš to Jakub’s ship as his immense hidden grief from trauma related to his father overshadowed the prospects for the rest of his life. Spaceman tries to make it deeper than it really needed to be.
Capturing Drama From Comedy
The truth is, Adam Sandler and Netflix gave us a film about a lonely man learning to say goodbye to his pet spider.
While I may not have resonated with the message the story propagates, it wasn’t for lack of effort from Adam Sandler. Now in the latter stages of his career, the legendary comedian has shifted over to more serious drama roles during the life of his Netflix contract. Regardless of genre, Sandler has always been able to captivate the look of a lost soul through his facial reactions. In many ways, playing a mentally decaying lonely astronaut isn’t much different from the selfish prick characters he’s mastered over the years like a Happy Gilmore.
Early on in the film, I couldn’t help but correlate Adam Sandler’s performance here with fellow 90’s comedian star Jim Carrey’s 2007 thriller film, The Number 23. While that film wasn’t Jim Carrey’s first foray outside of comedy, nor was it critically acclaimed, it did showcase a darker, more edgier side to his acting. Like The Number 23, Spaceman explores a moodier and a more philosophically driven form of acting than what we normally see from Sandler. However, he wasn’t completely successful in this serious portrayal as I found myself having a hard time taking him or Paul Dano’s Hanuš too seriously as their relationship progressed deeper.
Dano’s soothing voiced spider provided a contrast to the potential premise that the alien would be harmful to Jakub. Immediately after making its presence known, Hanuš declares that it meant no harm and merely wanted to reach the beginning and the end of time without being alone. I was initially a bit creeped out by the giant arachnid, but as his screen time became more prominent, I oddly enough found it to be rather cute. Hanuš’ large group of round eyeballs began resembling cute kittens in a meme to me. When Sandler’s Jakub finally accepts his bond with Hanuš and goes in for an embrace in act three, the sight of Hanuš’ 8 tarsus’ wrapping around the back of the being he calls “Skinny Human” was straight up comical. If they ended up kissing, I would not have batted an eye, because once again, this is Adam Sandler we’re talking about here. While he acted admirably for much of the film, scenes like that embrace with a giant spider were difficult for his facial expressions to pull off. His emotionally vulnerable face is nearly the same as his dumbstruck look from his past works on Mr. Deeds, or Big Daddy. It’s extremely difficult for a comedian to equate a different emotion out of viewers and I would say Adam Sandler probably only half succeeded with this role.
When I explore the themes of loneliness and embracing things that truly matter in life, I find that Spaceman also comes up short with their implementation. There are a lot of sci-fi, space stories that convey the absence of social interaction as an exploration of what makes a human unique. Shinkai’s Voices of a Distant Star, Nolan’s Interstellar, and even Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, are cinematic pieces that showcase the mental strain of a theoretical isolation through the trials of space. It certainly felt like Netflix’s Spaceman was attempting to walk that line to create a mentally stimulating story for viewers to consider their own place in the universe. Many people put their own ambitions above that of their spouse’s health or even their own. Where the film fails to connect with viewers is the decision to use an alien that looks like what Hanuš ended up being.
There’s a serious flaw in identity. Spaceman is not a frightening film. It’s honestly not as philosophical as it thinks it is. It’s definitely not a popcorn flick you’ll throw on over the summer. Yet it tries to lure viewers into accepting that it’s all three of those things. The truth is, Adam Sandler and Netflix gave us a film about a lonely man learning to say goodbye to his pet spider. Spaceman isn’t a Sandler comedy, but after reading that premise, it may as well have been one.
Alex
Caught in between the conundrum of his fascination with retro and the future, Alex has a very unique taste in technology. Never one to follow trends like his millennial peers yet constantly desiring to get ahead of the curve, he sees technology like he does his other love: comic books. Always looking for the best value or a hidden gem, his collector mindset reflects on some of his favorite gadgets: the Moto X (2015), HTC U11 and the Google Pixelbook. If there’s a good tech deal out there, Alex is on the hunt!