Let me begin by saying outright that comparisons to last year's stoic-yet-sensitive Neil Armstrong biopic First Man are definitely warranted. There are many parallels between Ryan Gosling's Armstrong and Brad Pitt's similarly stone-faced astronaut Roy McBride, and even many similarities in other elements of the storytelling. I'll also go ahead and say that there isn't much that Ad Astra brings to the table that First Man doesn't do better. That being said, for the sci-fi savvy and fans of visually gorgeous filmmaking, there's plenty to chew on here.
In an unspecified but "near" future, Major Roy McBride is a decorated and highly respected astronaut, soldier, and engineer, though his reputation as the son of all-time space legend Clifford McBride (Tommy Lee Jones) precedes him. 16 years ago, Clifford went missing on a mission called the Lima Project, intent on searching for intelligent extraterrestrial life from the edges of our solar system. He and his colleagues were presumed dead. But when a series of mysterious and unpredictable electromagnetic "surges" threaten the safety and infrastructure of Earth, Roy's superiors inform him that his father and the other Lima Project scientists had been experimenting with dangerous anti-matter technology, which could be the source of the surges. Roy is enlisted for a classified mission to Mars to attempt to make contact with any possible remaining survivors from the Lima Project, including and especially his father.
Ad Astra is a film designed to derive empathy and interest through atmosphere. The film's mood, created by camera work, set design, lighting choices, and pace, are all tied to Roy's own mental and emotional state. He doesn't have much of anyone to talk to, so we learn most of his thoughts and feelings through his narration. It's about as close to a first-person perspective as a movie can get without literally strapping a camera to Brad Pitt's forehead and shooting the whole thing like that. And for that, I thoroughly admire writer and director James Gray's filmmaking prowess and full-bodied commitment to the tone.
With that in mind, Ad Astra is very slow, depending more on a quiet, contemplative tone to create the experience, rather than on actual events occurring on-screen. It's not objectively a bad way of telling a story; in fact, I've been known to gush and guffaw over lengthy, patient, meditative examinations of character at the movie theater. But Gray really pushes (and, at times, exceeds) the limits for what feels worthwhile. The issue, as I can best detect it, is with how the film defines Roy as a character—or, rather, doesn't.
Roy is most obviously defined as a hard-working, job-focused man who has struggled to connect emotionally with himself or the people around him. This is shown most clearly in Pitt's restrained performance and in some early, brief vignettes of Roy's wife (Liv Tyler) leaving him. It's a good start for the character, even if perhaps a little tired. Where the parameters of his character get tricky, and where I was kind of taken out of the experience, was when Roy's narration periodically became absurdly bigheaded and inordinately poetic musings on humanity, the environment, and how we treat each other. It's not that I don't think someone like Roy couldn't be capable of such thoughts; it's more that I saw no reason for him to be thinking about them aloud in the context of this story. Gray can use his art to send whatever messages he wants, and those he chooses to insert here are valuable truths in and of themselves. But there is a dissonance between what Gray wants to convey about Roy's seemingly comatose humanity and his penchant for dropping poster-worthy truisms about the state of the world. As a result, I found it difficult and occasionally grating to really latch on to Roy as a character, because I couldn't take him seriously.
Pitt's quiet performance is commendable, though I'm not sure it registered with me as "impressive," outside of maybe one scene. That's not a knock on his acting at all; the character and how Gray's script uses him didn't require as much of Pitt as some of his other roles. Tommy Lee Jones similarly gives an impeccable, even if not riveting, performance in his small role.
The real takeaway from Ad Astra is its craft. Gray stated back in 2016 with the announcement of the film that he wanted to create "the most realistic depiction of space travel" in film. I lack the knowledge of aeronautics to determine whether or not that's true, but I do know that space is big and travel takes a long time, so they nailed the big and slow part. But its entrancing quality comes from its aesthetic. There isn't a prettier film yet this year, and I'll be surprised if any in the final quarter surpass it. Nearly every frame is absolutely gorgeous, and it manages to be so thanks to the perfect marriage of production design and cinematography. I was tired and felt like the life had been sucked out of me when I left the theater, but I can't honestly say I was bored, and I think that was largely in thanks to the visuals never failing, even when the writing stumbled.
Gray has given us a substantial, thoughtful, and visually breathtaking sci-fi epic, and for that, he and everyone involved ought to be proud. I was glad to have experienced it. Unfortunately, it falls short of its potential due to a lack of justification for its plodding, quiet length and lack of profound truth. Despite being chock-full of overt messages about humanity, only a meager one or two strike me as fresh or compelling enough ideas to make the endurance run in the name of atmospherics worthwhile. I don't like to toss around the word "pretentious," especially not at what I consider to be a good movie, but perhaps Gray could have let his ideas marinate a little longer in the concept stage, so that he had something more interesting to reveal through the film's measured and protracted presentation.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SYLQdxec5lM&w=585