Such was an extraordinary event when the crew of Apollo 11, captained by astronaut Neil Armstrong, successfully landed on the moon and returned safely to earth. Punctuated by Armstrong's powerful declaration "it's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind," the image of Armstrong's first step on the moon's surface has become ingrained not only in American culture, but in world history, becoming an iconic and inspirational staple of the wonder man can achieve. In his follow-up to La La Land, director Damien Chazelle reteams with actor Ryan Gosling to bring Armstrong's great achievement to life, in the fittingly excellent First Man.
First Man is an extensive dissection of the years of intense training and planning that went into the Moon Landing at NASA. The film has a very heavy documentary touch to it, laying out in excruciating detail the many setbacks and smaller triumphs that led to its launch, and the mission manned by Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin to set foot on the moon. But at the same time, First Man's time is also split very evenly with the more personal struggles experienced by Neil closer to home, specifically the effect the mission should have on his family should it fail, especially due to the already powerful grieving experienced early on from the tragic death of his daughter.
At many points, First Man reminded me of a Steven Spielberg movie, who coincidentally serves as an executive producer and backs the film through his Dreamworks brand. So that influence is carried through to Damien Chazelle who showcases the long mission in detailed and extensive fashion, while also carrying this strong emotional undercurrent. But there was another director that this film reminded me of as well, and that's Paul Greengrass. Specifically, the movie reminded me a lot of what a Greengrass directed Apollo 13 may have been like, given the extensive reliance on POV framing and montage-y documentation put on display to further put us on edge.
As such, Chazelle, having already shown himself a great storyteller and visualist with La La Land and Whiplash, gets to further test his capabilities during those arduous testing phases. This sense of visceral intensity can be felt as early as the opening sequence, in which Neil is piloting an aircraft into the earth's outer atmosphere, that carries a distinctly Gravity-esque sense of suspense as Neil struggles to keep his craft from ballooning. These sequences set in space and within the cramped spacecrafts have such a potent claustrophobic constriction to them, the tight spacing within the pods becoming especially pronounced when the cold air of space blocks out all light, with only the glow of their equipment visible to them. Even outside the spacecrafts, the extensive training on land to prepare them isn't mitigated in any way. Some of these can be quite humorous to watch, including one point in which the recruits are subjected to prolonged disorientation testing, with many of them having visible vomit stains on their outfits in the very next scene.
But beyond the cute moments of humor, it's still a mission steeped in great peril all the way through. Even when viewing it in the context of retrospect, it's still a credit to Chazelle's touch, and the well-balanced approach of Josh Singer's script, that the film manages to maintain that lingering sense of dread. This is a mission with so many unpredictable variables, where any number of insignificant errors can result in casualties, and they do. One of the standout sequences comes midway through, in which Neil and his crew struggle to regain control of their craft, which begins spinning wildly out of control in almost seizure-like intensity, struggling not to pass out from the extreme g-forces. That's a squeamish sensation that Chazelle subjects us to, and while that means resorting to some shaky cam, it's use isn't jarring and only further heightens the sweat-inducing suspense of the film, and huge props go to his editor of choice Tom Cross for the seamless build of that tightly-wound tension.
However, that aforementioned montage-y feel does result in some minor losses. Namely that if you're name isn't Ryan Gosling or Claire Foy, your character is very likely to get the short stick. Because the film is intently focused on Neil, many of the other important figures that helped make this mission a reality, save perhaps for Jason Clarke's Ed White, tend to get pushed aside. The actors in those parts give excellent performances, including those the likes of Corey Stoll and Kyle Chandler, but many of them don't get the prominence they really should. I think the problem is that, in an effort to pull back and normalize them from their pedestals, they pull the focus back a little too far, sometimes only referring to them by their first names, at which point you may be confused by who these people are, or what their significance to the mission was. And while I love this movie, I did have this pervading thought that this may have worked better as a mini-series, therefore expanding the focus, and giving those astronauts more significance.
But I'm still willing to forgive this, because once again, this is Neil's story, and streamlining those side details ensures a greater character study of its central figure. Ryan Gosling is easily one of the finest actors currently working, and the film depends greatly on his ability to carry the movie on his shoulders, which he does extremely well. More importantly, he's able to lend intimacy to such a transcendental figure as Armstrong. Gosling has a reputation for being a very steely performer, with turns like Drive and Blade Runner 2049 showing his capabilities of expressing filtered emotions through his stoic visage, and here attempting to hold himself together for the good of the mission despite that ever-growing fear and dread, as well as still reeling from the grief over losing his daughter, leading him to become detached from his family life and at times outright deflect from them, he adds another restrained, but emotionally powerful performance to his chain of hits, in what is sure to be one of the finest performances of the year.
But not to be outshone is his wife Janet, played by Claire Foy of The Crown. And it feels like it would have been easy for her to be outshone, given her placement in the usually stock worried wife role, and playing second fiddle to a legend. But hers is a performance that manages to rise above such hindrances, as the earthbound anchor holding her family life together. Like Neil, there's a tremendous grief felt by Janet throughout the film, but hers is a more filtered approach compared to Neil's detached one. Having lived through it once, she knows all too well the possibility of experiencing it all over again, with some of the most affecting moments revolving around her silent reflection on the future. What's more frightening isn't the loss, it's the regret of never achieving closure and peace should the worst come to happen, of not taking that spare time left to embrace and reach mutual understanding, and Foy proves absolutely stellar in driving that melancholic feeling home.
All of this culminates in the famous launch and landing, and despite that lingering dread all throughout the film, those final sequences are absolutely captivating filmmaking. Not only in an inspiring and deeply emotional sense, but also in a purely visual sense. Those brief, but powerful moments on the moon's surface, it's bright grey powder spectacularly glowing against the pitch black backdrop of space, are some of the most enrapturing scenes of visual beauty I have experienced all year, all evidence of Hollywood filmmaking fading away as the film completely transports us to this incredible place, and we buy into the illusion of setting foot on the moon, and sharing in its low gravity bounce. We begin to feel as if we're living the sensation that Armstrong's famous "leap for mankind" implies, while also eliciting emotional catharsis for Neil's arduous journey.
It's a completely satisfying ending, right up to its perfect final shot, where Chazelle once again proves himself as a master of the "cut to black" shot. And that catharsis doesn't feel cheap, but expertly built and delivered on. Even knowing basic history and the events that unfold, you still feel and buy into that grim danger experienced at every curve ball, and so when that triumphant moment finally arrives, when that sigh of relief has been taken, it's the most satisfactory feeling you could ever hope to have. It isn't (and realistically couldn't be) the triumph that La La Land was, but it's still a supremely entertaining and enrapturing film, where having gone 3 for 3 now, Chazelle may easily be one of the best working directors and a master of his craft. Go see this movie, and see it on the biggest screen you possibly can. This if a prime film to be experienced in the most immersive setting you can possibly find.
****1/2 / *****
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