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The Astronaut's Wife (a Film Review)

Negative Reviews Aren’t Necessarily a Bad Thing

Prompted by Tubi to finally watch The Astronaut’s Wife before it left the streaming platform on Friday, June 3oth, I went into it kind of expecting a less than stellar film. I was, however, cautiously optimistic that I’d like it. I was hoping to find one of those rare gems of filmmaking that I’d, at the very least, respect and appreciate, and maybe even love. Those type of experiences don’t happen often, but when they do, it’s worth every second to risk it. To better illustrate my point, it’s entirely possible that I might not have tried it at all, were it not for the film’s alleged saving grace: the performances.

 According to pretty most reviews, (both professional and everyday consumers,) the one quality that saves it from being tossed in the proverbial rubbish heap is the performances of its stars, Johnny Depp and Charlize Theron. They’re said to be on-point. That alone convinced me.

”What I am is a true American hero. Now, the President of the United States of America said that, and you heard him.”

Written and directed by Rand Ravich, The Astronaut’s Wife reeled me in with its opening scene, and it isn’t long before I’m transported by it. Some of those first scenes are beautiful to behold, and I don’t compliment it lightly. It’s fascinating to simply watch the actions of the main players and listen to their carefully chosen words. It’s through those that the audience learns about the close-knit relationship between Depp’s Spencer and Theron’s Jillian, whom he affectionately refers calls Jill. Their marriage is complicated, and is seemingly made stronger by their mutual respect and a deep, admirable love. There’s a lot at stake, and in Ravich’s directorial debut, he makes those stakes clear.

Par for the course, it’s not long before everything they thought they knew and believed to be true comes crashing down like a riotous game of Jenga. Their world can only implode. The latter is emphasized for dramatic effect, because one of the common criticisms speaks directly toward this. With an approval rating of just fifteen percent on Rotten Tomatoes, and an audience score of thirty-three percent, the critic’s consensus is that the film “moves at a snail’s pace and fails to generate enough intrigue to keep viewers interested.”

Not to be dismissive of many, highly regarded reviews (even Siskel & Ebert said that while they didn’t hate The Astronaut’s Wife, untilmately they were apathetic towards it,) but the first act isn't meant to fly by with lightening-quick speed. It’s just not. Furthermore, the pacing is near perfection. In fact, I wouldn’t object to a little more time with Mr. and Mrs. Armacost, to sit with them before the inevitable craziness ensues. Instead of a plot moving at breakneck speed, it’s a predominantly taut, psychological thriller set in a similar vein as The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, with a fairly even balance of science fiction and horror.

As the title suggests, the main focal point revolves around Jillian, as it explores the impact on her psyche and her physical and mental well-being. Theron gives everything to her portrayal of the doting wife and the passionate educator. In many ways, she’s the victim, though she doesn’t come across as such. She has to be the pillar of strength, because her character is intentionally left in the dark and she has to discover what really happened in those mysterious two minutes of her husband’s failed mission. There’s more to everything at stake for her character, but anything more would spoil it. One scene, in particular, between Spencer and Jill, was extremely moving and contrary to many criticisms, the dialogue is on-point. It’s powerful, relatable, and it never feels disingenuous. There’s a strong resemblance to real life to it, almost as though it was taken from an actual conversation.

 None of it seems unrealistic or far-fetched, despite it being science fiction. And that’s saying a lot, because there are plenty of stories in the genre that feel a little unrealistic, and require the suspension of disbelief. I’m not even entirely certain how the filmmakers made it seem so grounded in reality, while simultaneously keeping solid ground in the speculative nature of the story. In response, I can only shake my head in disbelief, wondering if the naysayers somehow forgot that it’s predominantly sci-fi, a genre that almost celebrates the improbable, the unnatural, and the fantastical. Plus, it’s fiction. Escapism at its finest. Making sense or being completely logical isn’t always a necessary ingredient. Why else do we consume fiction, if not for escapism?

 Actually, with the exception of the ending, there isn’t a lot that’s extravagant or impossible. But I love the dramatic culmination of events. It doesn’t really bother me that what took place can’t happen like it did. In context with everything that came before, the resolution felt natural, like it was meant to be. Earnestly, I can’t imagine it ending any other way.

 ”There is something I need to tell you, Jill...About what happened. All there was...was the cold. I knew what the cold was...it was death. Then the cold faded and then I felt warmth. It was the warmth of you.”

 Now, was the basic concept of the film unoriginal? To some extent, yes. Frankly, it’s something that the sci-fi/horror community has seen many times. At the same time, though, it’s not always about originality. Sometimes, execution takes precedence, and I love that about this film. The thing I appreciate most about The Astronaut’s Wife is that its emphasis is on the characters (Jill, specifically,) as opposed to the Other. There’s a beautiful examination of what it means to be human, to be flawed as well as moral. Whereas a lot of stories have a tendancy to simplify good and evil, the film seems to cast a spotlight of understanding on both sides of the coin, and that’s very refreshing.

 The outstanding performances weren’t limited to Johhny Depp and Charlize Theron, either. Girl, Interrupted’s Clea DuVall’s portrayal of Jillian’s empathetic sibling was nothing short of moving, and my appetite for her scenes insatiable. And almost juxtaposed with DuVall’s Nan was Joe Morton’s Sherman Reese (Speed,) a disgrunted NASA representative who might or might not be in his sound mind.

Needless to say, I love everything about this film. The cinematography is beautiful. The haunting notes of the score is the perfect accompaniment, complete with a sense of palpable dread and suspense. The special effects are neither over or underdone, and kudos to all involved for not making it look or feel like CGI. I could go on and on, but reading my high praises is probably starting to sound repitive and nauseating, so I’ll wrap this up.

 If you’re at all curious, I encourage you to give The Astronaut’s Wife and chance and form your own opinions. You might just find another film that you enjoy. If not, then at least you can honestly say that you saw it, didn’t like it, and give your reasons why. If nothing else, go into it strictly for the rock star performances. I hope that I never forget this underrated, extremely polarizing film.

Rating: 5/5 stars