‘Spaceman’ Review – Adam Sandler Exhibits Restraint In Johan Renck’s Somber, Slow Burn Sci-Fi Drama

By the time we meet Hanuš, an arachnid-adjacent alien sage that exists outside of time and also happens to be voiced by Paul Dano, you’ll already know whether or not Spaceman is for you. Directed by Chernobyl visionary Johan Renck, this somber sci-fi drama is maybe Netflix’s most confounding “Original” yet, a pretentious slow burn crafted with the kind of patience and introspection meant for coastal boutique theaters yet produced by a money-hemorrhaging media conglomerate who believe its stars will buoy it into mainstream palatability. 

Mileage will certainly vary on whether or not lingering stares and atmospheric synth music will be enough for your average Netflix subscriber, but those willing to open their hearts to star Adam Sandler’s weighted interiority will find an empathetic space story that, while somewhat shallow, is still thoroughly absorbing.

Sandler is Czech astronaut Jakub Procházka, who is six months into a space voyage to the other side of Jupiter. Sent there to collect samples of a mysterious pink cloud, Jakub is revered as a national celebrity. However, in reality, he is a quiet and seemingly apathetic man, swallowed by a melancholy exacerbated by his pregnant wife, Lenka (Carey Mulligan), who won’t return his video calls – unbeknownst to him, back on Earth, Lenka has already decided to leave him. 

This is the first 15 or so minutes of Renck’s drama, layered with the kind of quiet, near-futuristic world-building and strong production design that feels reminiscent of Ad Astra, minus the obnoxious narration. No, Spaceman does not concern itself with much in the way of formal exposition, leaving Jakub’s lonely life to be felt in prolonged, mundane scenes and Sandler’s own restraint. This is maybe the beloved comedian’s most unassuming performance; the little flair he brings to his inhabiting of Jakub is what makes the wealth of emotion feel effortless, especially in later scenes. Though it isn’t his most compelling on-screen turn, it may be his most impressive.

However, what begins as a conventional interpersonal drama soon welcomes an unnamed, large, spider-like creature (again, voiced by Paul Dano of all people) into its midst, initially drawn to the thrums of Jakub’s spacecraft. An alien from a world that progressed far beyond human trials and tribulations, the creature is able to tap into Jakub’s inner thoughts and memories, probing his traumas in hopes he can heal him. The two slowly become companions, with Jakub bestowing his friend with the name Hanuš, the Czech clockmaster. 

What begins as a shock to the film’s realism morphs into something quite beautiful, though certainly inexplicable to the very end. It’s a testament to the impeccable CGI, Paul Dano’s gorgeous voiceover, and the warmth in Colby Day’s script (an adaptation of Jaroslav Kalfař’s Spaceman of Bohemia) that Hanuš even functions at all. However, he goes beyond being a quirky element; it’s a character played without a shred of irony and, thus, is just immersive enough for the audience to buy his surprising likability. Hanuš’ all-knowing empathy goes so far as to become the backbone of the film’s emotional center.

Spaceman ventures into the final frontier with a familiar protagonist and a familiar interpersonal struggle, yet its commitment to its own pacing makes it powerful amidst a swath of imitators. Jakub’s pain is deeply internal but slowly ekes out through a series of fish-eyed flashbacks, played earnestly by Mulligan, Sandler, Petr Papánek as a young Jakub, and Marian Roden as his father. Though each one feels a bit too obfuscated – they’re short and sweet but leave a lot left to be explored, not to mention their aesthetic leaves little for the cinematographer to evoke through framing – they color the film’s pathos and eventually unravel into a naked exploration of guilt, forgiveness, and selflessness that feels universal.

Much of Spaceman’s ilk keeps a veneer between the said and unsaid, forcing the audience to do the emotional heavy lifting. Spaceman takes us along for its own ride, which unravels into a phantasmagorical relinquishing of the reins the likes of which 2001: A Space Odyssey would blush at, and by doing so earns investment from the audience and a satisfying ending. Though an imperfect journey, Spaceman is a resonant look at what it means to genuinely want to change and, as crazy as it sounds, a world that gives us the space to do so.

Spaceman is now available to stream globally, courtesy of Netflix.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNZ0xKaCdus]