Spaceman review – a moving voyage to the far beyond

Somewhere in deep space, there is a beautiful purple-pink mass of particles and dust. It is cosmic and mysterious and very, very far away, though visible from Earth. Humans, a naturally inquisitive and enterprising species, are keen to understand the secrets of what they dub ‘The Chopra Cloud’, but the eight-month solo mission only appeals to a certain type of cosmonaut – one who doesn’t mind being in isolation for almost a year of his life.

“They say you’re the loneliest man in the universe,” Anna, a high schooler, tells Jakub Procházka (Adam Sandler) during a mandatory publicity session. “Is that true?” Jakub considers the question, and the hesitant student thousands of miles away. He rattles off an answer that feels more like corporate spin than a real response, sure to include a product plug, and the benevolent but business-minded Commissioner Tuma (Isabella Rossellini) ends the session. Jakub is left alone again, sitting in his tin can, far above the world.

His mission has taken him away from his pregnant wife Lenka (Carey Mulligan, a little miscast) who decides she’s had enough and sends her husband a tearful ‘Dear Jakub’ video recording. This is swiftly intercepted by Tuma, who fears any emotional distress could jeopardise the mission, and she sets about trying to persuade Lenka to change her mind. Meanwhile, Jakub has a visitor: a giant, extra-terrestrial spider, with the cautious curiosity of a housecat and the voice of Paul Dano.

Despite his initial horror, a lonely, weary Jakub brokers a tentative peace with the creature, whom he names Hanuš, after the legend of the master Czech clockmaker. He teaches Hanuš about chocolate spread (Sandler fans may recall the scene in Little Nicky, where a talking dog introduces the kindhearted son of the devil to Popeye’s chicken) and in turn, the wise Hanuš presses Jakub to confront his past, and the motivations he has for accepting the Chopra mission.

Jakub is a sort of parallel to Barry Egan, the socially awkward, explosively angry protagonist of Paul Thomas Anderson’s Punch-Drunk Love, which arguably introduced the concept of Adam Sandler as a serious actor to the world. Similarly riddled with familial trauma and an ability to express his feelings, Jakub has opted out of society entirely rather than risk rejection. It’s a mode that Sandler might not get to slip into that often, but one that he handles with care. The low register of his voice, his tired eyes and his withering exchanges with Hanuš prompt the audience to see Sandler in a different light, free from the shackles of a self-conscious awards bait role, or something as rousing – but still deeply funny – as Uncut Gems.

There are moments of levity in Spaceman, but it’s a deeply melancholy film, more Ad Astra than Spaceballs. Johan Renck’s vision of space travel positions it as a commercial venture, and Jakub’s ship is falling apart, held together by piecemeal sponsorships from antibacterial wipe companies and communications corporations. There’s a creeping sense that he never intended to come home to begin with, so weighed down by his internalised loneliness and fear of true connection. But with Hanuš’s gentle, insistant probing, Jakub starts to confront himself and the spectres of the past. The act of letting go becomes key to his survival.

Sci-fiction has proven an outlet through which to explore the anxieties of human existence since Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein, but Spaceman achieves a sort of weightlessness in a genre often bloated by cheap effects and hollow sentiment. Instead, Renck’s film floats along with a unique grace, reckoning with the weight of paternal legacy and human folly with sincerity, achieving something quite profound in the process. Over the film’s credits, an original song by the incomparable musicial pioneers Sparks, and Spaceman composer Max Richter plays. A mournful plea to a lover on the version of leaving, it reflects the film’s central romance, but also the friendship between Jakub and Hanuš – that most human design to be understood.