First Man reminds us how sci-fi movies have skewed the idea of ​​space travel

"Because I'm sitting in a tin can, well above the world. Planet Earth is blue and I can not do anything. "
David Bowie, "Space Oddity"

Damien Chazelle First man did not reach its box-office exit speed last weekend, but over time it will be recognized as a great movie. Part of his virtue comes from a psychological investigation of Neil Armstrong (it's about the man more than the mission), balanced by strangling sequences of interplanetary peril that express – better, can be, than any previous film – the claustrophobic danger of the first journeys into space.

That does not mean that visiting the stars easy in most movies, but our design has moved far away from the truth, largely thanks to science fiction.

Take the franchise with the longest dilithium footprint: Star Trek. The USS Enterprise of the original series (1966-1969) would sometimes have a quality similar to that of a submarine in some episodes (and would still be in the 1982 film of Nicholas Meyer. Star Trek II: Khan's anger) but by the time we got to The next generation, The beige interior of the ship, its conference rooms and its potted plants had made it look like an office building in space. With a proto-Alexa who could tell you where all your friends were (in the Holodeck – pretending to be Sherlock Holmes!) And a machine allowing the appearance of Earl Gray tea soaked before, we hardly felt the presence of rivets or shiny metal separating Councilor Troi and her chocolate cups from instant asphyxiation.

Yes, our heroes sometimes encounter the dangers of space vacuum (like Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres in Travelerof the episode of season 4 "Day of Honor" or Narada's attack on USS Kelvin at the opening of J.J. Abrams' Reboot in 2009). But it is only in rare moments that we remember that everyone is simply away from the ink void of immediate death!

Pictures of Warner Bros.

Even on a damaged shuttle, the size of a mini school bus, there is always a class M planet in the system on which to land. Science fiction literature has the trope of the Big Dumb Object. Huge spaceship like Enterprise or Discovery (2001: The Space Odyssey) or the Nostromo (Extraterrestrial) or Star Wars Star Star Destroyers or Battlestar GalacticaThe starship places our characters on the Big Safe Object. (As long as nobody shoots them or spits acid that melts the skin, that is to say.)

As Professor Lawrence Krauss writes in his 1995 book The physics of Star TrekWhenever Captain Picard says "engage with you", the G-forces along with the subliminal speed would turn him into "squat salsa" against his padded central chair. The Star Trek Writers sometimes glide in a reference to "inertial dampers" that prevent such a horrible fate, but in reality, special combinations are needed to prevent the blood from flowing from the pilot's legs in order to prevent the person from fainting during sudden accelerations.

We have a glimpse of this for First manInitial action sequence. While Armstrong is still a test pilot, he takes his X-15 rocket-powered aircraft as high as possible and then finds himself through the atmosphere like a rock. This extreme altitude is filmed with phantasmagorical lighting and disturbing silence. And we have not even reached space yet.

We all remember the great finish of Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope, which recreates an air fight in the trenches of a small moon. (Oh, wait, it's not a moon, it's a space station.) The X wings of the rebellion (and Battlestar GalacticaVipers) are agile, elegant and adaptable. Zooming on the returns on your R2 unit is perfect for a generation of movie-buffs. The real deal was and unfortunately remains little different. With First man, Chazelle makes sure that you have a tactile idea of ​​how our first space program put men like Armstrong in orbit attached to a tuna.

DreamWorks Pictures / Universal Pictures

The stowage of Gemini 8 (the big sequence en route) First man) has a problem of "drag" or suborbital drag, or maybe a drift. If I had understood what was happening, I would have done better in AP physics. But in IMAX, and with a good audio system, the important thing is that everything starts to turn like crazy. Instead of getting traditional and clarifying images, we are facing Armstrong, the camera is shaking everywhere. Ryan Gosling is practically an abstract expressionist painting as he coldly detects the problem and proposes solutions.

The style does two things: it reminds you that Armstrong is a tough guy (most of us are throwing our Tang), and gives you a glimpse of the existential dread. At least when thrown out at sea, there is the potential you could may be survive a bit with a lifejacket. The Gemini scenes demonstrate how foolish it is to go into space and hope to survive the simplest problems.

It's an exciting movie and that's why a recent Variety essay has depressed me. Review Owen Gleiberman (who liked First man) says that the general public can not identify with a film on the lunar landing because its stake is too low in a post-Star Wars market.

"In 1969 [the moon] It was a kind of fear, but now it had the aura of a dusty former prequel to the kinetic space opera that we all had in our heads, "writes Gleiberman. It is ultimately unfair to Chazelle and the public, who I think will commit to respect this film.

In terms of thrills, few this year can match First manThe last reel. Ryan Gosling's face is tight as the Eagle makes his final approach. There are beeps and howls (what is an "error 1202"?) And a roar. Buzz Aldrin sees the huge craters of the moon, but calmly feeds Armstrong with the information he needs. We hear the thrilling score of Justin Hurwitz's rapidly rotating scales, first a melodic line, then another crossover, drawing it almost far from its natural conclusion. Then, the screen fills the entire IMAX frame and Armstrong redeems his emotional bow with a beautiful symbolic gesture.

Gleiberman is right in saying that it takes extra effort to convince the modern audience that going to the moon was a daring adventure. And maybe First manThe marketing department zigged where it should have zagged. But from an artistic point of view, and to have made us understand the opinion we have on space travel, it is a mission accomplished.

Jordan Hoffman is a writer and member of the New York Film Critics Circle. His work can be read in The Guardian, New York Daily News, Vanity Fair, Thrillist and elsewhere.