Ad Astra review – cinematic voyages like this do not come along too often

Amid the myriad comic-book sci-fi films of the past few years, there has been another genre existing alongside, catering to a, shall we say, more grown-up audience. These films, which include Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival (2016), Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar (2014) and Alfonso Cuaron’s Gravity (2013), tend to treat space and time travel in solemn, almost reverent ways, with careful attention paid to how physics and philosophy might usefully complement one another. Thanks to advances in modern technology, a talented filmmaker can now focus on the enormity of space to mind-blowing effect.

In the case of Ad Astra, directed by the auteur James Gray, there is no doubt that this beautiful, deeply serious and profoundly thoughtful film will attract an appreciative, mainly arthouse, audience. Despite the starry presence of Brad Pitt in the lead role, and the likes of Tommy Lee Jones, Donald Sutherland and Liv Tyler in support, it is probably too esoteric and abstract for the mainstream, and, like many of Gray’s earlier films, seems destined to remain a cult curiosity. Yet it should be sought out on the biggest screen if you can, possibly with a glass of something strong to hand, and wallowed in. Cinematic voyages like this do not come along too often.

The storyline owes something to Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, as well, inevitably, to Coppola’s Apocalypse Now (1979), but Gray’s influences are rich and varied, including Malick’s Tree of Life (2011), Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) and even Andrew Niccol’s horrendously underrated Gattaca (1997). Major Roy McBride (Pitt) is a talented and heroic astronaut who nevertheless has a deep feeling of existential ennui, communicated to the audience by moody voiceover that often resembles a more comprehensible version of Malick’s characters’ musings. He is the son of famed space pioneer Clifford McBride, who is believed dead after a mission to Neptune vanished years before. The purpose of his mission was to discover whether there was other intelligent life in the universe, and it was believed to have failed, but mysterious energy surges appear to be emanating from the mission, which are threatening life on earth as we know it. McBride is therefore tasked with a dangerous and personally taxing journey, to see if his late father has left something behind, or if the world is simply doomed.

Gray, whose last film The Lost City of Z starred a miscast Charlie Hunnam but was otherwise terrific, is a very underrated filmmaker. His earlier collaborations with Joaquin Phoenix, including We Own The Night (2007) and Two Lovers (2008), indicated that he was a writer-director of unusual intelligence and compassion, and this, by far his grandest and largest-scale work, finally allows him to play at the level of his great influences. Although Ad Astra is nowhere near as cryptic or esoteric as The Tree of Life or 2001, it still moves slowly by conventional sci-fi standards, and relies on inference and suggestion rather than one-liners. It does feature some astonishing action set-pieces – a moon buggy chase, a zero-gravity fight that rivals Nolan’s Inception (2010) and virtually any of the scenes in space – but they are shown in almost abstract fashion. Even as the characters on screen are locked in life-and-death struggle, the audience is hard pressed to find more excitement than a solemn mood of contemplation.

This, of course, is Gray’s intention. He portrays his milieu extraordinarily effectively, setting his world around two or three decades in the future – where the Moon has been colonised and grinning tourists take selfies by plastic aliens, and where global brands like Virgin Atlantic and DHL have become, quite literally, universal – and neither glamorises it nor makes it seem scuzzy. He is helped by one of Pitt’s greatest performances. Between this and Once Upon A Time in Hollywood, this fine actor is having a splendid year, and here he delivers an iconic performance, often in extreme close-up, which makes one empathise with a character who, for most of the film, is a miserable and emotionally isolated loner.

Apart from Pitt, there is good work from Sutherland as an enigmatic high-up, Jones as his missing father and, in tiny cameos, Tyler as Pitt’s estranged wife and Ruth Negga as a helpful scientist. If one was to criticise the film, it would be for the want of human interest; with the exception of its lead, this is a picture that rhapsodises in the sense of the unknown, with vast vistas of inky black swimming into view, accompanied by Max Richter’s brilliant, mournful score. Yet, by the end, this criticism seems an unfair one. It would be unfair to hint at what happens, but, eventually, what initially seems to be a superbly accomplished but cold film reveals its emotional core, and, for many, it will resonate very movingly indeed. It is unlikely to be a box office smash, but Ad Astra is that rare thing in our not-so-Marvellous age – a serious, grown-up film with something to say, which does so with sombre integrity. And that, surely, is worth cheering it to the stars.