Project Hail Mary is a great alien buddy-comedy stuck orbiting a novel
It's no miracle that the film lands its central relationship, but it is impressive that it feels personal despite its grand sci-fi scope.
Photo: Amazon MGM Studios
Technically minded science fiction stories like those written by The Martian novelist Andy Weir can be loosely divided into tales about someone saving their own life, and tales about ensuring that life will go on in the future. Because of Project Hail Mary‘s high-concept plot, its sweeping journey across the stars, and its existential threat to humanity, it initially presents itself as the latter. Dr. Ryland Grace (Ryan Gosling) wakes up light years from home, alone on a ship with a pair of dead astronauts for company and a hazy memory of what he’s doing there. He eventually puzzles out that he’s there to investigate a distant star that, when faced with the same microscopic alien threat as our own sun, isn’t fading out like good ol’ Sol. But, thanks to filmmakers Phil Lord and Christopher Miller (and Martian adapter Drew Goddard), Project Hail Mary isn’t all that concerned with the science in its fiction; like the inverse of its slacker-cool scientist lead, the film is actually a schlubby buddy comedy dressed up in the finest hard sci-fi regalia that Amazon MGM could afford. It’s a far less nuts-and-bolts affair than The Martian, and a more frustratingly structured one thanks to the amnesia, but it doubles down on the astronaut charm offensive, flooding its sweet space odyssey not with big questions, but small signs of growth.
Like the heroes in so many schlubby buddy comedies, Grace follows an arc of stunted self-discovery and self-assurance, of growing up and finally looking outside himself. It’s the kind of thing men write when they’re having kids (Weir’s son was born the same year that Project Hail Mary hit shelves), and wondering if their life’s meaning exists beyond the jokes they crack, the jobs they hold, and the problems they solve. It’s no coincidence that the main draw of the film adaptation, aside from Gosling’s charm and the staggering space effects, is its most childlike creation: the craggy, multi-legged, faceless rock-spider alien Grace dubs “Rocky.”