Greg Berlanti aims high with ‘Fly Me to the Moon’, and the part romance, part period, part thriller, all high concept space-race picture for Apple Original Films lands him among the stars.
Though pitched as a rom-com, arguably it’s more of an irreverent period comedy that asks questions more relevant than ever about media, authenticity, and truth… with a side of star-studded romance. Despite some rough edges, the great cast and characters, historical easter eggs, and beautiful visual design really bring this romp to the moon to life. If you went to space camp as a kid, this one’s for you.
T-Minus 10, 9, 8…
It’s 1969. Nixon is president, cars come in more than three colors, and Kelly Jones (Scarlett Johansson) is a high profile marketing expert in New York City at the top of her game selling ad campaigns to companies at the top of theirs. Until, she’s recruited (pronounced “blackmailed”) to fix NASA’s public image ahead of the Apollo 10 and 11 missions by the vaguely threatening, top-secret-clearance-holding Moe Berkus (Woody Harrelson).
Meanwhile in Cape Canaveral (called Cape Kennedy at the time), Cole Davis (Channing Tatum) is struggling to lead a NASA that has lost its spark, not to mention its funding, closing the door inch by inch on Kennedy’s promise to put an American on the moon before the decade is out.
Though sparks fly at their first meeting, tensions rise as they start working together. Kelly will say or do anything to make the sale, but Cole is honest nearly to a fault. Despite the discord between them, they manage to turn NASA’s image around, keep the lights on, go on a couple dates, and shape an America that roots for Armstrong, Collins, and Aldrin.
But the space race isn’t just about being the first to the moon. It’s about whose ideology wins, that of a communist Russia or a democratic America. And in Moe’s eyes, it’s too big a risk to rely on the real thing. When Kelly is made to orchestrate a back-up version of the moon landing behind Cole’s back at the peril of her past being exposed, the real (fake?) story is just beginning.
A Trip to the Moon
Audiences have seen the space-race dramatized and reimagined dozens of times, as evidenced by one of the July 8th Jeopardy! categories presented by Johansson describing other films about the Apollo missions, but a rom-com take on the moon landing is unique if nothing else.
At times, the film does flip between styles rather than blending them into one cohesive Franken-genre, giving away that the project was originally intended for streaming and that Berlanti comes from a television background, but the story by Keenan Flynn, Rose Gilroy, and Bill Kirstein hangs together and gives the cast plenty of room to show off the breadth of their skills.
Johansson’s arsenal of emotions and southern accents are on full display as her character talks herself into and out of sticky situations, while Tatum brings personality and even some laugh-out-loud moments to a straight-laced veteran type. Harrelson is also extremely convincing as a shady government agent, pushing the story along from the shadows and appearing out of thin air every once in a while to hold Kelly’s past mistakes over her head.
Rounding out the cast are Ray Romano, Anna Garcia, and Jim Rash as the particularly memorable and flamboyant Lance Vespertine, the “Kubrick of Commercials”, a genuinely funny character that hits the stereotypical diva director archetype just right, and nods to the popular conspiracy theory that Stanley Kubrick directed a fake moon landing in real life.
The most memorable feature of Fly Me to the Moon is absolutely the visual design. Newsreel, photos, and video from the era are blended seamlessly with the graphic style Kelly uses in-universe for her ad campaigns, enhancing one’s immersion in the sights and sounds of the late sixties.
Rockets being built at mach-time lapse in the background as Tatum and Romano march across screen, rainbows of classic cars, stylish candy-colored mid-century wardrobes, and the incredible intro sequence accent a piece of history most think about in black-and-white television snippets, drab gray rocket hangars, and pale blue dots on eternal fields of empty space.
The score by Daniel Pemberton and thoughtful music selections tie everything together and cement the tone of the film, even though Frank Sinatra’s iconic tune doesn’t appear until the very end (and it’s sung by Harrelson, not Ol’ Blue Eyes).
