Astronaut Lucy Cola returns to Earth after a transcendent experience during a mission to space and begins to lose touch with reality in a world that now seems too small.
Noah Hawley has one hell of a range. He’s the creator of arguably two the best series of the 2010s: FX’s “Fargo” and “Legion.” The former, against all expectations, managed to live up to the Coen brothers’ cinematic masterpiece and stand on its own, while the latter cleverly subverted the superhero formula, a mind-bending dissection of “X-Men” on five tabs of acid. Hawley also wrote several poignant novels, one of which — “Before the Fall” — he’s adapting and directing for the big screen. Based on the evidence of his debut cinematic outing, “Lucy in the Sky”, film may not be the medium for Hawley.
There’s so much going for it: a stellar cast, Hawley’s usual team of talented collaborators (composer Jeff Russo, cinematographer Polly Morgan), and a compelling hook. Sure, the concept of an astronaut coming back to Earth forever changed may stir icky memories of the Johnny Depp dud “The Astronaut’s Wife” but Hawley avoids cheap gimmicks and aims for the jugular, his film grounded in reality. In fact, it’s loosely based on a true story: the infamous case of Lisa Nowak, who was arrested in 2007 for… well, you kind of have to look it up. Let’s just say, there’s no mention of adult diapers in Hawley’s feature. It very solemnly attempts to tackle the following quandary: How would one deal with our earthly world having embraced the infinity of space, touched the proverbial Hand of God?
The grandeur of the opening scenes, depicting astronaut Lucy Cola (Natalie Portman), suspended in a vacuum, bring to mind Bullock’s similar expressions of awe in Alfonso Cuaron’s “Gravity.” Unfortunately, it all (literally) goes down from there: as Lucy’s feet get firmly planted on Earth, so do the film’s, its luminous wonder dissipating along with Lucy’s. Our prodigious hero doesn’t know what to do with herself, consequently cheating on her “boring” husband Drew (Dan Stevens) with hunky co-worker Mark (Jon Hamm) — for apparently orgasms are as close as she comes to experiencing that sensation of celestial oneness. Lucy does her best to focus on her goal: to get back up to space, competing against her protege Erin (Zazie Beetz), yet ironically, it’s the constant thoughts of space that lead to Lucy’s ultimate demise.
I won’t reveal what happens in the finale. Fine, I’ll say this: Lucy, with her daughter Blue Iris (Pearl Amanda Dickson) in tow, escapes from the toxic control of men, into the unforgiving arms of the world that’s not ready for her, ahem, transcendence. I see what Hawley was aiming for: a descent into madness of sorts, with a few relevant allusions to current #movements. The issue is, Lucy’s preceding struggle is so incredulously dull and run-of-the-mill, there’s nary a deep thought to be found in a film whose two hours are solely dedicated to profound rumination. Hawley attempts to hide the intellectual vacuum with showy stylistic devices that distract from rather than complement the narrative: odd framing choices/aspect-ratio switches from full screen to wide to, um, half-full; a sequence of Lucy being literally flash-forwarded to her mother’s (Ellen Burstyn) hospital room; twinkling lights that morph into the sky’s infinite stars; an expected cover of the titular famous song — and so on, and so forth.
Portman, the stalwart that she is, attempts to make sense of the plodding script. Her efforts to cling to some sort of a thread, find some depth in a thinly-sketched character, are evident. Despite Lucy’s predictable arc (and that haircut), Portman still manages to shine and hold you rapt with mere screen charisma. Jon Hamm has some memorable scenes as the world-weary astronaut who’s all-too-familiar with Lucy’s issues. He basically summarizes the entire film’s “existential musings” in one short sequence, over a beer. The rest of the cast sort of falls through the cracks.
And I can see why the cast wanted to work with Hawley. There are episodes of “Legion” and “Fargo” that far exceed most Hollywood output in quality. Yet it’s one thing to direct a TV series, or write a book, where you have room to develop characters – scratch that – entire worlds, and it’s another to make a film, in which the same breadth of emotion must be displayed succinctly and powerfully. “Lucy in the Sky” isn’t terrible, but it’s terribly disappointing, considering its creator’s talents.
In Theaters Friday, October 4th
