Jay Rohr
Fly Me to the Moon is a stark reminder that filmmaking is a kind of alchemy. Having all the ingredients for a quality picture doesn’t guarantee success. There’s a magical thread that lightning chases into the bottle, and when it’s missing what results are irritating flicks like Fly Me to the Moon. On paper, this film flies, but on screen this romcom doesn’t rocket to the heights it should.
Set against the backdrop of the space race, circa 1969, Fly Me to the Moon focuses on Scarlett Johansson as cynical savvy marketing specialist Kelly Jones. Shadowy government agent Moe (Woody Harrelson) employs her in the hopes of renewing public support for the space program. Repeated failures and a lack of success have soured the U.S. outlook on NASA’s endeavor, and she arrives to jazz up the image of the bumbling shlubs pioneering the final frontier. Unfortunately, Channing Tatum as rigid launch director Cole Davis bristles at her interference and carefree attitude until the two realize they need each other to make this historic event happen.
At least, that’s the idea behind Fly Me to the Moon. The actual execution is a series of irritatingly incomplete narrative threads alongside a lack of exploration which leaves many outcomes meaningless. It isn’t a tapestry so much as loose netting pulling everything together. Furthermore, in a film that takes no real risks, it’s odd that the movie fails to fill out the formula that would’ve led straight to success.
This is overall an opposites attract romcom along the lines of The Proposal (2009), Along Came Polly (2004), or Bringing up Baby (1934). Changing Tatum plays an inflexible individual whose uptight nature gradually melts in the company of Scarlett Johansson’s free-spirited marketeer. The problem in Fly Me to the Moon is that every way this happens occurs too fast. There are no stakes or real friction to create tension between the two. Whenever Johansson’s Jones does something manipulative or makes the Moon mission a crass ad, Tatum immediately acquiesces, accepting her way of handling things.
Without friction there’s no exploration of their personalities. Their clashes are also meaninglessly toothless. The audience is left watching attractive people already smitten with one another gradually get to the point. Worse, it means there’s never much insight into the space race’s significance. It’s as if the filmmakers felt the historical nature of their backdrop explained itself. Except for one brief instant about Cold War politics, no one really explains why the space race matters to anyone. Plus, it’s another wasted opportunity for character exploration across the board.
Despite a decent sized cast, Fly Me to the Moon never gets into the relationships with its peripheral players. Yet, a critical plot point hinges on Johansson’s friendships with those individuals—connections made at best during montages but more often offscreen—inspiring her character’s growth. Furthermore, when Tatum makes predictable changes in his personality what he does is so out of character one wonders who is to blame for the scene. It’s like the filmmakers knew what they needed characters to do, but not the best way to show their growth, evolution, or reasonings—they just jammed it in because that’s what’s supposed to happen anyway.
Anyone who’s seen films like Ghost World (2001) or Jojo Rabbit (2019) could be forgiven for expecting Scarlett Johansson to act. However, her performance throughout Fly Me to the Moon lacks the spark that romcoms like this need to be charming. She repeatedly seems to be simply reciting lines, and that’s not even getting into the occasions she employs a phony Southern accent that shouldn’t fool anyone. Channing Tatum is equally lifeless in a role that he should be stellar in.
The rest of the cast isn’t bad. However, their characters are one dimensional at best. The only ones with any depth are Woody Harrelson who is fantastic as the mysterious and increasingly unlikeable Moe. Next to him, Jim Rash (Community) as Lance Vespertine, an eccentric director hired for a conspiratorial contingency plan, is one of the only consistently funny performers throughout the film. Anna Garcia (Hacks), Noah Robbins (The Trial of the Chicago 7), Donald Elise Watkins (The Underground Railroad) all do well, but their characters are cogs moving plot points forward. Ray Romano is okay as Henry Smalls, although it’s a part fifteen other actors could fill; he adds nothing to the role.
Director Greg Berlanti takes a $100 million dollar budget and manages to make one of the most important events in human history as exciting as a high school history class. In addition, since Fly Me to the Moon never really relates why the space race matters any brilliant displays of NASA rockets launching are meaningless spectacle. Those familiar with history may project their own thoughts and feelings onto the film, but the fact the movie doesn’t express any opinion is odd.
Now, this isn’t the worst romcom ever made. The right amount of white wine and weed should provide a temporary chemically induced lobotomy, and in that sweet stupor I’m sure Fly Me to the Moon might possess all the charm it lacks on sober viewing. Some of the comedy is okay. The plot is painfully predictable, but at least it’s technically an original idea as opposed to a remake, sequel, or superhero movie.
Personally, I think my frustration stems from how entertaining this movie should have been. All the parts are in place, but something is missing. Tatum and Johansson have chemistry, yet their overall performances lack a certain spark to make the movie fun. The poor execution of a formulaic plot doesn’t help. Jim Rash would steal the movie if he were in it more. And monumental history of this nature is wasted as window dressing for romcom antics. There was a real opportunity here to make something special, but like I said, kill enough brain cells chemically and Fly Me to the Moon will lift off. It just won’t take you out of this world.
