Review: "First Man" is an Intense Ride to the Moon

Ryan Gosling in First Man

There is a power that director Damien Chazelle brings to the opening scene of his Neil Armstrong biopic First Man. Before the audience has had a chance to become acquainted with the world, he is already thrusting them out of it. Armstrong, played by Ryan Gosling, is pushing the limits of plane travel, throwing himself almost out of Earth's orbit. It is a claustrophobic moment, and one that features a strong intensity as Armstrong is left to wonder how he will survive. Will he even make it back to Earth? While the audience should know the answer, it's all perfectly unclear in the moment, capturing an early stage of space travel that is primitive and dangerous. There are no barriers. In just this opening scene, Chazelle has redefined the NASA film as a story about safety risks, all while pushing in on Armstrong's face - forcing the perspective to be the same as his, floating inside a man-made machine. It's the technique that makes First Man at times a powerful example of Chazelle's transition to big studio director. However, it also symbolizes the distance that Chazelle has at times from his supporting cast, who never get as much effort placed into them as Armstrong. It's not a terrible thing, but it keeps the film from feeling spectacular.

At the heart of First Man is the complicated life of Armstrong, which seems to linger on the edges of death at every turn. The film's introduction to his family includes a funeral for his daughter, whom he shared his desire to travel to the moon. It's why, off in the distance and beyond the trees blocking the visual, it's always there - waiting for Armstrong to touch down. History knows that it has happened, but there's other hurdles that make his character all the more fascinating. With a death in the family, he must also deal with the reality that astronauts have died in practices before. He's in a dangerous field, and he's come to the brink of death twice before the film shifts to Apollo 11. It's because of how close to failure he is that the film is capable of being so gripping while possessing one of the most stoic characters, trying to keep cool in spite of a choir of condescension from the public, who have shifted their perspective on NASA and now believe that to even fund this fool's errand is taking money from starving people. Armstrong isn't a pariah, but there's a concern that he may be an easy target.

What's especially incredible about Chazelle's direction is that he knows what makes space exploration exciting and terrifying. Much like the opening scene, he forces the viewer to be jammed into the capsule alongside Armstrong as he breaks through the atmosphere, staring down at the majestic Earth. It isn't like other films, where exterior shots give a grander awe. It's mostly visible through windows, fogged over by condensation. It creates a sense of how limited and hopeless the average astronaut can be without a working ship, or even the wits to get out of danger. The camera shakes uncontrollably as chaos kicks in just outside the atmosphere, the noise becomes overbearing, and there's a wonder how Armstrong could keep his cool. With death so apparent, there is maybe a fear to his focus. Audiences know that he'll come out alive, but how is another question. In a sense, he's a man who's fascinating to watch because of how he cheats death, proving the ingenuity of NASA may be flawed but capable of something greater.

It's the center of what makes the film so fascinating before shifting to the final 30 minutes where Apollo 11 is put into motion. There is never a point where certainty is clear. Everyone is fine tuning their work in hopes that this costly endeavor will pay off. Even at home, Armstrong seems somber about the mission, and he's forced to be reserved as he thinks back on the chaos that has lead him to this moment. It is a subdued performance, and one that at points seems alien from the citizen characters. His wife (Claire Foy) takes the brunt of the media's attention, trying her best to not panic at the thought of her husband winding up dead. She is reserved but more capable of showing emotions when the children aren't around. It's a frustrating ordeal, and maybe one that decries the awe-inspiring potential that this journey will have. What if Neil Armstrong dies? What will it all have been worth? It's both a noble sacrifice and a foolish risk. 

As a biopic on Armstrong, it's shattering and effective - best exemplified when he's forced into those life or death situations. Gosling has been known for his quiet performances, and it reflects perfectly here. He needs to be calm and focused. It's what makes him the key candidate for this mission. However, the supporting cast is maybe a bit underdeveloped by comparison, never allowing the universe of First Man to feel as engaging. Key characters like Buzz Aldrin don't appear until late into the story and play almost as afterthoughts to the bigger picture. The scope of the story is in one man's head, which limits the overall impact that the film could make at conveying the struggles from every perspective. It's cold, and Chazelle maybe wants it that way on purpose. However, it only ever works to its full potential when the camera is shaking wildly and the idea of a ship exploding (which is often) becomes the only thing that anyone can focus on.

Chazelle has proven himself capable of a lot with his previous Best Picture nominees Whiplash and La La Land. He has an ability to reflect intensity and romance in characters that are both singular and universal. There's power to the way they're edited together, visiting worlds with a lyrical beauty. It may be why the film's strongest components is the sound design, which eviscerates the ears and shakes the body at every turn. It may also be why the film's best attribute isn't a performance or technical craft, but composer Justin Hurwitz's phenomenal score, which seems to float with a tenderness and optimism amid the chaos. It is the sound of floating through space with an elegance in the strings that pluck beautifully in a meditative fashion. This helps to add a majestic quality to scenes, allowing the moments to feel grander, bigger, and more powerful. In just three films, it does seem likely that Chazelle and Hurwitz have formed a partnership that is primed to be as iconic as Steven Spielberg (who produced the film) and John Williams, having produced some of the most authentic, memorable music of the decade in ways that elevate the experience of cinema.

The film falls a bit short of the heights set by The Right Stuff and Apollo 13. It doesn't have enough of a grounded human perspective to ever be interesting enough outside of Armstrong's fascinating struggles. The world of the late-60's is shown on screen, but it always feels peripheral and inessential to the story. There's nothing to really connect the film to the world it wants to represent, even though it tries with characters closer to Armstrong's orbit. Still, this is more about a mission and intensity for the viewer than a rich character study of America's relationship to NASA. Maybe having something like that would've given the film a bit more impact by the time that the welcome home team shows up with American flags waving freely. As much as Armstrong is a hero whose bravery has proven man's capability, it doesn't really feel like it meant much to anyone but him.

First Man is definitely worth the spectacle that Chazelle has captured on film, creating the very idea of flying into space a riveting and terrifying experience. He brings with him every craft technique that he has learned over his short career, and it makes the film almost lyrical at points. However, his rise from intimate stories between a small group of characters to bigger scope feels a bit cold and maybe lacking. There could be more here to make that eventual, inevitable moon walk feel important to people on the other side of the camera. While there's something to be drawn from his wife's reaction, it's mostly vague. It's a journey that works in spite of its flaws, creating a new understanding of how to shoot outer space. Beyond that however, Chazelle maybe needs to work on making his scope bigger than one character, if just for stories about how a team got one man to the moon. It's there, but doesn't feel like much more than plot points, unfortunately.