This review of First Man is spoiler FREE.
I’ve always been intrigued by human beings’ ego. You might even call it our godlike complex. I mean the sheer audacity to look at something seemingly in the far reaches of the sky and say “one day, I’m gonna touch it!” It is intriguing, no? To even think that we can achieve something that audacious and then actually go and achieve it. I guess that’s what separates us from the rest of the earthbound creatures.
In 1962, American President John F. Kennedy’s Moon speech addressed this very mentality.
“But why, some say, the moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask why climb the highest mountain? Why, 35 years ago, fly the Atlantic? Why does Rice play Texas?”
Of course, Mr Kennedy also had to say, “Within these last 19 months at least 45 satellites have circled the earth. Some 40 of them were “made in the United States of America” and they were far more sophisticated and supplied far more knowledge to the people of the world than those of the Soviet Union.” In other words, screw you Russia and your small penises.
But it isn’t just ego. It’s also sheer f*cking determination. A quality that Neil Armstrong, the first man on the moon and the central character of this Damien Chazelle film, had flowing through his very veins. But why, some say, Damien Chazelle? Why the man who helmed Whiplash and La La Land? Doesn’t it seem like an odd choice for a man who made movies about music to suddenly make a movie about the final frontier? Many have even (jokingly) asked me if Neil Armstrong breaks into song and dance in this film.
Though, if you think about it, it’s not an odd choice at all. Whiplash and La La Land aren’t movies about music. They celebrate music, yes, but they’re not about it. Rather, they’re films about passionate people who are so in tune with their craft, so hell-bent on succeeding that everything else in the world recedes into the background. Which is why Chazelle is actually the perfect person to breathe life into Josh Singer’s screenplay. (You may Josh Singer as the guy who won the Best Original Screenplay Oscar for Spotlight.)
But there is a stark difference between First Man and Chazelle’s first two films which has nothing to do with the subject matter. Rather, First Man lacks the ferocity and the dizzying fiery intensity of his previous films. It is also his slowest movie to date. And that’s because unlike Andrew from Whiplash or Seb and Mia from La La Land whose bloods broil and hearts thump loudly like a bass drum at a Lamb of God concert, Neil Armstrong is a stoic presence, whose heartbeat can only be heard if you put your ears to his chest. Chazelle’s previous characters were overt personalities — who can forget the scene where Andrew punches his drums in a fit of rage cloaking the torn drum skin with sweat and blood.
Neil is an internal and logically charged person. He thinks more than he feels and even when he does feel he keeps it buried, for the most part at least, deep inside the far reaches of his gut. Occasionally he does emote, but even then it’s behind closed doors. Doors that even we as an audience are not allowed to enter. But how do you feel for an introspective character? Insert Ryan Gosling, whose eyes, just like in Blade Runner 2049 are windows to his soul. You look into his eyes, eyes that for the most part refuse to shed a tear, and you see the anguish that is buried deep within. He is in many ways an anti-Matthew McConaughey, who breaks you every time he breaks into tears.
And First Man is in many ways an anti-Interstellar. This is a cold film, shot almost like a documentary, both in terms of aesthetic — the texture and colours are soft and it’s purposely made to look grainy — and also the way we’re made to feel — almost like an outsider looking in (I refer back to the part where Neil shuts the door even on us). But it also finds a way to be beautiful in a way documentaries are not. Think of it as a documentary-esque film lensed by the cinematographer of La La Land, Linus Sandgren.
It is also realistic to a surprising degree. Think of the stories you’ve heard. Picture the famous lines, one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. Imagine the music that would accompany that line, followed by Neil Armstrong planting the flag on the grey rocky surface — a triumph! This film is the un-dramatised version of whatever you just imagined.
This film is based on James R. Hansen’s book titled First Man: The Life of Neil Armstrong. I imagine how the film would’ve turned out had it been adapted by Aaron Sorkin, with music by Hans Zimmer. I think I would’ve loved that version more. But that’s simply a matter of personal preference. Here, Chazelle offers a different sort of cinematic experience. Consider the scene where the rocket-pod-thingy (look, I’m not nearly as smart as the characters in the movie alright) starts spinning uncontrollably. Neil remains calm in a manner that suggests he knows what he signed up for, the musical score (wonderfully composed by Chazelle’s regular composer Justin Hurwitz) remains just as calm. But we as an audience feel the stress (shaky cam is used brilliantly here), our blood pressure rises because we’re not prepared for what may happen — Neil Armstrong is.
We’re like Neil’s family members that are comprised of Claire Foy (who’s excellent as Janet Armstrong) and a couple of kid actors. I love that the film focuses less on the science-y stuff and more on how the race to the moon affects the family and loved ones of those that are about to embark on this journey. The scene where Janet yells at Neil who’s reluctant to tell his children goodbye before he rockets off to the moon is heartbreaking. The following sequence at the dinner table where Neil actually tells his children in the most unemotive manner is even more so.
First Man is the worst Damien Chazelle film to date. But that hyperbolic statement says nothing as his first two films are both cinematic chefs-d’oeuvre. They’re also some of my favourite films of all time. With this film, Chazelle joins Ryan Coogler (Fruitvale Station, Creed, Black Panther), another director of this generation with three knockouts in a row.
Side note: I don’t consider Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench as Chazelle’s first film, the same way nobody really considers Following Christopher Nolan’s first.
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