Ad Astra (2019)

A reflection on the James Gray Film (Spoiler warning)

Virgil, the great Roman poet, wrote the following words in Aeneid book 9: ‘Ad astra per aspera’ which means ‘To the stars through difficulties.’ Roy McBride’s quest to find his father in deep space was indeed one of great difficulty. Ad Astra, released in 2019, builds on the classic novel Heart of Darkness (1899) by Conrad, and films like Coppola’s Apocalypse Now (1979) and Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). All of these great works of art explore what it is to be human. More specifically, they examine what it is to not only face our deepest fears but to enter them, go through them and exit the other side renewed and reborn.

Every science fiction film that depicts a futuristic cityscape by night is forever indebted to Blade Runner for its neon rain-drenched aesthetic. In the case of Ad Astra however, its spiritual godfather is the 1968 Stanley Kubrick classic 2001: A Space Odyssey. Both films grapple with the innate human compulsion to explore outer space. They also examine the interior world of the human mind. The slow opening panning shot of the cosmos coupled with Max Richter’s soaring strings establishes the film’s Kubrickian family tree and over the course of the two hours running time, manages to craft a worthy and original new branch.

Pitt plays decorated astronaut Roy McBride. His face is briefly superimposed onto the opening cosmos shot much like the luminescent foetus floating in space in 2001. The notion of self discovery in the exploration of the darkest depths of space is presented here at the outset. Pitt’s monotone narration accompanies the viewer and serves to function as an inner voice, an interior monologue which draws us inside the thoughts of McBride. Screenwriters James Gray and Ethan Gross present the dualistic aspect of personality. The interior monologue and thoughts of McBride comingle with his external reality, one voice hidden from public and only known to himself. His behavioural responses bely the swirling impulses, needs and desires of his interior id.

In a telling scene we see McBride greeting his colleagues while en route to conduct some maintenance work. Gray adopts a POV shot from inside McBride’s helmet with a revealing line, ‘It’s a performance with my eye on the exit.’ The film delves into aspects of mental health as much as space exploration. McBride’s outward preternaturally calm demeanour is heavily constructed and manicured. To be human is to experience this dichotomy, this fragmentation of the self. In McBride’s case, it is his armour. This dampening of the self and stifling of emotion curbs his ability to connect. The disintegration of his relationship with Liv Tyler’s character is depicted through brief flashbacks. He is alone.

Space station maintenance.

Pitt is exceptional in the role. Much like a Ferrari, it is too easy to merely admire the beautiful metallic sheen and forget the complexity of the engineering that goes on underneath. His capacity for understatement and control are central to his performance here. Pitt manages to emote most of McBride’s thoughts in silence. It might be a subtle grimace or a slight furrow that Pitt employs to communicate to the audience. He is at his most deft and nuanced as an actor in Ad Astra. He is the perfect choice for a role which grapples with the notion of being judged by external factors. It would be easy to presume that Pitt has a deep understanding of this dynamic due to the nature of the world in which he operates.

The narrative thrust of the film is deeply embedded in Freudian psychology. McBride is sent on a mission to locate his astronaut father beyond Neptune where the mission he was leading disappeared several years previously. It was believed the whole crew had perished and disappeared without trace until a massive energy surge emanating from Neptune takes out most of Earth’s technological infrastructure. McBride is told his father is in fact still alive and that the potentially Earth-ending surges are being generated by him. Incidentally the surge nearly kills McBride while he is conducting maintenance at the start of the film - a distant message from his father in some ways. From here McBride travels first to the Moon, then to Mars and finally to Neptune where he confronts his father.

The Moon sequence is stunning. McBride is being transported on a rover to his departure point which will send him onwards to Mars. They must cross a no-mans land which is being territorially contested by different nations. Two other rovers suddenly appear attempting to hijack and kill McBride and his group. The rovers are clearly modelled on NASA’s LRV (Lunar Roving Vehicle) which were used on the Apollo 15, 16 and 17 missions. This may well be the first chase sequence on the Moon put to film. The level of detail realised through the synergy of sound design, set design and ever subtle CGI is astounding. Gray and the set directors have achieved a level of verisimilitude that is unmatched by other films of this ilk. The worlds depicted feel genuine. The sequence also presents the rather grim notion that, despite interplanetary travel, us humans are still preoccupied with territorial conflict and avarice. Verisimilitude indeed.

The Moon chase sequence.

McBride’s journey to Neptune becomes a near fever dream with Gray’s very deliberate use of colour coding to portray the hellish nature of Mars with hues of red and copper. The deep blues of the journey to Neptune and then Neptune itself projects a sort of purgatorial tone, a significant transition from one realm to another. The sheer white of the interiors of the space capsules and ships suggests a sort of clean precision. However, even with all this technological prowess, safety is not guaranteed. Space is a dangerous place where strange things can happen. This is best exemplified in the rescue mission aboard a medical facility which seems to have been adversely affected by one of the energy surges. Responding to a distress call, McBride and a fellow astronaut board the vessel only to find all the medical officers and staff dead, some badly mutilated. McBride soon finds his own colleague with his helmet visor smashed open and his face being eaten by a crazed and vicious baboon. Clearly the test primates had taken over the facility after the surge and killed all the human occupants. McBride escapes however while futilely attempting to save the life of the pilot. The image of a crazed primate in zero gravity hurdling toward McBride is highly affecting visually.

In both the Moon chase sequence and the scene above, visors are broken and smashed ultimately leading to the deaths of the person they were designed to protect. The fragility of human life in the vacuum of space is presented here as well as the shattering of the self. McBride’s metaphorical visor is his outward appearance of control coupled with his advanced piloting skills and physical capabilities. Once these aspects of his id are either shaken or shattered, he is left without his armour, without his protective shield. As he journeys further into deep space in search of his father he realises these are not necessary any more. He learns that he can breathe without these outer layers of protection - he lets the barriers down.

Most of us spend our lives in hiding -Roy McBride.

Apocalypse Now’s narrative imprint is suffused throughout Ad Astra. McBride is Martin Sheen traveling up the Cambodian river to confront and kill Colonel Kurz, the rogue military general. Both Kurz and McBride’s father have taken innocent lives and established themselves as demi-gods. Both men are highly decorated in their fields, and ultimately yearn for obliteration at the hands of another. Yet both are intent on creating their own dystopian realities before their judgement days occur. The Oedipal nature of both narratives are evident - the killing of the father, or in the case of Apocalypse Now, a father figure.

Only the paternal aspect of The Oedipus Complex is presented in both films however, with any reference to female relationships either completely missing in the case of Apocalypse Now or minimal in Ad Astra. Is this their first steps toward wholeness perhaps? The annihilation of the father clearing the way for the next phase of psychological development. The shadow being integrated. The final scene of Ad Astra does heavily suggest that the Roy McBride who returned from Neptune is a more complete person, a person willing to be vulnerable and share his life with another. Liv Tyler’s character reappears as a reunion takes place between the couple intimating that he is now ready finally to move forward, to ‘rely on those closest’ to him and to ‘share their burdens.’ These messages are cleverly presented through interspersed shots of McBride submitting his final verbal psych report and shots of him encountering his ex partner again.

Perhaps the most moving scene is McBride encountering his father for the first time aboard the Lima vessel near Neptune. Looking up at his father a few levels above, it is as if he is still seeking approval from him. The screenwriters Gray and Gross don’t serve up any sentimentality here. In fact Clifford McBride admits to his son, ‘I never cared about you or your mother. or any of your small ideas.’ In a heart-breaking shot, we see Pitt absorbing his father’s words and responding simply in a fragile voice, ‘Yeah I know dad,’ as a solitary tear rolls down his face. The roles are now reversed. Roy dresses his father in a spacesuit, prepares him for the journey ahead. There is a sense that McBride, despite his attempt, will never get his father back home. He is lost to him forever. It is the effort itself however that allows him to heal.

Ad Astra is about loss. It is also about connection. They go hand in hand. McBride realises he must not only confront his father, but also let him go. Clifford McBride travelled further than any other human being in the search for life in our solar system. He asks his son to join him and continue with the search and pleads with him to not let him fail. His son responds by telling him he hasn’t failed. He adds, ‘Now we know. We are all we’ve got.’ Clifford McBride need not have travelled to Neptune to search for life - it was right in front of him all the time.