Adapted from a novel by Andy Weir and directed by Phil Lord and Christopher Miller, “Project Hail Mary” is marketed as the next great science fiction film, built on the one-of-a-kind premise of extinction, interstellar travel and alien life.
Like others before it, “Project Hail Mary” follows a familiar blueprint that Lord and Miller attempt to make feel intimate. The film follows Ryland Grace (Ryan Gosling), who wakes up alone aboard a spacecraft with no recollection of how he arrived there. His crewmates are dead and his own mind has become part of the mystery he must solve. Through a non-linear screenplay split between deep space and flashbacks on Earth, the film reveals Grace is on a desperate mission to stop a solar threat that is eating away at the sun.
What Lord and Miller appear to want most is a science fiction film that feels inhabited. The absence of green and blue screens points to a wider artistic goal of immersing the audience within the extraterrestrial spectacle. Greig Fraser’s cinematography pushes that same goal even further.
One setup used two Alexa 65 cameras on a crane, with one modified to capture infrared wavelengths invisible to the human eye, turning invisible light into an otherworldly haze. Another involved shooting handheld through panes of glass with water running over them to create an unstable texture.
The decision to build the movie around IMAX and its towering 1.43 aspect ratio extends that philosophy onto a bigger scale for viewers to appreciate. The techniques used are not flashy gimmicks so much as evidence of a larger visual philosophy: Lord, Miller and Fraser want space to feel lived-in rather than merely rendered.
It is the chemistry between Rocky and Grace that the film leans on the most to hit on this point. Upon arriving at his destination, Grace identifies an unknown spacecraft he labels “Blip A,” soon discovering it belongs to an “Eridian” named Rocky, an alien who navigates the world through echolocation and is also trying to save his planet from the star-eating “Astrophage,” an alien that feeds off starlight.
Their first encounters bring the extraterrestrial version of the “two people from different walks of life” shtick that has been used time and time again: two beings from different worlds, divided by biology, language and perception, slowly reaching mutual understanding.
Grace, a brilliant scientist, and Rocky, a brilliant engineer, overcome that barrier through experimentation, logic and shared necessity. As their bond develops, the film steers their relationship towards familiarity.
“Project Hail Mary” creates an experience built on visual splendor but falls short in creating emotional catharsis. In building Grace and Rocky’s relationship, it is more calculated than immersive, leading to a relationship that is sentimental and safe instead of transformative. Rather than deepening Rocky and Grace’s unusual connection shaped by their vast differences, it settles into the easy rhythms of a buddy movie, where the quirky outsider and the protagonist inevitably become best friends, with Rocky gradually coaxing Grace out of his emotional shell.
The film is too eager to make its alien counterpart lovable to develop a truly unique experience. In that sense, “Project Hail Mary” strips away its own nuance in pursuit of mass appeal. Rocky feels less like an exciting alien life form than a marketable emotional center, softened into something consumable. This is evident through the rollout of the official “Project Hail Mary” merchandise: a $40, eight-inch Rocky collector plush.
Lord and Miller clearly want to make science feel human. But, in pushing so insistently toward emotional accessibility, “Project Hail Mary” often becomes less a daring exploration of the unknown than a polished heartstring-puller.
Liam Nelson can be reached at [email protected].