Dennis Biba

Half the internet is praising Project Hail Mary as one of the best science fiction films of all time. But is the hype justified, or are we just witnessing the same tiring, often-rehashed world-saving story, this time as a buddy comedy? The film adaptation of Andy Weir’s science fiction novel of the same name is as entertaining as it is unimaginative. Ryan Gosling convincingly embodies the American ideal: a kind-hearted, somewhat clumsy teacher, conveniently holding a PhD in molecular biology, which qualifies him for his space mission. An everyman like Truman (the one from The Truman Show, not the president), likeable, down-to-earth, and always with a witty remark on his lips. Admittedly, the sometimes rather importunate slapstick humor carries the film well over its two-and-a-half-hour runtime. And when the camera isn’t on Earth or in the spaceship, it produces some stunning visuals. Greig Fraser, who previously handled the cinematography for Villeneuve’s first two Dune films, skillfully plays with the disorientation of space here as well, and the images, such as those of the surface of a Jupiter-like gas planet, are unlike anything seen in other space films. On the other hand, the rapid-fire jokes and ambitious visual style seem intended to distract from the fact that the film doesn’t offer much in terms of substance.

The story is quickly told: An alien species is spreading through space. Soon, these microorganisms, called astrophages, have formed a veil around all the surrounding suns, a veil that dims sunlight and will cause an abrupt ice age on Earth unless a brave hero takes action. This hero is physics teacher Ryland Grace, and he is promptly sent to the only solar system that seems immune to the astrophage plague to investigate. Upon arrival, he encounters another alien, who was sent there in a spaceship for the same reason. Together, the space buddies manage to defeat their common enemy, something no one had doubted for a second.

The human cinema audience is thus confronted with two types of aliens: On the one hand, the astrophages, cell cultures without culture, darkness made matter, and a relatively loose allegory for anthropogenic climate change, which, however, lacks the crucial point of anthropogenicity. On the other hand, the Eridians, intelligent, dog-sized, five-legged creatures, represented by Rocky, Ryland’s future space buddy. Rocky is the complete opposite of the shapeless astrophages. Although his crab-like and faceless form seems alien at first glance, the film misses no opportunity to anthropomorphise Rocky, proceeding in a similarly clumsy manner to its more childlike source material, Steven Spielberg’s E. T.. While Denis Villeneuve took his time in the first-contact film Arrival to explore the difficulties of communication between different species, communication in Project Hail Mary is a purely technical problem that requires little more than a few voice recordings, since Ryland’s and Rocky’s languages happen to differ almost exclusively on a phonetic level. The humanisation process is completed when Rocky is given a human voice through speech translation software. And at this point, the film takes the easy way out, not for linguistic reasons, but because it only grants its sympathy to the human-like aliens. By human standards, Rocky is cute – his clumsy gait, his childlike syntax, his imitations of human gestures are reminiscent of either a child or a pet – the only animals to whom humans are even willing to bestow their love. Similarly, Gosling’s loyal, puppy-dog eyes are meant to elicit the viewer’s sympathy, while the astrophages remain an abstract threat.

It is precisely this emotional affectation, generated through cuteness, humor, and a plethora of pop songs, strikingly imitating the aesthetics of Instagram reels, that distracts from the film’s political dimension. Just like Ridley Scott’s The Martian (2015), also based on a novel by Andy Weir, Project Hail Mary employs the narrative of the (of course, white, male, and tech-savvy) US American who must defend himself against all manner of dangers in the wilds of space. While The Martian used a significantly colonialist symbolism, Project Hail Mary is more progressive in some respects. Here, it is no longer primarily the astronaut’s technical know-how that frees him from his predicament, but rather his friendship with Rocky. However, Silicon Valley solutionism hasn’t disappeared; it’s merely masked by emotion. In the end, a technological solution still emerges, one that completely eliminates the problem.

The elephant in the room, however, remains almost obscured by the numerous slapstick scenes: how Ryland even got onto the spaceship in the first place. In a flashback shortly before the film’s end, we learn that he was given a choice: either die on the spaceship because there’s no fuel for the return flight, or die a few years later on Earth as a result of the climate catastrophe. Ryland chooses the latter, but is subsequently overpowered in a chase, drugged, and thrown into the spaceship, where he only awakens long after it has left Earth. Because he is unwilling to sacrifice himself for the greater good, the world government (a deliberately vague complex of leading politicians, military figures, and scientists) decides for him – a suicide mission in the truest sense of the word. While in The Martian the stranded individual in space at least seemed worth saving, here a sacrificial myth is revived, one that is reflected in the real-world debates about military service. The film, however, doesn’t bother to explore this conflict further. Instead, Ryland comes to terms with his role as a heroic (but soon to be quite dead) savior of humanity, and his friendship with Rocky makes him forget that he did not choose this fate himself.

Fortunately, sending individual men into space will achieve nothing in the fight against real climate change, even though the desire to do so is understandable given the behaviour of certain tech billionaires. Climate change is not a technical problem, but a result of extractive lifestyles and therefore requires collective, that is, political, solutions. Such complexity, however, is conspicuously absent from Project Hail Mary.

Phil Lord, Chris Miller (2026): Project Hail Mary [Movie]. USA.