Space Oddity: A Grounded Love Story, Not a Cosmic Adventure

The opening shot of Space Oddity (2023) is a close-up of Kyle Allen’s Alex McAllister, eyes wide with wonder as he gazes at a star map, his fingers tracing constellations like they’re old friends. It’s an image that promises a film about dreamers and the cosmos, but Kyra Sedgwick’s romantic space drama quickly grounds itself in the mundanities of love and family.

Allen plays Alex, a NASA engineer whose life is upended when he’s selected for a Mars colonization program. The premise is ripe with potential—imagine The Martian meets Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind—but Sedgwick’s direction leans heavily into the romance subplot, particularly Alex’s budding relationship with Daisy (Alexandra Shipp), his no-nonsense childhood friend turned bar owner. Their chemistry is undeniable, especially in scenes where Shipp’s earthy pragmatism clashes with Allen’s starry-eyed idealism. One standout moment finds them dancing in her bar after hours, the dim lighting and slow-motion choreography making their connection feel tangible.

The film falters, however, when it tries to juggle its multiple genres. The sci-fi elements—Alex’s training, the Mars mission itself—are treated with a breezy, almost comedic tone that clashes with the heavier romantic and dramatic beats. Kevin Bacon as Alex’s skeptical father and Carrie Preston as his supportive mother add depth to the family dynamic, but their arcs feel truncated, as if Sedgwick couldn’t decide whether to focus on the interpersonal drama or the space adventure.

Simon Helberg steals scenes as Dimitry, a Russian cosmonaut with a dry wit, but his character is underutilized. Madeline Brewer and Arden Myrin, as Alex’s colleagues Liz and Lisa, provide much-needed levity, though their roles feel more like comic relief than fully realized characters. The film’s pacing also stumbles in its third act, where the Mars mission culminates in a series of hurried, emotionally underwhelming scenes that lack the weight they deserve.

Visually, Space Oddity is polished but unremarkable. Sedgwick opts for a muted color palette that suits the grounded tone but does little to distinguish it from other romantic dramas. The sound design is equally serviceable—Bowie’s iconic song plays during a key montage, but its use feels more like a nod to the title than an integral part of the narrative.

Ultimately, Space Oddity is a film that can’t decide what it wants to be. It’s not quite sci-fi enough to satisfy space enthusiasts, nor is it dramatic enough to resonate as a deep character study.