“A boy seldom lives up to a father’s expectations.”

Justin’s rating: What a great tagline — “Space is a lonely town”

Justin’s review: I love me a good creative low-budget scifi flick, especially if it trundles down an interesting and lesser-traveled path. Then there’s The American Astronaut, which makes its own path with unrestrained enthusiasm, hooting and hollering for you to keep up the entire time.

This indie black-and-white flick seems to exist in a world of deep shadows and deeper love for retro-futurism. Its look harkens back to the B&W flicks of the ’50s, but its tone is far more Pulp Fiction than This Island Earth by way of westerns. Everything here is weird and stylized, so the viewer is caught flat-footed almost right from the start. Words don’t suffice to categorize this, because it pretty much exists only in its own world.

And just when you start to ease into the peculiar angle of this flick, it starts singing at you. Because, surprise, it’s also a musical. And surprise surprise, the songs are pretty dang catchy.

This follows Curtis, the titular American astronaut, who bounces around the solar system trading in rare and specialized goods. He comes into possession of a Real Live Girl (that’s how she’s called), who apparently lives inside a small box? And about this time, you notice there are no women in this world, which is a growing plot point.

Curtis’ main job is to obtain a special boy from Jupiter and bring him to Venus to be the entire planet’s new stud. Then, and only then, will he get the remains of the former stud and bring the body back to earth for burial. That’s going to be a bit tricky, as there’s a pirate and an assassin and a rogue barn with which to contend.

As the story unfolds, there’s a slightly sinister man in a bow tie who shows up to narrate the events and backstory of this world to us. I almost don’t want him to. Morgan Freeman, he is not. He’s not one to mess with, either.

While The American Astronaut is outer space scifi, it’s a deliberately lo-fi approach that never heard of CGI. There’s more wood paneling, cowboy hats, and vinyl records than robots and warp drives.

It almost feels like some sort of art film. In fact, it feels EXACTLY like an art film. Too often, the characters come across as mugging for the camera, breaking the fourth wall, and doing inexplicable things that could be symbolism or the late stages of a nervous breakdown. Your pick.

Again, you’ll never see anything quite like this film… but you may not want to, either. As much as I appreciate absurdism and eclectic screenwriting, this is a few bridges too far. At times, I suspect this simply exists to break all of the normal filmmaking rules to give us something that defies reason.

Intermission!

• “And oh yeah, it’s my birthday.”
• WHAT IS THIS OPENING THEME
• The cat’s name is Monkeypuss
• Bathroom dancing takes some careful choreography
• This comedian has one joke and he tells it badly
• I did not expect these guys to start dancing
• The laser gun works well for this setting
• That’s the worst alarm clock
• “It was round and soft. Now go back to work.”
• If you’re forgiven by this guy, he’ll try to kill you
• “He’s a birthday boy, he kills without reason.”