Ad Astra
Positive 👍
Oh, fuck yes, let's talk about Ad Astra—one of those movies that thinks while it's being fucking spectacular. Some people might tell you it's slow or dull, but they can go suck a meteorite, because this movie delivers on all fronts: visually, thematically, and emotionally. It's a goddamn space epic with a subtlety that half the action-hungry knuckleheads just can’t grasp.
First off, Brad Pitt? Let me just say, he fucking delivers. The dude nails the part of Roy McBride, an astronaut with all the daddy issues you can imagine. It’s not just about Pitt looking stoic or badass in a spacesuit—he conveys a shit-ton of internal conflict, which is the whole backbone of the film. This isn’t just a space adventure; it’s a deep dive into isolation, emotional trauma, and humanity’s obsession with the unknown.
Now, don’t go in expecting a Fast & Furious Zoom-Zoom space race or Marvel-esque explosions every five minutes. Ad Astra is methodical—yeah, I said it—methodical in the way it unravels its plot. The brilliance of the film lies in how it uses its space setting not for cheap thrills, but as a giant metaphor for McBride’s personal journey. Outer space becomes the symbol of isolation, the unknown, the shit we shove down deep inside. It’s empty, vast, and uncaring, just like Roy’s relationship with his father. And speaking of daddy issues—HOLY FUCK, CLIFFORD MCBRIDE.
Tommy Lee Jones, a fucking beast, plays Pitt's space-mad dad, Clifford McBride, who flew off to Neptune on some godforsaken mission to find extra-terrestrial life and pretty much ghosted his kid (and Earth). The whole film is Roy trying to find this miserable old prick, which is a brilliant way to explore a son’s need for approval and closure. McBride Sr. embodies that distant, unreachable patriarch that a lot of us grew up with, minus the Neptune part (obviously, unless you’re into extreme shit).
The cinematography? Fucking STELLAR. Pun absolutely intended. I dare you to find a more beautiful space movie (yeah, I’m side-eyeing you, Gravity). Every frame in Ad Astra could be hung up in a gallery. The space shots feel enormous and terrifying—like you’re really there, floating alone in a vacuum of nothingness. There's this mix of claustrophobia and agoraphobia that’s pure genius. You’ve got tight, uncomfortable scenes inside ships, contrasted with the vast, cold void of space. James Gray (director, give this madman a round of applause) makes space feel fucking lonely in a way that most films just don't. The universe becomes this chilling reminder that you’re small and insignificant—and so are your problems—but it still manages to make those problems feel huge.
Sound design? Forget the whoosh-boom bullshit that most space flicks throw at you. Gray opts for realism, so you’ve got silence—eerie, endless silence—interspersed with Roy’s heartbeats and breathing. It’s tense as hell. Every second you're reminded how fragile life is in space and how one little fuck-up can lead to disaster. But it's not just about survival—it’s existential. It makes you question your purpose, your relationships, and where you fit in the universe.
And the themes, man. Oh fuck. Themes of isolation, self-discovery, and the age-old debate of science vs. religion are woven into every scene. Roy McBride's entire arc is about letting go—letting go of his father, his expectations, his need for control. It’s existential, it’s human, and it’s fucking relatable for anyone who’s ever had a shitty dad or felt completely lost. Ad Astra is all about our obsession with what’s out there, while we can’t even handle our shit down here. It’s saying, "Hey, maybe instead of looking for aliens, how about fixing the relationships you've fucked up on Earth?"
What also sets Ad Astra apart is that it doesn’t go for the usual space clichés—no alien invasions, no big government conspiracies, no supervillains. Just a man dealing with his fractured family while floating in the goddamn void. It’s grounded, even when it's out in space. And I fucking love it for that.
In conclusion, Ad Astra is brilliant because it doesn’t spoon-feed you shit or rely on cheap thrills. It challenges you to think, to feel, to stare into the void of space and realize it’s really the void inside of yourself that’s the scariest. Pitt's quiet, raw performance, the stunning visuals, and the deep-ass themes make this film a masterpiece. It’s not for everyone, but that’s what makes it goddamn art.
Final verdict? Ad Astra is an existential space epic that rips your soul apart while looking beautiful as hell doing it. Anyone who doesn’t get that can fuck right off.
Negative 👎
Alright, let’s dive into the over-hyped, underwhelming snooze-fest that is Ad Astra. Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s pretty to look at, like a shiny goddamn sports car with a failing engine. The visuals? Sure, they’re stunning. But that’s about as deep as it goes – you’re basically watching an existential crisis set in space for two and a half hours while Brad Pitt whispers his way through the entire goddamn movie like he’s telling a bedtime story. But hey, people love the aesthetics, so they think that automatically means it’s a masterpiece. Spoiler: it’s not.
1. Thin-ass Plot with Daddy Issues
First of all, let’s talk about the plot, if you can even call it that. The movie is about Roy McBride (Pitt) going on a space mission to find his father (Tommy Lee Jones), who’s gone AWOL at the edge of the goddamn solar system. Oh, and his father’s research is threatening the existence of all life on Earth. You’d think this premise could be exciting, right? WRONG. What do we get instead? We get endless shots of Brad Pitt looking sad and introspective while mumbling his way through bland-ass voiceovers about his emotions. Seriously, it’s like daddy issues: the movie, but set in space with ZERO pay-off. The emotional resolution at the end feels as hollow as the vacuum of space itself.
And don’t get me started on the half-baked family drama. You’re waiting the entire film for some profound revelation about Roy’s relationship with his father, but by the time they meet, it’s just a shoulder shrug of a scene. They try to go for this "deep" emotional moment, but it’s so fucking rushed that I was left thinking, “That’s it? I sat here for this?”
2. Pacing as Slow as a Dead Snail
Holy hell, the pacing is a disaster. The movie drags worse than a bad funeral, with scenes stretched out so long that you forget what the hell the plot was even about. It’s a bunch of “thoughtful” silences, close-ups of Pitt’s face, and slow, methodical space walks. Which, in theory, should add to the atmosphere of the movie, right? Well, not when it’s done at a glacial pace that makes you want to scream, "Get on with it already!"
It’s like watching someone try to wade through a thick-ass pool of molasses, and you’re just waiting, WAITING for something exciting to happen. There’s barely any action to balance out the droning monologues and melodrama. When there is action, like the lunar rover chase scene, it feels so disjointed from the rest of the film, it’s like the director woke up for five minutes and thought, “Oh shit, this is supposed to be a sci-fi movie!”
3. Pretentious as All Hell
Now let’s get to one of my favourite things about Ad Astra—its absolute pretentiousness. The film tries to be philosophical, introspective, and "high-brow" sci-fi, but instead, it comes across as self-important and hollow. It wants to be 2001: A Space Odyssey, but it’s more like someone’s half-assed interpretation of what that film did right. It’s full of empty, pseudo-intellectual musings about human nature, isolation, and the search for meaning, but none of it has any emotional depth. Instead of making you reflect on the human condition, it makes you roll your eyes and check your watch.
And what’s with the endless voiceovers? I get that voiceovers can add insight to a character’s inner thoughts, but here, they’re mostly used to tell you things that you already figured out because, you know, we have eyes and can see Pitt’s brooding face. There’s so much "telling" and not enough "showing" that it feels like the movie doesn’t trust its audience to get the subtlety of its themes—except there’s no subtlety to be found, just a heavy-handed delivery of obvious existential bullshit.
4. Science? Yeah, Let's Throw That Out the Window
Look, I know it’s sci-fi, and we’re not always expecting absolute scientific accuracy, but COME ON. If you’re gonna pretend to be this serious, realistic space drama, at least try not to break the laws of physics every goddamn second. There’s a scene where Brad Pitt uses a metal panel as a shield while hurtling through an asteroid field like he’s Captain America. What the actual fuck? That’s not how any of this works!
Then there’s the scene where he just…jumps from Neptune to his ship. Yeah, that’s right, he somehow gets back to his spaceship by using pure willpower and some space debris. That scene almost made me launch myself into space just to avoid the sheer idiocy. The movie wants to be grounded and realistic but then tosses in these absurd moments that ruin any credibility it’s built up.
5. Wasted Cast
Brad Pitt is a great actor, we all know this. But in Ad Astra, he’s given so little to work with that you almost feel bad for the guy. It’s just him, moping around for two hours with the same stoic expression. He’s doing his best, but the script doesn’t give him a single goddamn layer of complexity beyond “man sad, man want approval from daddy.” And don’t even get me started on Tommy Lee Jones, who is criminally underused. The guy’s an acting powerhouse, and he spends the majority of the film as a distant, cold figure who we barely get to know.
The supporting cast is forgettable, too. Liv Tyler might as well have not been in the movie at all, with how little screen time she gets. They could have replaced her with a cardboard cutout, and no one would have noticed. Even Donald Sutherland pops in just to wave “hi” before disappearing into the void. All these talented actors, completely wasted on a dull, plodding script.
6. Conclusion
In the end, Ad Astra is a triumph of style over substance. Sure, it looks pretty, but so does a goddamn screensaver. It wants so badly to be a profound exploration of the human psyche, but it lacks the depth, pacing, and narrative focus to pull that off. If you like movies that think they’re smarter than they really are, then sure, maybe this one’s for you. But if you want a movie that’s actually worth your time, look elsewhere, because Ad Astra is nothing more than a pretentious, slow-ass bore-fest.
It’s the cinematic equivalent of that guy at a party who won’t shut the fuck up about how deep and philosophical he is while everyone else just wants to have a good time. Overrated as fuck.