“Just like you, I fled my planet. Through galaxies, through black holes, through time. And then I found you.”

How do you define loneliness? Is it the complete absence of any sense of companionship, or the crippling feeling of being weighed down by the limitations that push those around you away, leaving you in a state of psychological isolation, even if you are in a place surrounded by people? This is one of the fundamental questions that Jaroslav Kalfař asks in his novel The Spaceman of Bohemia, which has now been adapted into an incredibly beautiful, poignant film by Johan Renck in his first cinematic directorial outing in over 15 years. Spaceman is a challenging and complex film and joins a growing canon of science fiction films that prioritize intelligent, thoughtful storytelling over being an entertaining spectacle. The film tells the story of Jakub Procházka, the first Czech cosmonaut who has been sent into outer space on a solo mission to investigate a mysterious haze known as the Chopra Cloud, which threatens all life on Earth. On this mission, which is only supposed to take about a year, our protagonist begins to question reality, especially with the arrival of Hanuš, an unexpected visitor aboard his spacecraft that turns out to be a friendly, meditative extraterrestrial being that takes the form of an enormous spider. Over a few days, these unlikely companions find common ground, especially in how Hanuš begins to reveal some of Jakub’s innermost insecurities, which causes him to reflect on his own life, especially his relationship with the wife he left at home. A fascinating and complex film that has echos of Andrei Tarkovsky and Stanley Kubrick, perhaps more than many recent cerebral science fiction odysseys, Spaceman is a compelling and brilliant work that is not only a perfect showcase for one of the best performances of the year, but an immediate signal to Renck’s incredible aptitude as a filmmaker, which he had already proven with Chornobyl, but which has not been even more consolidated with this exceptional film.

Spaceman is not a film that wastes a single moment in establishing its fundamental themes – within the first ten minutes, we already see the protagonist labelled as “the loneliest man in the universe”, a more lighthearted comment from a supporter, but one that proves to be eerily true. Millions of kilometres from his home on Earth, and seemingly alone with only his dutiful earth-based liaison with whom he regularly communicates, he spends his days in isolation, conducting a study that will benefit humanity as a whole, but which erodes his sanity and causes him to question his existence. The idea of being alone in outer space for any length of time is daunting and terrifying for most of us, and Spaceman uses this initial visceral reaction we all likely have to the idea as the basis for some of its most incredible, poignant commentary. Making a vaguely futuristic film about space travel and scientific discovery come across as extremely resonant and relatable is not an easy task, and working closely with Kalfař’s text, which remains mostly unchanged for the first two acts, we find Renck and screenwriter Colby Day doing admirably well in telling this story. The only major plot point from the original novel that was elided was the political commentary, particularly how the book was written to partially be a discussion on the spectre of the Soviet Union as a destructive force – but the rest of the narrative is mostly kept intact, at least in terms of many of the other themes that drive the story being found at the heart of the film. Isolation is a tricky theme to capture on screen, but Renck finds a way to explore it in vivid, complex detail without coming across as being too overtly sentimental. If anything, the emotional inventory is one of the greatest strengths of Spaceman, since it is heartfelt without being heavy-handed, which is something that most emotionally charged science fiction has struggled to overcome in recent years. Revisiting the past is a daunting process, and not something that is ever easy for any of us – but yet, Spaceman presents such a poignant, complex portrait of this experience, it is rendered as being unbelievably beautiful in ways that are sometimes genuinely quite unexpected.

When it comes to selecting an actor to lead a sombre, cerebral science fiction drama about the passage of time and reflecting on the past, Adam Sandler does not immediately spring to mind. Following the development of this film was fascinating since it wasn’t clear what tonal approach Renck was going to take – Sandler has done drama in the past, but most of it has been tinged with humour, and even his most serious roles tend to have some degree of heartfelt comedy somewhere in them, or at least an essence of subversion. Spaceman is his first completely dramatic role since he played a man dealing with the loss of his family in Reign Over Me, which is a thematically similar kind of character. This is some of the best work Sandler has ever done, and he proves that he can easily set aside the over-the-top, brash persona and instead embrace a quieter, more subdued character that is cobbled together from truly meaningful elements, rather than being just another chance for him to play an eccentric individual. He is unrecognizable in the sense that we have never seen him play this kind of complex, nuanced individual on quite this level, and it leads to an incredible and poignant performance that will hopefully open the door for many more diverse roles in the future. He is joined by a fantastic supporting cast – Carey Mulligan is wonderful as his conflicted wife who decides to leave him, and whose love for her seemingly defines the protagonist, while the always reliable Isabella Rossellini and Lena Olin have exceptional roles that provide much-needed complexity to the film. However, Paul Dano is perhaps the biggest standout, voicing the mysterious entity that makes his way into the protagonist’s life, using his natural off-kilter eccentricity to infuse this otherwise bizarre character with such incredible complexity. The entire film is essentially built on the relationship between Sandler and Dano, so it makes sense that they remain the most memorable aspects of the film and the main reason the story works so well and manages to feel like such a complex character study more than just another science fiction film in which the performances are viewed as expendable.

It isn’t surprising that the majority of the praise for this story goes back to the original author – his novel was the foundation of this narrative, and he created this story and its many fascinating ideas. Yet. in the same way that we praise Kalfař’s sharp and meaningful writing, we have to acknowledge the exceptional work that went into realizing his vision on screen. The Spaceman of Bohemia is not an easy novel, and bringing it to life as a film seemed like a daunting process, since it would essentially require translating these many evocative, complex moments of self-reflection and internal discussion into a medium that doesn’t always reward such approaches to storytelling, especially in a genre that is built less on the spoken channel and more on the visual details. This film is extremely well-made, and a lot of effort is put into creating a visually exciting film. However, Renck is not interested in reinventing the genre at all, but rather paying tribute to the kind of cerebral, intelligent science fiction dramas we found in the 1970s, with the aforementioned Tarkovsky seemingly being the most prominent influence. The kind of grainy, subdued science fiction that was covertly designed as character studies seems to drive this film both narrative and aesthetically, and the film evokes this period exceptionally well and reminds us of previous works without borrowing too heavily from them. The cinematography is striking, as is the score (which is beautifully composed by Max Richter, who is genuinely one of the most exciting people working in contemporary music), as they not only capture the spirit of the genre but create a very distinct atmosphere throughout the film, which is especially important considering the level of world-building that went into this film. Spaceman is exceptionally well-made, and while it doesn’t come across as being particularly willing to redefine science fiction as a whole, it’s a remarkable tribute to the genre, especially those older works that are sometimes not given the credit they deserve.

Predicting where Spaceman is going to fit when it comes to assessing contemporary science fiction is a difficult task since there is something intrinsically different about how this film operates. Primarily, we find that it is defined by high-concept storytelling, which can be a repellant to those who want their science fiction to be entertaining long before it is thought-provoking, and unlike some of the more established entries into the sub-genre of cerebral science fiction, this film doesn’t have a massively acclaimed name at the helm, or at least not someone who has earned the benefit of the doubt from audiences. However, for every challenging idea in Spaceman, there is something valuable and ethereal. It is best viewed as a mood piece, a film driven by atmosphere more than narrative, and it requires us to leap onto the film’s wavelength most of the time, which can be a challenge, but one that is entirely worthwhile if we look at it from different angles. Even if it is just to see Sandler and his extraordinary leading performance in which he showcases sincere dramatic skills, or the fascinating visual and aural landscapes evoked in the process of building this film, Spaceman is an incredible achievement. Layered complex, and deeply emotional without being overwrought, it explores themes of trauma, isolation and psychological despair beautifully, developing many of its major ideas with sensitivity and genuine affection for its characters, and the compassion with which it approaches these ideas is remarkable. It’s a terrific film, filled with honesty and genuine curiosity into the heart of the human condition, and proves to be a very surprising and deeply intelligent science fiction film that dares to ask some of the most unconventional but deeply resonant questions on the nature of human existence and the philosophy of everyday life, which is rendered spectacularly beautiful in this astonishing film.