As long as Fly Me to the Moon stays on that simple level of Irresistible Force (Kelly) meets Immovable Object (Cole), the movie is decent fluffy fun. Kelly lines up product sponsorships (most of them real - remember Tang?) and gives astronauts Neil Armstrong (Nick Dillenburg), Buzz Aldrin (Colin Woodell) and Michael Collins (Christian Zuber) an all-American-hero makeover. She humanises the mission, in other words, and provides it with leading men and a storyline. All of which gives Cole - a fighter pilot and a scientist congenitally allergic to lying - the hives.
Tatum sells his character’s square-jawed sincerity with an undercurrent of old-school patriotism, and he’s good enough to make you forget how sharp his comic timing can be. Fly Me to the Moon is built on classic screwball-comedy bones, where the man represents order and the woman is pure chaos agent. Think Hepburn and Grant in Bringing Up Baby - Mr Orthodoxy, meet Miss Catastrophe. But while Johansson does her best, she may be too thoughtful an actress for Kelly to really let loose. There’s no madness in her, and so the romance never fully takes flight.
The screenplay by Rose Gilroy, from a story by Keenan Flynn and Bill Kirstein, doesn’t help, since it’s juggling the love story with a serious treatment of the Apollo 11 mission preparations, and that’s before the sinister government agent reappears to insist Kelly produce a hush-hush fake Moon landing on a soundstage, in case the real one goes south. (I’m not telling you anything that’s not in the trailers.)
True, one of the lovers in a rom-com always has to have a secret for there to be a second-act betrayal and argument, but this - this is nuts. The film’s staged Moon landing, of course, is a nod to conspiracy theories that arose in the 1970s positing that the Apollo programne was a Nasa hoax directed by Stanley Kubrick (who gets a passing shout-out in Fly Me to the Moon) and designed to hoodwink the Soviets. (1977′s Capricorn One helped popularise the myth, too, substituting Mars for the Moon.)
Director Greg Berlanti (Love, Simon) gets some healthy slapstick out of the soundstage sequences, but the whole subplot has a queasy feeling, as if even pretending the hoax really happened is enough to reawaken the crazies. But all of Fly Me to the Moon is like that: broad farce, serious historical drama (there’s more than one visit to the memorial for the fallen astronauts of Apollo 1), light romantic comedy, suspense and more, all wrapped up in two hours and 12 minutes of lumpy entertainment. (Resolved: A good rom-com should last no longer than 90 minutes.)
Some fine actors get lost in the clutter - Garcia, Ray Romano as Cole’s supervisor, Noah Robbins and Donald Elise Watkins as junior Nasa employees. As the screamingly gay ad director hired to film the fake landings - he’s named Lance, for pity’s sake - Jim Rash is swish enough to make you miss the subtle comic stylings of Paul Lynde. Fly Me to the Moon strains to achieve liftoff, sometimes quite amusingly. But in the end, it’s just too heavy to get off the ground.
Ty Burr is the author of the movie recommendation newsletter Ty Burr’s Watch List at tyburrswatchlist.com.
Two and one-half stars. Rated PG-13. At theatres. Contains some strong language and smoking. 132 minutes.
Rating guide: Four stars masterpiece, three stars very good, two stars okay, one star poor, no stars waste of time.