‘Project Hail Mary’ Review: Ryan Gosling Leads a Smart, Heartfelt Sci-Fi Adventure

An ambitious piece of science fiction that borrows from just about every dystopia imaginable—while sprinkling in a few references more typical of comedy—Project Hail Mary wants to be several things at once. On one hand, it aims to be a big, sweeping movie about the future of the planet (and perhaps more than that). On the other, it’s a warm and gently funny story about the relationship between a lonely astronaut and an extraterrestrial creature. Working from that premise, the creative duo of Phil Lord and Christopher Miller—who haven’t directed a film in twelve years, since The Lego Movie and 22 Jump Street back in 2014—manage to cover all the bases. The result is a film that functions simultaneously as a rough-edged survival story, a family-friendly comedy, and an oddly hopeful tale about the possibility—or impossibility—of saving what’s left of the world.

The film is based on the novel by Andy Weir, the author of The Martian, and its screenplay is by Drew Goddard, who also adapted that earlier book for the film version directed by Ridley Scott and starring Matt Damon. Like that movie, Project Hail Mary requires an actor charismatic enough to hold the screen almost entirely on his own for long stretches of its 160-minute running time. Ryan Gosling—in what may be his most relaxed performance in years—turns out to be perfect for the job. He brings warmth, humor and a surprising emotional weight to a role that’s physically demanding, technically complicated and constantly shifting in tone. Gosling, who won an Oscar nomination for La La Land, has to play a man alone in space, suffering from amnesia and facing an almost impossible mission—and somehow make the whole experience feel light, engaging, even endearing.

Part Gravity, part Cast Away, with a dose of E.T. and the broader Amblin universe, plus a dash of various apocalyptic sci-fi sagas, the story begins when a man named Ryland Grace (Gosling) wakes up in a spacecraft after a long induced coma. It’s the near future. He has no idea who he is or why he’s there. His body barely responds, he doesn’t understand what’s happening, and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do. Slowly, amid the confusion—physical, psychological and practical—he discovers that he is the last surviving crew member aboard the ship. His two companions are dead, and the only thing guiding him is an automated AI-like voice trying to steer him toward completing his task. The strange thing is that, little by little, he realizes he’s capable of doing far more than he thought.

Lord and Miller alternate this present-day storyline with the events that led Ryland there, told through flashbacks that occupy much of the film’s first half. Through them we learn that he’s actually a scientist whose somewhat unconventional ideas pushed him out of the academic world, leaving him teaching middle-school science instead. Ryland is friendly and funny with his students, but the last thing he expects is to be recruited by a group of scientists led by the formidable German researcher Eva Stratt, played by Sandra Hüller. They’re not there to accuse him of anything. Quite the opposite—they need him. As it turns out, his supposedly fringe theories may not have been so wrong after all.

Explaining the exact details of the crisis would be tedious, complicated and highly technical, so here’s the short version: parasitic microorganisms called “Astrophage” are draining energy from stars—including the Sun—creating a mysterious luminous arc between the Sun and Venus known as the Petrova Line. If the phenomenon continues, it will trigger a new ice age, making human life on Earth impossible within about thirty years. Gosling’s character may be the only person who understands how to stop it. The problem is that doing so involves a multi-year journey across the Milky Way with no guarantee of ever returning home. There’s also one small complication: he doesn’t actually remember how he ended up on that mission in the first place.

Despite initial appearances, Ryland’s journey won’t remain entirely solitary. At one point, while traveling toward the star Tau Ceti—which seems unaffected by the Petrova Line—he encounters an enormous and very unusual spacecraft from the planet Erid, apparently on the same mission. Inside that immense vessel—one of the film’s best production design surprises—is another lone traveler who eventually makes contact with him. From that moment on, Ryland is no longer the only one responsible for saving the galaxy, though communication with his new partner proves to be anything but straightforward.

If the film initially treats its own premise with a slightly comic, even absurd sensibility—thanks largely to Gosling’s laid-back performance—the arrival of this new character (whom Ryland quickly nicknames Rocky for fairly obvious reasons) pushes things even further into playful territory, sometimes bordering on childlike. From that point forward the movie adopts a distinctly Spielbergian spirit that remains until the end. While Goddard and the directors never lose sight of the catastrophic stakes, Project Hail Mary maintains a buoyant, almost cheerful tone, gradually turning into a kind of cosmic buddy comedy set in the middle of a mission to save the galaxy.

The same light touch extends to the flashbacks, particularly in Ryland’s relationships with Eva Stratt and the various astronauts, scientists and colleagues he encounters along the way. At times it even becomes difficult to fully feel the weight of the looming disaster everyone keeps warning about. The film’s constant shifts between tones can feel slightly forced—almost as if Lord and Miller’s naturally playful sensibility (they’re also key creative forces behind the animated Spider-Man films) is simply too friendly to let the situation’s gravity sink in completely. When the film tries to balance the two approaches, it often leans toward sentimentality, favoring emotion over reflection and warmth over the intellectual seriousness of the ideas it introduces.

Still, in what may well be the most good-natured apocalyptic movie ever made, Gosling plays a crucial role in holding everything together. Much of the film’s tone rests on his performance, especially once he begins communicating with the alien. The process is… unusual (you’ll see why), and Gosling deploys a whole arsenal of physical comedy and improvisational charm to navigate this strange new partnership. He approaches it with ingenuity, expressive physicality and a sincerity completely free of cynicism—qualities that keep the film from tipping into self-aware parody.

Between him, Hüller—whose character hovers intriguingly between icy pragmatism and reluctant heroism—and the curious, somewhat eccentric alien creature (voiced by James Ortiz) that may well replace E.T. in the imagination of younger viewers, Project Hail Mary ultimately proposes something rather unusual for a modern blockbuster. In a time when our daily lives rarely offer much reason for optimism, the film places its faith in science—and, perhaps even more importantly, in humanity’s seemingly endless capacity for empathy. Especially toward those who, at least at first glance, appear to have nothing in common with us.