The Show Goes On (Boldly)
Galaxy Quest (PG)
On general release. Directed by Dean Parist
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Starring: Tim Allen, Alan Rickman, Sigourney Weaver, Missi Pyle, Tony Shaloub, Daryl Mitchell, Sam Rockwell
Just when the Trek empire has spread itself too far, and the franchise is collapsing, along comes a parody of the original boldly goers. David Howard and Robert Gordon's affectionate script seems to have lain in a bottom drawer for a fair while, for all its allusions are to the original series, apart from one take-off of the first film, and one juvenile crew member. OK, the confirmed fans are netheads, but version 1.0 must date from the 70s, with the show recently cancelled, and rumours of its return still stirring the true believers.
For all that it's a very gentle satire (as it has to be, for one thing, these people never harmed anyone, for another, the skit must reflect on the fans, and they're the paying audience), Tim Allen's Jason Nesmith makes you cringe for William Shatner. Outwardly a bluff, professional, charming trouper, at least to himself, he is a reviled egomaniac to his colleagues. Tim Allen, who in his sitcom, Home Improvement seemed to have two gears - saccharine family man, and obnoxious camera-hogging tv host, here physically resembles Shatner, and plays him as a not quite connected vain buffoon.
Many sci-fi shows sacrifice credibility for the cut to the chase, or toss around the FX so the ooh-factor by-passes the critical faculties. Galaxy Quest doesn't bear examination. Actors past their sell by dates are mistaken by naive aliens for real heroes and are taken to a replica ship to fight their battles. (But if the aliens thought it was real, why would they build a ship? And so on. Don't quibble; it pops like a soap bubble.) The aliens are called Thermians, and despite being actually octopus like, some gizmo renders them awkward shuffling humans, who blend in perfectly at the pseudo-Trek convention.
The received word on Gladiator was that it hit the skids after the opening battle. Not really fair. Galaxy Quest opens well, you don't have to get the Star Trek minutiae to recognise the neurotic cast. The scene seems set for a bickering, sharp comedy of showbiz, of the sort that was the vogue in the 1940s. However, once they're all aboard the 'real' spacecraft, the verbal play slackens, and the humour is more about tumbling about the bridge and space chases.
Rickman always delivers, even when it's pure corn. Here he's close to home, and relishes it: Alexander Dane (great name) is a British ac-tour, who has sold his soul, and the world is still in the post. Sigourney Weaver, twenty years after Alien, is still delightful, and has more to do than in her better known movies. The pool of half decent parts for older women may be small, but she deserves more exposure as a thesp. This must be Tim Allen's best part and best performance. He employs all his usual annoying traits to comic effect, and brings off a credible character. Galaxy Quest is fortunate that they're willing and able, because while the script stays in comedy mode throughout, its bouts of 'action' (or possibly 'plot') are only tedious.
Beneath the surface jokes, the writers seem to yearn to write a serious science fiction movie, but they're aware of how ridiculous that wish is, and beneath that, they tell a solid, if conventional tale of multiple redemption. The cast, apart from Nesmith are in a deep rut of chasing humiliating gigs, and are desperate and desperately miserable. Allen's Nesmith overhears fans laughing at him, and is transformed from a bouncy showman to a truculent introvert in one trip to the toilet. So he gets drunk and when Thermians take him to the ship, he's too hung over to notice. Only later does he realise he has a choice between the aliens, who think he's a hero, and humanity, who think he's a dork. After that the story follows a familiar arc, under pressure the actors form a team, win mutual respect, and their lives acquire the danger and meaning they couldn't find on the z-list celebrity circuit.
It's a comedy. It ends happily. Rickman especially is transformed - without widgets - into a kinder, gentler and less raw creature, but still capable of the acid line. Weaver finds romance - or cops off - with Allen. I think she may have been written as frigid, and this is her self discovery, but it looks like a bum deal. Even the fans discover that their years of unrequited love and pedantry were not in vain. This is a film for anyone who ever felt less than challenged by life, their job, and all that.
There is one dummy ending too many. "He's dead now..." "No he's not, and he's behind you....!" (Can I be the only person who hasn't seen any of David Fincher's other films because the last year or so of Alien 3 was so boring?) On the whole though the credits roll on a feeling of satisfaction, of the world being a little happier. Logic would dictate that a sequel is ruled out. But did anyone ever live by the rules of logic?
