Space Cowboys
A few decades ago - excuse me while I freebase a couple grams of Geritol - I was fortunate enough to spend some time walking on Earth's nearest neighbor in space, a rocky concrete-gray world completely devoid of atmosphere and life, not entirely unlike Kansas City. I refer, of course, to the Moon. To the Earthbound, a beacon of love and lunacy, blamed (unjustly, we must add) for sidereally periodic increases in crime and h. sapiens goofiness, but to those of us in the space program, another mere travel destination and affirmation of our divine right of flight.
No, I haven't gone completely delusional, (at least not about this) nor have I suffered a serious psychotic break - lately. The fact is, for those of us of the egghead persuasion in the 1950s and 1960s, space travel was as real and as nearby as Edsels, Elvis and Hula Hoops. It wasn't a matter of whether we'd go to the Moon, but rather when. We watched with the same awe and respect that other generations reserved for generals, pontiffs and captains of industry as the Annointed Original Seven "Right Stuff" candidates prepared for man's tenuous first steps into space. WE KNEW space was waiting for us. By the time the world stopped to watch Neil Armstrong take his one small step for man and a long-awaited giant leap for Mr. Gorsky, we could feel the dingy talc of the Moon beneath our feet. I hope my legs don't break.
We all eventually grew up - or at least older, but we have never forsaken nor blasphemed the First High Church of the Saturn Five. That zeal, the fever for space and the people who long to embrace the infirmity are the basis for "Space Cowboys", with Clint Eastwood, James Garner, Tommy Lee Jones, Donald Sutherland and James Cromwell. Written by Howard Klausner and Ken Kaufman, directed by Clint Eastwood. MPAA rating PG-13 for some language and old guy jokes. Run time 126 minutes. Playing at a 'plex near you.
Clint Eastwood, Tommy Lee Jones, James Garner and Donald Sutherland are, respectively, Frank Corvin, Hawk Hawkins, Tank Sullivan and Jerry O'neil, who, as luck and politics would have it, were on the cusp of being the cornerstones of America's fledgling space program in the late fifties - just in time for it to be privatized and packaged for public Cold War consumption under the banner of NASA. The boys, hot shot test pilots and engineers, part of Project Daedelus, were shut out at the last minute, and never got to light the Redstone candles at The Cape.
Fast forward to the year 2000, and a communications satellite, launched decades ago by the Empire formerly known as the USSR, has begun to lose altitude and threatens to become a plummeting fireball, endangering the Earth's unwashed and unsuspecting masses. BUT - somehow, the satellite's guidance system, the key to its continued orbital stability, was a direct copy of a design by one Frank Corvin, (Eastwood) peacefully living out his retirement in the desert. The government, in the not-to-be-trusted skin of Bob Gerson, (James Cromwell) tries to strongarm Frank into rehabilitating the satellite's drooping orbit. Seems the current crop of aerospace keyboard-pounders can't make heads or tails of the "obsolete" thirty year old system. Frank, in an altruistic ploy that only Hollywood could conceive or tolerate, promises to revive the satellite provided that he and the boys of Daedelus get to fly the shuttle mission themselves. The holy name of elder spaceman John Glenn in invoked - the game is on.
Unaware of the sleazy subplot that threatens to kneecap the whole plan, Frank proceeds to dig up the old team - Hawk Hawkins, a stunt-flying cropduster; Jerry O'Neil, a roller coaster engineer; and Tank Sullivan, a Baptist minister, to try and make up for thirty years' absence from their dreams of space. They are, well, a bunch of soft old misfits - wouldn't be much of a moovie if they all looked like Stallone, would it? They boys are pushed into a crash space-fitness program and prepare for their chance to make up for lost time and earn their place on the shuttle rescue mission.
"Space Cowboys" is a lot of fun, as long as you don't mind a rapid-fire succession of old guy jokes, and they come fast and furious throughout most of the first hour. I especially liked the constant ranking between the old guys and the "kids", the current crop of NASA flyboys. After that, things settle down a bit, and the space-heroics kick in. Eastwood the director is as calm as Dirty Harry in carefully setting up the story line, developing the characters and making us care about their lives and feelings. It helps that his cast is so accomplished. You've got to remember, between Eastwood, Garner, Jones and Sutherland, we've seen these guys in over three hundred moovies and their tone and demeanor are fitting for journeyman actors who are comfortable in their own skins in front of the camera.
The other thing that sets "Space Cowboys" apart is the liberal application of real NASA footage and the use of NASA facilities to help tell the story. Any excuse for a subwoofer-smokin' big screen shuttle launch is fine with me, although there are liberties taken with space science in general and shuttle procedure in particular. Chances are that unless you're a genuine space nerd, none of these things is going to bother you very much. My peeves? In the moovies, space is a very noisy place, things happen way too quickly, and NASA is constantly referred to in glowing "high tech" terms. The truth is that sound doesn't travel in a vacuum, rendezvous and capture with a robotic arm is a time-consuming and tedious operation, and NASA is about as high tech as Big Chief tablet. The notion of obsolete guidance software written in arcane languages is pretty silly. But, this is only a moovie, and space is only the venue - the real appeal of "Space Cowboys" is the story of the four men who, when all is told, haven't aged a day in thirty years. You'll love the ending.
Genuinely funny and equally touching, "Space Cowboys" is an easy to enjoy, intelligent summer moovie with a little something for everyone. Houston, I don't have a problem with this moovie. My three cows are go for orbit.
No, I haven't gone completely delusional, (at least not about this) nor have I suffered a serious psychotic break - lately. The fact is, for those of us of the egghead persuasion in the 1950s and 1960s, space travel was as real and as nearby as Edsels, Elvis and Hula Hoops. It wasn't a matter of whether we'd go to the Moon, but rather when. We watched with the same awe and respect that other generations reserved for generals, pontiffs and captains of industry as the Annointed Original Seven "Right Stuff" candidates prepared for man's tenuous first steps into space. WE KNEW space was waiting for us. By the time the world stopped to watch Neil Armstrong take his one small step for man and a long-awaited giant leap for Mr. Gorsky, we could feel the dingy talc of the Moon beneath our feet. I hope my legs don't break.
We all eventually grew up - or at least older, but we have never forsaken nor blasphemed the First High Church of the Saturn Five. That zeal, the fever for space and the people who long to embrace the infirmity are the basis for "Space Cowboys", with Clint Eastwood, James Garner, Tommy Lee Jones, Donald Sutherland and James Cromwell. Written by Howard Klausner and Ken Kaufman, directed by Clint Eastwood. MPAA rating PG-13 for some language and old guy jokes. Run time 126 minutes. Playing at a 'plex near you.
Clint Eastwood, Tommy Lee Jones, James Garner and Donald Sutherland are, respectively, Frank Corvin, Hawk Hawkins, Tank Sullivan and Jerry O'neil, who, as luck and politics would have it, were on the cusp of being the cornerstones of America's fledgling space program in the late fifties - just in time for it to be privatized and packaged for public Cold War consumption under the banner of NASA. The boys, hot shot test pilots and engineers, part of Project Daedelus, were shut out at the last minute, and never got to light the Redstone candles at The Cape.
Fast forward to the year 2000, and a communications satellite, launched decades ago by the Empire formerly known as the USSR, has begun to lose altitude and threatens to become a plummeting fireball, endangering the Earth's unwashed and unsuspecting masses. BUT - somehow, the satellite's guidance system, the key to its continued orbital stability, was a direct copy of a design by one Frank Corvin, (Eastwood) peacefully living out his retirement in the desert. The government, in the not-to-be-trusted skin of Bob Gerson, (James Cromwell) tries to strongarm Frank into rehabilitating the satellite's drooping orbit. Seems the current crop of aerospace keyboard-pounders can't make heads or tails of the "obsolete" thirty year old system. Frank, in an altruistic ploy that only Hollywood could conceive or tolerate, promises to revive the satellite provided that he and the boys of Daedelus get to fly the shuttle mission themselves. The holy name of elder spaceman John Glenn in invoked - the game is on.
Unaware of the sleazy subplot that threatens to kneecap the whole plan, Frank proceeds to dig up the old team - Hawk Hawkins, a stunt-flying cropduster; Jerry O'Neil, a roller coaster engineer; and Tank Sullivan, a Baptist minister, to try and make up for thirty years' absence from their dreams of space. They are, well, a bunch of soft old misfits - wouldn't be much of a moovie if they all looked like Stallone, would it? They boys are pushed into a crash space-fitness program and prepare for their chance to make up for lost time and earn their place on the shuttle rescue mission.
"Space Cowboys" is a lot of fun, as long as you don't mind a rapid-fire succession of old guy jokes, and they come fast and furious throughout most of the first hour. I especially liked the constant ranking between the old guys and the "kids", the current crop of NASA flyboys. After that, things settle down a bit, and the space-heroics kick in. Eastwood the director is as calm as Dirty Harry in carefully setting up the story line, developing the characters and making us care about their lives and feelings. It helps that his cast is so accomplished. You've got to remember, between Eastwood, Garner, Jones and Sutherland, we've seen these guys in over three hundred moovies and their tone and demeanor are fitting for journeyman actors who are comfortable in their own skins in front of the camera.
The other thing that sets "Space Cowboys" apart is the liberal application of real NASA footage and the use of NASA facilities to help tell the story. Any excuse for a subwoofer-smokin' big screen shuttle launch is fine with me, although there are liberties taken with space science in general and shuttle procedure in particular. Chances are that unless you're a genuine space nerd, none of these things is going to bother you very much. My peeves? In the moovies, space is a very noisy place, things happen way too quickly, and NASA is constantly referred to in glowing "high tech" terms. The truth is that sound doesn't travel in a vacuum, rendezvous and capture with a robotic arm is a time-consuming and tedious operation, and NASA is about as high tech as Big Chief tablet. The notion of obsolete guidance software written in arcane languages is pretty silly. But, this is only a moovie, and space is only the venue - the real appeal of "Space Cowboys" is the story of the four men who, when all is told, haven't aged a day in thirty years. You'll love the ending.
Genuinely funny and equally touching, "Space Cowboys" is an easy to enjoy, intelligent summer moovie with a little something for everyone. Houston, I don't have a problem with this moovie. My three cows are go for orbit.
