“Halloween Twenty Fifteen”: A Review of “The Cosmonaut” (2013)


No tagline. No funny, witty opening. This movie sucked, plain and simple. Part of me thinks the director made this to serve as a cure for people suffering from insomnia. It would work better than Lunesta. I should be given an award for staying awake and sticking with the film as long as I did. The Cosmonaut is the most boring and stupid movie I have ever seen. Normally, I get more creative and intelligent when trying to find adjectives to describe the films I review, but I lost so many brain cells that I can’t think of any here. It’s a miracle I’m not staggering around my house, sucking my thumb, and yelling “Mama!” after watching this crap. I will admit, the first five minutes were captivating, and the cinematography and visuals throughout are gorgeous, but the story is so convoluted and ambiguous that it makes Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris look like the answer to the meaning of life.

Had I not read the synopsis beforehand, I wouldn’t even be able to tell you what it’s about. According to IMDB, this is the summary of the film I watched: “What if you got back home… and there was nobody there? In 1975, the first Russian cosmonaut on the Moon is unable to make his way back and is declared missing in Space. However, through ghostly radio messages, he claims to have come back to Earth and found it empty, not a living soul. His unrealistic presence and his voice will little by little destroy the world of his beloved ones.” From what I observed, when I wasn’t aimlessly staring out the window looking for something interesting to happen—like a squirrel trying to find an acorn in the grass—there are multiple stories happening at the same time. Multiple blisteringly boring stories involving Russia Cosmonauts, all of whom have British accents. But no matter, they might as well have been speaking Swahili. I actually skipped through a good half hour of this movie before randomly picking a spot to resume and didn’t feel any more lost than when I started.

I wanted someone to gouge my eyes out with a mellon-baller or grapefruit spoon. I wanted to climb up onto my roof and take a swan dive. I’m literally unable to comprehend what I just watched. If the movie itself does not bore you to death, then the 21 minute-long end credits will certainly do the job. No, I didn’t sit through those—that would have required someone calling 911 because I would have no-doubt grabbed the nearest sharp object and went for my own throat. Watch this only if you haven’t slept in days, then consult your psychiatrist. Medication required.

Starring Leon Ockenden, Katrine de Candole, and Max Wrottesley. Directed by Nicholas Alcala (it should be illegal for him to direct another project).

1 out of 10 stars.

More articles in this special “Halloween Twenty-Fifteen” column can be found here.

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