Spaceman

There is a specific kind of exhaustion that only Adam Sandler can wear. It isn’t the "I just ran a marathon" tired; it’s the "I have carried the weight of the world’s expectations for thirty years" tired. In Spaceman, he brings that heavy-lidded weariness to the edge of the solar system, playing Jakub Procházka, a Czech astronaut six months into a solo mission to investigate a mysterious purple cloud near Jupiter. I watched this while wearing a pair of itchy wool socks I found in the back of my drawer, and strangely, that tactile discomfort perfectly matched the claustrophobic, scratchy vibe of Jakub’s crumbling spaceship.

Directed by Johan Renck—the man who gave us the gritty, tactile dread of the Chernobyl miniseries—this isn't your typical "save the world" space odyssey. It’s a therapy session in zero gravity. Jakub is lonely, his skin is breaking out, his toilet is making horrifying noises, and his wife, Lenka (played by a luminous but underutilized Carey Mulligan), has stopped sending him video messages. Then, a giant, telepathic spider shows up in the pantry.

The Therapist with Eight Legs

If you're an arachnophobe, this movie is a nightmare. If you’re a fan of Paul Dano, it’s a delight. Dano voices Hanuš, the ancient, soot-colored arachnid who may or may not be a hallucination born of sleep deprivation. Unlike the clicking, screeching monsters of Starship Troopers, Hanuš is soft-spoken, curious, and has a weird obsession with hazelnut spread.

I’ll be honest: the best thing Netflix did for Adam Sandler was letting him stop trying to be funny. Between this and Uncut Gems, he’s proven he can hold a frame with nothing but a sigh. Most of the film is just Sandler suspended by wires, floating in a cramped cabin, arguing with a CGI spider about his emotional failings. It’s a big swing. In our current era of "franchise fatigue" and "safe" streaming bets, seeing a $40 million budget spent on a depressed man talking to a bug feels like a glitch in the Matrix. It’s the kind of "weird" cinema that usually gets buried in the algorithm, but it deserves a look for the sheer audacity of its premise.

A Marriage Drifting Out of Orbit

While Jakub is having a breakthrough near Jupiter, the film keeps cutting back to Earth, where Carey Mulligan (Promising Young Woman) is doing the heavy lifting of the emotional narrative. Lenka is pregnant, lonely, and done with her husband’s metaphorical and literal distance. These scenes should feel vital, but they often feel like they belong to a different, more conventional movie.

The problem with contemporary "prestige" streaming films is often the pacing. They aren't edited for the big screen; they’re edited for people who might pause to check their phones. Spaceman meanders. It dwells on the purple dust of the "Chopra Cloud" and the hazy memories of Jakub’s childhood in the Czech Republic. Johan Renck uses a lot of distorted lenses and dreamlike imagery, which looks fantastic but can feel a bit repetitive. Kunal Nayyar (The Big Bang Theory) pops up as a ground control technician who clearly cares more about Jakub’s mental health than the mission’s success, and Isabella Rossellini adds a touch of class as the mission commander, but they’re mostly there to provide exposition.

The Streaming Shroud

Why didn’t you hear more about this movie when it dropped? It’s a classic victim of the "Friday Release, Monday Forgotten" cycle that plagues the streaming era. It doesn't have a post-credits scene, it isn't setting up a "Spaceman Cinematic Universe," and it’s too somber for a casual weekend watch. It’s a "hard" sci-fi drama that values mood over momentum.

Behind the scenes, the production was a bit of a puzzle. It was filmed during the tail end of the pandemic, which explains the palpable sense of isolation. Interestingly, the film is based on the novel Spaceman of Bohemia by Jaroslav Kalfař, and while the book leans harder into the political history of the Czech Republic, the movie strips that away to focus on the "guy in a room" trope. Turns out, Paul Dano recorded his lines separately, and Sandler often acted against a tennis ball or a silent stand-in. That they managed to create a genuine bond between a man and a space-spider is a testament to the VFX team and Dano’s eerie, soothing vocal performance.

Spaceman is a strange, melancholy little film that feels like a relic from an era that never actually happened—a high-budget indie that isn't afraid to be deeply "uncool." It’s a bit too slow for its own good, and the ending might leave you floating in a sea of ambiguity, but Sandler’s performance is genuinely moving. If you’ve ever felt like you were drifting away from the people you love, Hanuš the spider might have some advice for you. Just bring your own hazelnut spread.