I.S.S.
“What do you mean it isn’t about in-school suspension?” I shouted and was quickly shushed by my fellow moviegoers. “I was promised the heir to The Breakfast Club, dammit!”
My row-mates attempted to calm me down by explaining that this contraption going by the name I.S.S. is a newfangled reference to the International Space Station, where three astronauts and just as many cosmonauts were about to get into a pickle when their countries start scorching the Earth below.
Fair enough, and the ensemble assembled to float through the detailed set in simulated zero gravity is an impressive one. In addition to West Side Story Oscar winner Ariana DeBose, we’ve got nice guy actors Chris Messina and John Gallagher Jr. as the U.S. kids, and a pair of notorious TV villains (The Americans’ Costa Ronin and Game of Thrones’ Pilou Asbæk) as the Russians. It’s smart casting and creates an air of uncertainty around their evolving motives, as does Masha Mashkova’s presence as the third Russian since no one’s ever heard of her and she could go either way allegiance-wise.
Despite vibes disturbingly reminiscent of the star-studded but dopey Alien knock-off Life, and a similarly promising start, I.S.S. offers a decent buildup as Debose’s scientist adjusts to her new surroundings. But hardly anything is known about her or anyone else, so when terrestrial shit goes down and the Americans are given dangerously vague orders to seize control of the station, the actions of all involved feel random and lack depth. Seriously, I’m not even going to list the characters’ names because it doesn’t matter and you won’t remember them even if you take notes during the damn thing.
This is clearly a first screenplay, and while writer Nick Shafir has his appealing cast awkwardly spell out way too many things, he receives little help from director Gabriela Cowperthwaite when he needs it most. Though she ably guides her stars through the ship while nothing is at stake, she can’t direct a fight scene to save Shamu’s ghost, especially one particular single-combat sequence.
Not to doubt someone’s capabilities, but what evidence is there to suspect she could pull off such an assignment? I’m not wild about Cowperthwaite’s SeaWorld documentary, Blackfish, nor the well-made but saccharine Our Friend, and I ran in the opposite direction from fact-based military drama Megan Leavey — though in hindsight, I wouldn’t mind seeing that hack Common out-acted by a German Shepherd.
If all of the above doesn’t have you checking your watch or seeing if maybe the NY Times’ app got glitchy and made tomorrow’s Wordle available early, the overly open-ended ending — yes, there is such a thing — will have everyone except the filmmakers’ relatives praying that no sequel arises.
Probably the most impressive detail about this dud — and one that makes its swift second-half descent all the more of a shame — is that it’s a complete soundstage job, filmed down on the Carolina coast in Wilmington. That’s right: our state’s capable of killing Michael Myers and putting Anita in space, the latter of which would be a whole lot more fun if fully functioning minds were at the helm.
Grade: C-minus. Rated R. Now playing at AMC River Hills 10, Carolina Cinemark, and Regal Bitlmore Grande.
(Photo: Bleecker Street)
