 The Reluctant Astronaut (1967) Astronaut is such a low-key, low-energy comedy, it's almost belligerent in its refusal to find comedy in even the most obvious comedic situations. Throughout the film, the expectation of comedy is dashed again and again, to the point where that in itself becomes funny. When you hear the title, you automatically assume the plot line will go as follows: Don Knotts plays some bumbling loser inadvertently duped into becoming an astronaut. He mugs his way through a series of training mishaps, gets blasted into space against his will, and eventually saves the world strictly by accident. In reality, Knotts only thinks he's been duped into becoming an astronaut (his overbearing father mistakenly fills out a NASA application for janitor), he never actually trains for spaceflight, and the only thing he accidentally saves while in space is his own clumsy self. Granted, there are a few funny sequences, and a handful of moderately amusing moments, but the complete void of comedic payoff is at times infuriating … or more accurately in the case of such a mild-mannered film, vaguely irritating. For instance, when Knotts is ordered to wax the floor of a control room, one fully expects to see him riding an out of control floor-waxer and wreaking havoc on the space controls. What actually happens? He sees his father on a security monitor and runs off to stop the deluded man from discovering that Knotts isn't really an astronaut. The floor waxer wreaks no havoc, instead spinning harmlessly to the chagrin of a nearby security officer. That, my friends, is the weak choice on display. Some of the funniest moments come out of left field, like seeing Knotts' father dance awkwardly to the 1812 Overture, or the guy who crashes his car after seeing Knotts driving in his amusement-park astronaut costume, or the snaking loop of zero-G peanut butter that hangs in the air throughout an extended sequence in space. That's not to say the film doesn't have its charm. It's so quaint and small, you can't help but like it – quite the opposite of equally flat but far more obsequious Jerry Lewis films. Knotts is a great performer, perfectly suited to the sad-sack role, the ultimate loveable underdog. His scenes with the nameless love-interest are sweet, his longing palpable. And his camaraderie with surprise ally Leslie Nielsen (playing, of all things, a hunky straight-man) is possibly even touching. It's unfortunate that Knotts never got to flex his acting chops in truly good films; he could have had Bill Murray's career had he not been confined to playing the reluctant-this and the unlucky-that. But given the era, in which Guess Who's Coming to Dinner was promoted as "lighthearted farce," Knotts made the best of a comically bereft time. And, inexplicably, Knotts has risen from the dustbin of history, in part thanks to behind-the-curve hipsters who are just now discovering that it's okay to actually love "Three's Company" without irony. Somehow, Knotts is so square he's cool, completely despite himself. Not that his name is on the lips of more than a very few, but he's managed to generate a certain level of contrarian appeal without doing anything more than appearing in low-grade fare like Astronaut and the much-admired (and/or much-mocked) The Love God? Still, that doesn't make The Reluctant Astronaut much more than a mildly hypnotic diversion from your daily routine of making copies for bosses five years younger than you, wondering whether your own inner Don Knotts will ever get the metaphorical girl.
Review by Crimedog |