“Houston, we have a problem.” – Tom Hanks as Apollo 13 Commander Jim Lovell
In so many ways, the competition between the Soviet Union and the United States of America for dominance in spaceflight capabilities called forth the very best that America had to offer. Beginning in the wake of World War II with ‘Operation: Paperclip’, and proceeding through the end of the Apollo program in the mid-1970s, this prolonged effort (commonly referred to as the “Space Race”) produced a wealth of objectively game-changing feats of innovation in a staggeringly short period of time. Many of these feats were initially accomplished on a razor’s edge, cobbled together with barely functioning (and often re-purposed) equipment available on-hand, and loaded with enormous risk at every turn. There were costly failures. There were casualties. Behind the significant technical achievements was another rare feat – the mass mobilization of national will at nearly all levels of American society. Correctly realizing that technological superiority in this domain was both critical to national security and symbolic of ideological superiority, America marshaled unprecedented funding and manpower on a societal scale to meet the challenge posed by the Soviets.
Over time, the Space Race has come to be viewed as far more than the sum of its parts, synonymous with the American spirit itself, and embodying the best of mankind’s values: ambition, vision, grit, resourcefulness, determination, and true heroism. The highest praise that I can give Ron Howard’s magnificent 1995 film ‘Apollo 13’ is that it perfectly captures the essence of this period of American history, depicting one of its most riveting and dramatic chapters without a hint of apology or irony.
Houston, we have a clusterf—
The story of ‘Apollo 13’, though well-known to many, was entirely new to me when I first saw the film. A mere nine months after the success of the Apollo 11 moon landing, American astronauts Jim Lovell (Tom Hanks), Fred Haise (Bill Paxton), and Jack Swigert (Kevin Bacon) are on a mission to further explore the lunar surface when an onboard oxygen tank explodes, crippling their spacecraft and placing them in significant peril. Forced to rely on their wits, their engineering acumen (including basic arithmetic skills), and the tireless efforts of the team at Mission Control in Houston, they must overcome a series of complex technical challenges in order to stay alive long enough to make it back to Earth. Flight Director Gene Kranz (Ed Harris, doing career-best work) directs the rescue effort from Houston while fellow astronaut Ken Mattingly (Gary Sinise) and a team of top engineers develop procedures for solving problems they never dreamed they’d have to face. Meanwhile Americans across the country, including Lovell’s wife Marilyn (Kathleen Quinlan), nervously scan news reports for any sign of hope, however diminished.
As a premise for a movie, you really can’t get much more inherent drama than that. This story offers such a broad, multi-layered canvas to work with that it’s something of a wonder director Ron Howard and screenwriters William Broyles, Jr. and Al Reinert are able to depict it with such clarity, and in such a straightforward, even grounded manner. That’s not to say there’s no room for earnest sentiment here – there’s plenty of that on display throughout. But like the real-life NASA mission, ‘Apollo 13’ deftly pivots in tone from the awe and grandeur of space exploration to the desperation of a difficult rescue mission.
Remarkably, both stretches of the film are highly inspiring but for different reasons. For instance, we share in the sense of wonder during the powerful launch sequence that begins the astronauts’ journey, which inspires us because it depicts an inherently incredible achievement – placing a man in space. Later, when a team of chain-smoking engineers develops a makeshift air filter that ends up keeping the astronauts alive for a little longer, we are no less inspired – this time due to the sheer ingenuity involved. The filmmakers generate considerable suspense simply by showing a steady stream of major crises being solved through determination and resourcefulness, and often just in the nick of time. Director Howard (snubbed by the Academy at the 1996 Oscars) skillfully cuts between the action on the ground and the outer space sequences, sustaining our interest and ensuring the pace never lags.
‘Apollo 13’ is one of those films that would not be half as effective without this cast performing at such a peak level, even in minor roles. Tom Hanks makes for an ideal Jim Lovell, calm and sturdy under pressure, but not lacking vulnerability. Hanks is always appealing, but I think this was the film where he settled into the ‘moral everyman’ role that he would re-visit in ‘Saving Private Ryan’, ‘The Green Mile’, and ‘Bridge of Spies’, portraying Lovell as a likable and highly competent professional, rather than as a hot-dog test pilot. Bill Paxton also does excellent work as the folksy Haise, who can easily alternate between sharing off-color idioms and evaluating Main Bus A undervolts. Kevin Bacon and Gary Sinise find real poignancy in the dynamic between the rookie Swigert and the seasoned Mattingly, who is prematurely bumped from the mission but who makes a crucial contribution in getting his colleagues home.
For my money, the MVP here is Ed Harris as Gene Kranz (robbed by Kevin Spacey at the 1996 Oscars). Miles from his portrayal of John Glenn in Philip Kaufman’s 1983 space epic ‘The Right Stuff’, Harris is all steely resolve and focus, providing the unflinching backbone of the movie, and in some ways the entire story. Though Hanks provides the movie’s most famous line, it is Harris who gets the best lines (“I believe this is gonna be our finest hour.”; “Failure is not an option!”), each of which exemplifies the entire spirit of the American Space Program in microcosm. All of the performances are realistic yet energetic, reminding us of the sterling character of the real-life astronauts and professionals involved in the Apollo program.
A great example of the ‘Dolly Zoom’ technique
Space travel in general is inherently cinematic, and one of the great delights of ‘Apollo 13’ is its striking imagery, achieved via some marvelous visual effects work from Digital Domain (absolutely robbed by ‘Babe’ at the 1996 Oscars!). The movie was produced in the mid-90s, at a time when computer-generated effects were still very much coming-of-age. Unfortunately, time has not been kind to many films from that era (or even some recent ones), but surprisingly most of the CGI work here holds up remarkably well, enhancing the central story.
Aside from one clunky shot, the launch sequence is a standout for me, all the more impressive because nobody had really shown one on film as skillfully before…or since. I also love the “manual burn” that the astronauts need to execute in order to correct their course – the stakes are so high, and the execution so difficult, that you realize these men needed an entire lifetime of improvisation and skill to even attempt such a risky maneuver, let alone pull it off. Here again, the visual effects come through in spades, producing a very exciting sequence in a movie with no shortage of such sequences. James Horner’s score (robbed by Luis Bacalov at the 1996 Oscars), is given the non-trivial task of balancing suspenseful beats like that with the more majestic thematic elements of the film. He responds with one of his all-time best scores, brimming with emotion and energy.
Not too shabby
The clunky shot – why is a crane filling more of the frame than the rocket?
On the practical side, the ingenious use of a Boeing KC-135 aircraft to produce actual weightlessness for the three principal actors (in 23-second increments) proves essential in lending visual credibility to the proceedings aboard the spacecraft. Howard and his crew exhibit attention to detail through all aspects of the production, from the late-60s period touches to exact re-creations of the space-age technology, simulators, and infrastructure that first placed a man on the moon. I particularly enjoyed the attention to detail in the script – Hanks, Paxton and Bacon talk like real astronauts would, relaying status reports and technical acronyms in easy shorthand. They even pronounce Gemini correctly (Gem-in-EE).
I also really appreciated the skillful relaying of exposition throughout. Exposition as a screenwriting technique gets a bad rap but only because it is often done so poorly. ALL films need to employ it to some extent in order to orient the viewer, and the best scripts find a way to deliver it subtly without calling attention to the artifice. Here, the details of each technical hurdle and its eventual solution are clearly and logically laid out, usually through a dialogue between Mission Control and the astronauts, or via diagrams hastily drawn on chalkboards. These are effective, credible devices, and we never feel lost – this is one of those films that makes you feel smart because the screenwriters (robbed by Emma Thompson at the 1996 Oscars) involve you in the problem-solving process.
‘Apollo 13’ exists in my precise entertainment wheelhouse – a piece of intelligent, expertly crafted popular art with tremendous appeal to a broad audience. I appreciate it more than Kaufman’s ‘The Right Stuff’, which also successfully dramatized the bravery of the Mercury 7 astronauts, but which took a few too many needless detours in the service of lionizing the legendary Chuck Yeager. I also appreciate it far more than Damien Chazelle’s recent bio-pic misfire ‘First Man’, which made the near-fatal error of leaning so heavily into Neil Armstrong’s purported misanthropy that it somehow removed all the grandeur from the freaking moon landing!
By telling a very human, personal story against the majestic backdrop of space, ‘Apollo 13’ succeeds in being uplifting and earnest without being saccharine. If you want an example of a scene that brings me to tears without fail, just watch Ed Harris and the rest of Mission Control as they react to the successful splashdown of the Command Module. The whole movie earns the emotion produced in that moment, a combination of pure elation and total exhaustion. Robbed by ‘Braveheart’ at the 1996 Oscars, ‘Apollo 13’ is a fine reminder of the power of film to uplift and inspire, and of the best of mankind’s values, at a time when those values are in short supply indeed.
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