The Astronaut's Wife (1999, R)

Written, Produced and Directed by Rand Ravich

Starring Charlize Theron, Johnny Depp, and Clea DuVall

As Reviewed by James Brundage (MovieKritic2000)

The end of August comes to us in the dismal form of late-rate movies. You know the ones I'm talking about. These are the ones that studios backed but bilked out on when they saw the final cut. They knew they needed a summer release to recapture the budget, and they knew that the only was to do this was to stick it in the pack of films being released in late August. All of the studios know this trick. Were I completely conspiracy minded, I would say that they coordinate their releases in order to give us no choice but to see crappy movies.

The Astronaut's Wife is one such movie.

Unlike the majority of summer films, it has plot. In fact, it almost drowns in plot. What it lacks in is pace.

It does have a pace: ultra slow. Alfred Hitchcock, a master of suspense, said that the anticipation is better than the payoff. Rule of thumb to horror film makers: do not follow every rule of thumb that Hitchcock put out. The fact is that when you have a movie that is all anticipation with no payoff, you have crap.

The plot of The Astronaut's Wife is that all-American astronaut Spencer Armacost (Johnny Depp) is possessed by an alien transmission, and the first thing he does when he gets back to Earth is the most logical: he impregnates beautiful-all-American schoolteacher and wife Jillian Armacost (Charlize Theron). Spencer quits NASA for a corporate job (and yet no one doubts this guy's sanity until the creepy music comes on???) in New York, where the two of them pursue their oh-so-happy existence while an alien spawn grows inside her.

For me, The Astronaut's Wife spells proof-positive that this Second Coming of horror films is worst than the first. With the 80s horror films, they at least were funny to watch. With the 90s horror films, they take themselves way too seriously to be funny to watch and result in a complete two hours of boredom. We have the same cheesy plot as any 50s B-movie would throw at us. We have the trademark cliches of the modern breed of B-movie (i.e. Jillian was once suicidal and now is a position to trade her life to save the world, can we say The Seventh Sign?). Yet we lack the ultra-horrible dialogue and performances that made horror movies of the 80s enjoyable.

As for describing the rest of the movie, I will allow maxims to do my job for me.

For the performances: "When you can't act, overact." Everyone does their jobs as far as acting is concerned… and then some. In fact, one wonders whether Johnny Depp's is taking acting lessons from Al Gore.

For the cinematography: "Beauty is only skin deep, but ugliness goes all the way to the bone." There are a few pretty shots, but they come too little, too late. Instead, we get pretty much nothing.

For the special effects: "I can see! It's a miracle! Oh, wait, I was wrong." The one time that special effects are used appears cool at first and then takes form so it looks like someone is being attacked by a giant piece of Jell-O.

Yeah, it's late August. You can smell it in the air, you can feel it in your bones, you can see it on the faces of children, and you can tell when every single movie on the marquee doesn't appeal to you at all but you want to see one anyway because you have a date.