Scarlett Johansson serves up Apollo-era nostalgia in ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ (review)

Firmly set against the historical background of NASA’s triumphant Apollo 11 moon landing in July of 1969, “Fly Me To The Moon” is a rousing romantic comedy directed by Greg Berlanti that seductively charms and weaves its way towards becoming a true summertime crowd-pleaser.

Starring Scarlett Johansson as a crafty advertising ace named Kelly Jones who’s recruited by Woody Harrelson’s mysterious G-man Mo Berkus to stir up public enthusiasm for NASA’s space program, this primary-colored period piece opened July 12, 2024 and offers a kaleidoscope of shifting tones and witty banter that recalls Hollywood offerings from screen legends like Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn.

Channing Tatum, displaying rare comedic timing, plays by-the-books NASA flight director Cole Davis who butts heads with Jones’s unconventional marketing campaign as a romance blooms between the pair caught in this whirlwind of pumped up propaganda aimed at reigniting NASA’s cool factor.

Tossed straight into the marketing mania, Jones cooks up advertising partners like Omega Watches, Tang Breakfast Drink, Peter Pan Peanut Butter, Rice Krispies, and Fruit of the Loom underwear.

Berlanti, the prolific “Arrowverse” creator/producer directs with a light, breezy touch to allow for the natural chemistry between Johansson and Tatum to flourish with rapid-fire rhythms that harken back to vintage screwball comedies from directors Billy Wilder or Frank Capra.

First-time screenwriter Rose Gilroy did her homework while researching this story and the payoff is an authentic slice-of-life in South Florida back when the rockets rumbled and NASA ruled the beachside roost while American sentiment for outer space adventure was fading and TV networks delivered the horrors of the Vietnam War into millions of living rooms every night.

Underfunded and understaffed, NASA’s governmental funding wellspring threatens to dry up. Jones and her team launch an all-out assault of Apollo magazine features, TV specials, product placement, and inspirational politician coercions to convince senators to keep the cash taps flowing. But with the space race with the Soviets reaching a fever pitch, an alternate plan is hatched by Berkus to fake the moon landing to cover any Apollo 11 accident or mishap that might occur.

Read more: Moon-landing hoax still lives on. But why?

Jones is secretly forced to hire her flamboyant director friend Lance Vespertine (Jim Rash), whom Jones has nicknamed the “Kubrick of Commercials,” to helm the hoax in a generic isolated warehouse. Some hilarious hijinks (some involving a black cat!) predictably occur as the clock ticks closer to blastoff and a controversial decision is made that could backfire any second.

One slight disappointment is the minor bait-and-switch involved in the fact that scenes of the faked moon landing don’t arrive until the film is half over and are somewhat distracting as the movie tips precariously from comedy to slapstick, back to melodrama, romance, then farce, never settling on one particular style.

Production design is notably accurate to the analog times with fine attention to detail, especially the notoriously vivid fashion of the late ’60s and Johansson’s rainbow of sassy outfits. As a nostalgic window to the past, it’s all Camaros and Corvettes, cocktails and swingin’ jazz, cigarettes, crew cuts and skinny ties.

Its smart screenplay from Gilroy, based on a story by Keenan Flynn and Bill Kirstein, which takes that oldest of debunked conspiracy theories, the one that foolishly casts doubt on the fact that Apollo 11 and five subsequent NASA missions ever touched down on the surface of the moon and pokes fun at it from all sides with full cooperation of NASA during the entire Kennedy Space Center shoot.

Dariusz Wolski’s (“Prometheus,” “The Martian,” “Alien: Covenant”) crisp saturated cinematography captures some striking moments, like Tatum’s NASA official leaning on his cool 1967 Marina Blue Camaro SS muscle car eating a sandwich with a pair of haunting floodlit launch towers in the distance, and a romantic twilight P-51 Mustang joyride filmed over a glimmering lake bathed in mid-July moonlight.

Released by Columbia Pictures and co-starring Ray Romano, Anna Garcia, Donald Elise Watkins, and Noah Robbins, “Fly Me To The Moon” will leave you sufficiently satisfied and smiling in a patriotic glow, even though it might feel a touch overlong and too light on the love story. Still, the film provides an undeniably enjoyable time capsule tied to those adventurous days of Apollo when national pride swelled and the world was united one glorious summer over half a century ago.