Review

An extra-fond Valentine to “space travel” and “the future” as they’ve been portrayed in every cheesy or faux-noble sci-fi outing from Plan 9 From Outer Space to Star Trek, Galaxy Quest is the smartest, funniest piece of American comedy since the South Park movie. I laughed, I smiled, I spit my popcorn into geostationary orbit around the theater.

The premise is pure gold, lovingly spray-painted with cheap silver paint: the aging cast of a long-canceled “Star Trek”-like TV show, now reduced to signing autographs at conventions for nerdy devotees of the defunct series, are contacted by real space aliens. The benevolent but persistent visitors from another dimension assume the TV episodes that have reached their distant, dying planet are in fact “historical documents” demonstrating the bravery and resourcefulness of the skilled and selfless Galaxy Quest crew. Having built a perfect working replica of the show’s spit-and-Styrafoam spacecraft, the earnest aliens — threatened by evil adversaries — entreat these bit players on the third rock from the sun to do their bit for interplanetary justice.

Stuck in a career time warp, the has-been actors are at each other’s throats on Earth. But gosh, wouldn’t you know it? Their abrupt, reluctant mission to aid the kindly species from beyond gives them all a chance to prove their mettle, shore up their self-esteem and reinforce our secret suspicion that even the dopiest TV shows ultimately serve a purpose.

Sigourney Weaver does a terrific comic turn as the token babe, whose spacesuit reveals ever more cleavage as the film goes on; Alan Rickman in reptilian makeup is a hoot and a half as a morose Shakespearean actor bitter about having been typecast by the accursed show; and Tim Allen bounds around with the pitch-perfect assurance of a preening William Shatner-ish captain as he seizes the chance to spout commands yet again, energized by an impromptu adventure for higher stakes than usual.

Galaxy Quest includes giant monsters, distant planets that just happen to have Earthling-friendly atmospheres (take off that silly helmet — the oxygen’s fine!), untrustworthy optical illusions, gratuitous but really neat-looking obstacles, handy teleportation devices and all the other endearing props, plot devices and gibberish we’ve learned to embrace since Flash Gordon gave way to Captain Kirk. I saw this pic on Venus and it put me over the moon — twice.

FilmFestivals.com reporter
Lisa Nesselson