This is a rather challenging film to watch, because it is about a man who doesn’t want to talk. Neil Armstrong, played by an expectedly nuanced Ryan Gosling, loses his daughter to a fatal brain tumor and guards this wound from the past. He does not seem to want to make any conscious attempt to heal or move on. He plays his cards so close to his chest, it literally takes a trip to the moon for him to break down in isolation. His arc is so internal, to the extent that even no one around him gets to see it. This also explains the rapid time jumps taken – even time doesn’t have an effect on him. The film ends on a note where he still is, or can only be, silent – A glass separates him and his wife. His catharsis might come late, but one would never expect it to be presented in a subdued manner. This is a whole another side to the moon landing, and I am glad this story has been told with such a mature tone.

Damien Chazelle’s intimate staging facilitates for us to be with Armstrong at his most private, and at the same time focuses on those around him. The direction prefers the meditative, for how it takes us through very real and mundane moments instead of triumphant-looking ones. No matter how dwarfed our earthbound problems may seem, especially when pit against something as big as the idea of space travel, there’s obviously no walking away from self-healing. This is a fascinatingly inward and personal look at an adventure that defined an entire species.