We
were reluctant to see Galaxy Quest because we anticipated another strained attempt to make humor on account of Hollywood.
Well, we were mistaken. Galaxy Quest abounds with great humor,
and it was much deeper and funnier than we had expected.
In a straightforward premise,
the "star" crew of a long cancelled TV SciFi
show, similar to Star Trek, is still hitting the convention
circuit to entertain the goofy and geeky fans, many in character
costumes. The twist comes when a group of real aliens tries to recruit
the actors to fight off a torturing nemesis. These hapless, stiff walking,
funny talking creatures believe that the TV show episodes they have
tuned into are historical records. They have no imaginative story
telling and to them, fiction is a form of lying they can barely imagine.
These elements are well combined to make a truly comical story. We
were entertained by a clever send up about the recent SCI-FI Television
super series. At the same time, we were enlightened by the themes of
heroism, fame, and acting as a form of lying. You need not take a deeper
look to enjoy this film, but the substance is there to add richness,
irony, and a quaint kind of hope.
The Captain (Tim Allen) plays a verbally abusive drunk. He has always
mistreated the cast, but in the early part of the film, he stoops
to insulting the fans as well when the geeks bug him with technical
questions about what everyone knows had been just cardboard, plastic,
and Christmas lights.
Sigourney Weaver in a blonde wig couldn’t be further from her
trademark role of Ripley in the Alien series. In Galaxy Quest,
her breasts bulge out of her uniform with her blonde wig coiffed to make
her a perfect embodiment of the starlet in a role designed for little
more than to stir the testosterone driven pulses. Yet even at that, she
is offended by the Captain’s incivility to the fans.
The wise alien is played by a bitterly resentful Alexander Dane (Alan
Rickman) who must repeat a chant about honor over and over again as he
slaps a fist across his chest. He hates the words. He hates his fellow
cast members. He hates that he has been completely sidetracked from
serious theatre to this typecast, ridiculous role with weird make up and
mask.
As all the actors begin to realize the importance of the real mission
they would never have chosen as hapless actors, they make changes and
become heroic, though still fallibly human. The people they mocked help
them save the day; the words they hated to utter take on real meaning.
On a technical level, the film delights with great visual wizardry
used to create the space world and to make us aware that we are on the
"real" space ship, even if the transporter is more like a goo
machine than the sparkling light generator we have all become accustomed
to in Star Trek. Spaceballs and other similar send
ups rely on completely ridiculous spoofs of the movies they parody with
costumes that look like they came from the second hand store.
And so, at the heart of Galaxy Quest lies the human propensity to use
story to give life meaning, richness, and fun it otherwise lacks. We
create imaginary worlds to illuminate and entertain ourselves. We may
even go over the edge, from time-to-time becoming idolizers of the false
gods and goddesses of the screens. And yet, even if the lives of actors
are fallible, and they descend to the ridiculous or craven, the
enactments they create often have transcendent value far beyond the
realities of their lives. Even if we as fans become gullible in our
identification with screen images, the whole thing has a kind of sweet,
innocent wonder that is so very human and loveable.