To be clear: The president’s decision to create a “Space Force” branch of the military to ensure American dominance in the vacuum of nothingness was really stupid. It’s a flex of military might in a place where global unity and science should be the primary focus. Fuck that guy.
However, someone else had a really stupid idea that I have come to adore: They took the president’s stupid idea and ran with it in the form of a Netflix comedy series named Space Force.
The obvious pitfalls are almost too many to list: It’s almost impossible to do in a non-partisan way, space isn’t that funny, military zeal by fascist ideologues isn’t funny at all, Space Force has no institutional reputation or stereotypes that make for easy comic fodder, and who in their right minds would be an actor in that show? (And how on earth did they get Steve Carrell to star in such a thing?)
With these thoughts swirling in my head, in a nihilistic act of resignation to both the tyranny of choice that is Netflix and the depressing politics of 2020, I played the pilot episode of Space Force a couple weeks ago.
It was nothing like I expected or even could have expected. Carrell plays fictional General Mark Naird, head of Space Force, masterfully. He is simultaneously a great leader and an inept fool, a single dad with endless love for his daughter and a badass fighter-pilot-turned-general who openly rejects the toxic masculinity that permeates so many Hollywood depictions of the military.
For all the charms of General Naird, his scientist sidekick Dr. Adrian Mallory (John Malkovich) really steals the show. The bromance between Naird and Mallory is one of three or four relationships in the show that are entertaining in a way that can only be explained by great writing and better on-set chemistry.
Despite the obvious pull writers must have felt to make the show a 10-episode mockery of the president, I thought it did a great job of mocking politics without pulling any punches from either side of the aisle. An early episode Congressional hearing featured a politician the characters refer to as “Angry Young Congresswoman” (A-Yo-C; say it out loud if you’re still confused) and a Representative Pitosi, who push Naird to explain Space Force’s spending on a $10,000 apple. (Those familiar with congressional budget hearings know how realistic this line of questioning really is.) The way Naird and Mallory respond to the questions had me nearly doubled over with laughter and then, a minute later, soberly wiping tears from my eyes.
To summarize: The real Space Force was a terrible idea. Making a fake show about Space Force was an even worse idea, but somehow it was the most comforting, charming, refreshing show I’ve seen in 2020. Give it a try; we could all use some laughter right now.