In space, no one can hear your stoic masculinity

When we talk about masculinity these days, it’s usually about the toxic variety. And we should, since there’s plenty that needs to be discussed, whether it be #MeToo, gender inequality, Gamergate, incels, garden-variety sexism and misogyny, or whatever other forms toxic masculinity may take. But there is another form of masculinity — the quiet, stoic, distant, emotionless kind — that gets much less attention for obvious reasons. It’s the kind of masculinity where a father doesn’t yell at his wife and children, but instead doesn’t have anything to say to them. It’s the kind of masculinity where a man, after coming home from his job, disappears into himself, his hobbies, alcohol, or his favorite sports teams as much as he is allowed to. It’s the kind of masculinity where a man is so focused on what it means to “be a man” that he loses touch with what it means to be a human.

While the trailers for Ad Astra depict the film as a space action/adventure about an astronaut trying to rescue his father who is lost in deep space, the film’s true subject is this quiet, largely unspoken masculinity, with space serving not so much as a location as a metaphor, much as it did in 2014’s Interstellar and a seemingly increasing number of space movies. And Brad Pitt is, in my opinion, uniquely suited to embody this subject. Watch the trailer for Ad Astra below.

Set in the near future, Pitt plays astronaut Roy McBride, who is best known for his preternatural ability to keep his cool (his heartrate has never exceeded 80 BPM during his space career) as well as his famous lineage. His father Clifford (Tommy Lee Jones) is the most celebrated astronaut who ever lived, a world-renowned hero who disappeared 30 years prior during a secretive mission to Neptune. After it is revealed to Roy that his father may somehow be alive and possibly responsible for disruptive, deadly power surges bombarding Earth and other planets in the solar system, Roy is sent first to the Moon to try to communicate with his father, then to Neptune to retrieve or neutralize Clifford to prevent more surges. Along the way, Roy must handle the challenges of space travel in the not-too-distant-future, including its inherent dangers; the tensions between corporate, military, and governmental organizations and who gets to know what; or the Wild West lawlessness of the Moon where various groups are competing for their chunks of the borderless new frontier.

In that sense, Ad Astra is more like a road movie with the possibility of a father/son reunification as its destination. But while this is a sometimes harrowing journey that requires years traversing billions of miles of hostile space, the main focus of the film is Roy’s internal journey to figure out who he has become both because of and in spite of his father, and whether he can reconcile his feelings towards a man who willingly and publicly abandoned his family to search for extraterrestrial life. In that sense, the physical distance Roy must travel is an effective symbol for the emotional distance Roy is attempting to bridge with his father, a distance that already existed when Clifford was still on Earth and placing his work before family. As we hear in Roy’s voice-over narration, the only emotion Roy seems to be in touch with is the anger he feels towards his father, which Roy has also managed to squash down so he can perform a job where he has been “trained to compartmentalize” in order to maintain mission focus.

The problem with doing this is that if you spend years stifling and denying your emotions, you can eventually stop having them altogether, which is obviously a problem for Roy’s wife Eve (Liv Tyler) who is finding it increasingly difficult to handle both Roy’s long deployments as well as his lack of presence and emotion when he is next to her. What’s even more likely is that those suppressed emotions — particularly anger — will mutate and metastasize in their dark corners until they infect other areas of life or explode uncontrollably. While the main hallmarks of quiet masculinity are its silent stoicism and lack of emotion, those often exist as attempts to hide or look past a glowing ember of rage that might be rooted in resentment for past mistreatment, sadness for dreams left unfulfilled, feelings of powerlessness, or a sense that one has been denied what they feel entitled to. It’s no wonder that so many mass shootings are committed by male “quiet loners” whose anger and frustration at a world they feel owes them a better life makes them willing followers of conservative rage merchants who are happy to provide a long list of scapegoats (Jews, liberals, women, immigrants, “PC culture”, the media, Muslims, etc.).

And what makes Pitt such a perfect match for this role? In a recent profile in the New York Times, Pitt describes growing up in Springfield, Missouri (quiet masculinity seems to thrive in the Midwest) with “that be-capable, be-strong, don’t-show-weakness thing” and a father who “came from that stoic ilk.” While Pitt credits this for his humility and work ethic, it also contributed to him being closed off from himself and his emotions. This seemingly came to a head when his marriage to Angelina Jolie fell apart in 2016, allegedly due in part to Pitt’s problems with alcohol — a common refuge and outlet for men who have difficulty accessing their feelings — which was also right around when he signed on for Ad Astra. During a year and a half in Alcoholics Anonymous, with much of his family life in shambles, Pitt was able to find solace and learn about vulnerability in an all-male recovery group where he experienced “all these men sitting around being open and honest in a way I have never heard”. As the real-life Pitt was beginning to examine his quietly stoic, emotionally-distant upbringing while learning how to be open and vulnerable with his feelings of grief, anger, loss, and regret, he was developing a character struggling with those same things, but in space.

Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt in ‘Once Upon A Time In Hollywood’

To be sure, the summer of 2019 has been an interesting time for Pitt and his portrayals of quiet masculinity. A few months ago, Pitt put in an Oscar-worthy performance in Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon A Time In Hollywood playing Cliff Booth, the best friend, stuntman, and personal assistant to actor Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio). Cliff, another Midwesterner, is a guy from the same generation as Pitt’s father with the same regional and generational penchant for stoicness, hard work, being capable (whether it’s fighting Bruce Lee or setting up a TV antenna), and keeping his emotions to himself.

While Roy and Cliff seem to be cut from the same cloth, it almost feels like Cliff is what Roy might be like a few years down the road if Roy could put his anger towards his father behind him, relax, and maybe move to Southern California. As Tarantino has explained, Cliff’s backstory is that he was a Green Beret in World War II, someone who has actually killed people and been exposed to the darkest aspects of human nature, which explains Cliff’s unflappability and quiet confidence that he can handle even the most dangerous situations, including being attacked by the Manson family. But having survived a horrific war, Cliff is now happy to put those experiences behind him, enjoy life driving around a sunny paradise with his awesome dog, and commit himself to being the best, most loyal, most helpful friend he can be to Rick, who clearly needs the support. Instead of Roy’s masculinity becoming toxic and unapproachable, it could, with some time and perspective, mellow him and allow him to experience the joys of friendship and gratitude (and an occasional LSD-soaked cigarette) as it has with Cliff.

And who knows? If Roy makes it back from outer space, perhaps he could unwind enough to trade in his moon boots for something more comfortable. Moccasins, perhaps?

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