The Aeronauts: Deflated flight

The Aeronauts (2019) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated PG, for no particular reason
By Derrick Bang

This would have been a suspenseful adventure film in the 1950s or ’60s (allowing for the fact that the special effects technology required to make it, didn’t exist at the time).

Having just left the pomp and circumstance of their departure, scientist James Glaisher
(Eddie Redmayne) marvels at the showboating rowdiness of his aeronaut companion,
Amelia Wren (Felicity Jones).

Unfortunately, styles have changed in the intervening half-century, and director/co-scripter Tom Harper’s relentlessly (ahem) overblown approach feels clumsily retro and needlessly melodramatic. The script, co-written with Jack Thorne, also adds an aura of contrivance: quite unfortunate, as it undercuts the genuine marvel of authentic history.

Although claiming to be “inspired by a true adventure,” this film gives no indication that Eddie Redmayne’s character, James Glaisher, was a genuine 19th century meteorologist, aeronaut and astronomer. That makes his presence alongside Felicity Jones’ fictitious Amelia Wren a bit jarring, even though much of her character is based on earlier 19th century French aeronaut Sophie Blanchard.

(Blanchard died in 1819, when Glaisher was only 10 years old.)

The Aeronauts is set on Sept. 5, 1862, the date of Glaisher’s most famous ascent (actually in the company of fellow British aeronaut Henry Tracey Coxwell, but Jones’ Amelia Wren apparently is more cinematically pleasing). To a degree, the film takes place in real time, as the flight lasted only a couple of hours; Harper and Thorne maintain tension by intercutting this increasingly perilous action with flashbacks that shape our two lead characters, and the events that prompt their unlikely partnership.

James, a young Fellow of the Royal Meteorological Society, firmly believes that weather patterns can be predicted: a notion that his older colleagues find patently absurd. James insists that he can prove his theories by taking atmospheric readings at increasingly high altitudes — higher than anybody else has risen — but nobody is willing to bankroll or collaborate in such an endeavor.

Amelia, meanwhile, is a veteran aeronaut emotionally shattered by a previous flight that concluded tragically; she has withdrawn into a reclusive funk and has no intention of leaving the ground again. Her sister Antonia (Phoebe Fox) drags Amelia to a posh Meteorological Society function, where she meets James and — ultimately — is won over by his passion.

How their subsequent alliance secures financial backing is one of many details left irritatingly vague — ballooning is tremendously expensive, particularly when involving a craft of such immense size — although it seems to involve an investor played fleetingly by Robert Glenister (as Ned Chambers).

Once in the Mammoth’s basket, making their ascent, Redmayne and Jones play classic opposites. James is the formulaic science wonk: forever puttering with altimeters and barometers, and buried in mathematical calculations, oblivious to practical necessities (such as having packed warm clothes). Amelia, despite her mental baggage, is the sensible one: cool, authoritative, and progressively concerned by her companion’s reckless insistence that they go ever higher.

Harper cleverly depicts their progress via occasional overlaid grids that chart height and rate of ascent. There’s a great moment when they enter the first cloud layer, and James reaches out in an impulsive effort to grasp the cloud-stuff, an expression of radiant wonder on Redmayne’s face. A bit later, a similarly magical moment finds them rising through a swarm of migrating butterflies.

By this time, however, they’ve already improbably endured a tempestuous lightning storm that — in the real world — would have tossed them to their deaths. And yet they survive; more miraculously, none of James’ equipment, or the loose notebook in which he records his readings, have blown out of the basket.

At which point, our eyebrows begin to lift.

Suffice it to say, matters become even more perilous once the Mammoth rises above 27,000 feet, where the temperature is only 5 degrees Fahrenheit. And still they ascend…

Let’s just say that Amelia turns out to be one helluva plucky heroine. Credit where due: Jones plays her persuasively, even as circumstances become ever more ludicrous.

These events are depicted quite believably by visual effects supervisor Louis Morin and cinematographer George Steel; the aerial tableaus are frankly jaw-dropping. It’s a tribute to both, that we occasionally wonder how Steel was able to place his camera so high off the ground, in order to capture the Mammoth’s progress.

It’s a shame Harper and Thorne felt it necessary to lard this ascent with so much artificial peril, given the genuine danger present in the actual historical episode. That said, they do incorporate authentic details: Blanchard did stun rapt crowds by dropping parachute-equipped dogs from her basket, and setting off fireworks dangerously close to her hydrogen-filled balloon; and Glaisher did get into serious trouble during his famous ascent.

It’s fun to see Redmayne and Jones reunited, after their memorable pairing in 2014’s The Theory of Everything. Their shared dynamic is engaging and movie-star-palpable; Redmayne’s shy, uncertain smile is complemented sweetly by Jones’ enthusiastic radiance. And because this saga takes place in such a brief period of time, Harper and Thorne wisely refrain from any hint of romantic involvement … although (of course) these two characters do come to respect each others’ strengths and weaknesses.

Tom Courtenay has a touching supporting role as James’ father, a London watchmaker who succumbs to the onset of dementia while his son prepares for the flight; Anne Reid is solid as his wife. Himesh Patel is engaging in an under-developed role as James’ Society colleague and best friend, John Trew; it would have been nice to spend more time with him.

Young Lewin Lloyd, recognized from television’s His Dark Materials, has a bewildering role as a little boy enchanted by the Mammoth (for the record, 80 feet tall and 55 feet wide, measuring 93,000 cubic feet). His character serves absolutely no purpose.

Although this film obtained only fleeting theatrical release before being made available solely via Amazon Prime’s streaming service — a wise financial move, I’m sure — it’s a shame in one respect. The Aeronauts was made to be seen on the largest possible screen, to properly showcase its many stunning sequences (and perhaps distract us from some of the script’s contrivances). The impact simply won’t be the same at home.