AMERICAN ASTRONAUT, a feature debut directed by and starring Cory McAbee, is a mish-mash of genres. It's a Western. It's a science fiction mystery. It's a film noir replete with gangsters hiding in shadows, secretly plotting crimes. And it's a rock-and-roll musical featuring fully choreographed dances and limelight singing. Shot in grainy, nearly pitch black black and white, AN AMERICAN ASTRONAUT is a quirky, idiosyncratic, Indie experiment.
After an elaborate introduction shot over a black-and-white illustration of the planets, viewers are introduced to Samuel Curtis (McAbee), our "astronaut," who does an Elvis-style, hip-swooshing dance in silhouette, backed by the moon. Next, after his spaceship crashes on a tiny planet called Ceres, he awakes in the ships interior, which resembles the cigarette-stained interior of a vintage fleabag motel room. After a horrifically drawn out, closeup scene in which Curtis shaves off a thick beard with a very dull razor, shaping fluffy lamb chops and greasing his hair back, he dons his leather space suit and floats down to the local pub, a filthy pit filled with pale, ugly, sickly men. Eventually, Curtis learns about a "real live girl" stored in a box, who could potentially balance out the war of the sexes that stems from the all-female planet of Venus. From there, his true mission becomes clear.
