What is filmmaking but an attempt to capture human experience in a way that simple language cannot? When one thinks about it, films are the ultimate attempt to solve that, “You just had to be there to understand” dilemma. That’s what sets filmmaking apart from other art-forms, the visual retelling of feelings and stories that we all can empathize with, sympathize with, or ethereally understand. But what of a film that attempts to tell the story of those who do not share our communal view? What if a film attempts to move beyond, “Well you know what I mean,” and into a sincere attempt to paint a tapestry of a world most of us can’t accept or, at the very least, understand? Spaceship, the latest by filmmaker Alex Taylor, is just such a film.
Seemingly based on his short documentary of the same title, Spaceship is the story of a group of teens who see the world in a way that could be described as abstract, but is probably more aptly defined as magical. In this world, alien abduction is normal, unicorns are standard, and vampires are a fact of life. This is submitted as basic truth within the first few frames of the film.
One of our protagonists, Lucidia, begins the film with a narration describing her mother’s death as her escape to another realm when most of use would call it a simple suicide. This is their world, nothing is as the majority of us assume it to be. There are aliens among us, there are different realms to visit, and there is levels to our existence.
While this all seems obtuse and disjointed, and for the most part it is, it is such for a very distinct purpose. Taylor and the film want us to be disjointed and off kilter because that is the visual representation of the uncertainty of life we all mire through at some point. At its core, Spaceship is about the search for meaning, about the sometimes underwhelming purpose of being alive and the search for more.
This search is not limited to the teens in the film though, the adults are equally lost and searching for larger purpose as well. One could argue the adult characters are sadder and more morose than their teen counterparts, but they are still searching nonetheless. Every character has a seemingly aimless arc in the film, but that is to convey the trajectory of life. In the end, the characters all seem to find that purpose they are searching for but in an aggravatingly obtuse and abstract way, as in life.
This visual-heavy narration through this dense outsider-view of life and spirituality is both what makes Spaceship charming and unique, but it is also what makes the film so exasperating. The filmmakers obviously intended the experience of Spaceship to be a floating and metaphysical one, but that makes it’s running time especially trying. The film parallels the aggravation and desperation of the characters within it, but without a bit more structure the film tends to spiral into something that is hard to hold on to narratively. So in that sense, Spaceship is a success and also a bit of a misstep. Taylor has definitely achieved that visual power that film has to offer, but his dedication to the mystical portrayal of the content may have limited the effect of the film itself.
