In this very moment, and for the last three years of our current administration, American idiocy, political and otherwise, seems so pungently ripe for ridicule. So, when the creators of “The Office” and Steve Carrell announced they were creating a “Space Force” show for Netflix to mock the real-life initiative promoted by the oafish President Donald Trump and his inept White House, the premise and series seemed like a slam dunk that should easily write itself. Unfortunately, “Space Force” is a confusing, frustrating, uninspiring mess that is toothless in its lame, safe attempts at political skewering.
“Space Force,” has all the makings of what should be biting commentary on excessive military spending, the lack of government oversight, and the ridiculous ideas of a loose cannon leader of the free world. Instead, it takes an inoffensive, middle of the road and “both sides” approach. Actor-writer-producer Steve Carell and writer-producer Greg Daniels have turned in a political satire that is afraid to take a stand and present a clear message, ultimately leading to a comedy series that relies on easy, pedestrian jokes and a stretched-thin plot to carry the load. All this to say, “Space Force” is a pointless waste of time that doesn’t have anything witty or insightful to say about America, the embarrassing state it’s in nor the notion of spending billions on a foolhardy effort in space when there are so many goddamn crises burning on our front lawn. It also squanders the talents of a great cast.
“Space Force,” tells the story of General Mark Naird (Carell), a newly promoted military man with a bomb-first, macho idiot mentality and a heart of gold buried under his gruff, alpha exterior. This generally unlikeable grump is given control of the military’s newest branch while also dealing with a wife in prison and a daughter that blames him for relocating his family across the country. Carell is joined by a supporting cast led by John Malkovich as Dr. Adrian Mallory, the head of the science division of Space Force and Naird’s de facto right-hand man. Together, they have to whip their soldiers and scientists into shape and put “boots on the Moon” as directed by an unseen, never-named POTUS. Seemingly too intimidated to embrace the full potential politics of its show, “Space Force” never namedrops Trump, despite the premise plucked from the headlines. God forbid a show like “Space Force” deign to make a political statement despite the entire framework of its premise.
On paper, “Space Force” should be a triumph for all involved. Carell is one of the great comedy actors, and he’s joined by a cast that includes Malkovich, Jimmy O. Yang, Ben Schwartz (the series’ biggest scene-stealer), Don Lake, and Tawny Newsome. Plus, it’s based on a ridiculous idea that has inspired countless memes and jokes (Trump even ripped off “Star Trek” for the logo). So, how does all this talent and an obvious premise miss the target so much? “Space Force” tries to be a satire that doesn’t upset anyone—relying on a collection of lame jokes that wouldn’t make it in an ‘SNL’ skit—and forces in unnecessary subplots that go nowhere and derail the series’ minimal comedic momentum.
Carell’s character often flips characterizations, either playing his four-star general as a war-mongering idiot, a sweet, well-meaning dad, or a military hero that will save the day. The same can be said for the rest of the cast, with the scientists often switching from rational, smart decision-makers to beta nerds that don’t understand girls and sports. As for the Space Force concept itself, viewers are shown how this newest military endeavor is either an incredibly ridiculous vanity project for the POTUS, a revolutionary arm of the government that will progress both science and warfare into the 21st century and beyond, or a collection of misfits that probably shouldn’t run a taco stand, let alone send billions of dollars of equipment and living beings into space. At every turn, “Space Force” chooses “all of the above” instead of daring to take even one stand.
The frustrating part is watching ten episodes of a series with this much talent in front of and behind the camera (Dee Rees and Paul King each direct multiple episodes) and waiting for it to hit its stride. Just when you think “Space Force” is going to establish itself as a middle finger to Trump and his poorly thought out space initiative, the series will put in an explicit proxy for Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (played by Ginger Gonzaga and given the name “AYC” on IMDB) and show the spitfire, liberal congresswoman being put in her place. Or when you’re ready to laugh at the antics of the ragtag group of Space Force rejects, the show confusingly goes off tonal course, stressing to the audience the important magnitude of the work being done. And the worst part is the finale, which finally gives you reasons to care about the characters (thanks in no small part to the charismatic supporting cast) and the outcome, only to pull that rug from under your feet in the final moments.
The ingredients of a great political satire aren’t uninspired jokes that aim for both sides of the aisle, never going far enough to upset either. Instead, there is no sharp point of view. When the series aims its cannons, it panders to the lowest common denominator, striving only for mass popularity and achieving milquetoast status. In truly political terms, on a Democratic Presidential Candidate scale from Bernie Sanders to Joe Biden, “Space Force” is clearly driving the Biden bus. Like Biden, “Space Force” is far better than rightwing propaganda and might adequately pass the time while we wait for a real option. But don’t we deserve far better? [C-]
