First Man (2019) Review

"Your dad's going to the moon."

"Okay. Can I go outside?"

If you appreciate a good tactile click-flip of a toggle switch, or the nice snap of a neck ring sealing shut, buddy, have I got a film for you.

The sound design commands the heights, from the musical score to the wails of alarms to the sudden screeching of metal flung into to the furies of the Earth's atmosphere, to the foggy inhales of a man exposed to crushing g-forces.

Anytime the movie slides into a cramped rocket cockpit, it's thrillingly tense. But it smartly modulates the pressure with the melancholic Americana of a man of a certain age and time who is intrinsically unable to talk about- barely even able to contemplate- loss, even as more and more of it piles onto him as he ages.