Whether it be Georges Méliès’ A Trip to the Moon (1902) or Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), the cinematic form has routinely found itself drawn to the cold, lifeless expanse of outer space. It’s endless mysteries and wonders, naturally lending themselves to an assortment of visual riches, both cartoonishly exaggerated or breathtakingly lifelike. In that regard, Phil Lord and Christopher Miller’s Project Hail Mary confidently carries the torch, beaming onto the screen as a phantasmagoria of penetrating light and colour that defiantly marries brutal realism with outlandish spectacle.

As such, Lord and Miller cement a cinematic approach that melds a panoply of various, diverse sci-fi visions into one awe-inspiring whole. Though what launches the film to the peak of popcorn sci-fi is not its commitment to aesthetic splendour, but the emotions underpinning it. In the vein of its title, Project Hail Mary is more vested in the Herculean task of making its character dynamics feel as epic and enveloping as its far-flung space vision. The result is an emotional, expansive celestial odyssey that doubles as the ultimate buddy movie—despite one half of the pair lacking a face entirely.

Ryan Gosling stars as Ryland Grace, an astronaut who awakens from a coma to find all his crew members dead and with no memory of his mission. As he slowly recalls his past, Grace remembers the earth’s doomed fate: a microorganism, dubbed the “Astrophage,” slowly dimming the sun and triggering catastrophic global cooling within thirty years.

As he ventures to Tau Ceti in hopes of finding a cure, he encounters an alien spacecraft, manned by a five-legged, rock-like extraterrestrial whom he names “Rocky” (James Ortiz), whose planet is also in danger. The two overcome their trepidations and communication barriers to  work together and save their species, fostering an impenetrable bond in the process.

As Project Hail Mary assumes a flashback structure that, in most cases, would be momentum-halting, screenwriter Drew Goddard finds narrative thrust. The present comes to inform the past (and vice versa) in a looping, contorting tale that finds catharsis and satisfaction in repeatedly switching gears—fostering revelations that recontextualize and deepen arcs that threaten to grow stagnant.

Despite a beefy, 156-minute runtime, Lord and Miller’s film remains undeniably breezy, as epic, enthralling space imagery seamlessly gives way to quick-cutting, screwball comedy that filters into palpably intense action set-pieces. In skilfully nestling a myriad of sights, sounds, and tones, Project Hail Mary finds spell-binding bravura in its most frenetic, goosebump inducing sequences, as well as its devastatingly intimate moments. Both of which brim with dazzling camerawork, that sees the lens effortlessly spin, glide, and remain deathlessly still through rattling spaceships or the odd karaoke party.

The enrapturing effect lies in the film’s deft human touch and sheer commitment to character. The hilarious and heartfelt Gosling goes stratospheric with his innate charisma, shining as the brightest star in the cosmos but the true sleight of hand lies in how much emotion and texture the film draws from the faceless Rocky. As the duo earnestly grow from apprehensive allies, to roommates, to best friends, the alien threatens to become as expressive and spirited as its human counterparts.

While parts of Project Hail Mary defy its own loose logic, hinging on revelations that can feel sudden or undercooked, Lord and Miller conjure a rare blockbuster that, in its gargantuan, kaleidoscopic scope, finds wonder and beauty in the most unassuming corners of human connection.

Project Hail Mary releases March 19th.