As more and more movies seem to be returning to the past as a means to avoid how conflict-free a script can become thanks to modern technology, Fly Me to the Moon is among the latest to join the ranks of recent “period pieces”—which, technically, even extends to a movie like Longlegs. The Rose Gilroy-written film goes slightly further back than the latter though, taking audiences to 1969, in the months leading up to the hype and anticipation of surrounding the moon landing.
In Gilroy’s narrative (directed by Greg Berlanti), all the buildup and excitement are a result of Kelly Jones’ (Scarlett Johansson) sudden involvement, tapped by a shadowy government operative named Moe Berkus (Woody Harrelson) to work the previously nonexistent “PR angle” of the project. After all, the U.S. was in a dark time (as usual), with constantly-playing, harrowing images from the Vietnam War on the news, in addition to the rash of assassinations and protests turned violent by police subjugation.
It’s with this in mind that Jones, a “shark” of an ad agency “man,” views the moon landing as an opportunity to refocus the public’s attention on something more positive. To see, once again, the “promise” of America and its potential (sort of like Beyoncé with her Olympics commercial). Not to mention reminding various Congress members that there was once a time when John F. Kennedy’s “greatest wish” (apart from fucking as many women as possible) was also theirs—as opposed to a bane to their other, more pressing budgetary concerns. Of course, it’s easy to support a lofty goal when it’s hot off the presses of relating to a collective American fear: “losing” to the Russians (a.k.a. letting communists dominate the Space Race). A peak concern (not that it still isn’t) during this period in U.S. history, when the Cold War incited manifold actions that were often dubious in nature.
As for Kelly, she’s been described as a Don Draper type (call her Don Draper with a pussy instead of a pair) mixed with a dash of Frank Abagnale Jr. (as rendered by Leonardo DiCaprio in Catch Me If You Can). Gilroy (who, yes, is related to the writer Gilroys, Dan [her father], Tony [her uncle] and Frank D. [her grandfather]—in addition to being the daughter of Rene Russo) herself told The Hollywood Reporter, “Don Draper was absolutely a part of the conversation. Leo’s character in Catch Me If You Can was another character in the conversation. So Don Draper was totally an inspiration, and that scene of Kelly with the belly was actually in the first fifteen pages that I wrote on spec to win the job.”
Kelly’s inherent conning abilities aren’t entirely her fault, of course. In addition to the expected traumatic backstory, being a woman with ambition at that time meant having to play a bit of “hardball” (or “give ’em blue balls,” in her case). In short, acting the way men do all the time, but with far more subtlety about it. Well, sort of.
If you asked Cole Davis (Channing Tatum), the launch director for Apollo 11 at Kennedy Space Center, he wouldn’t say Kelly was subtle at all. In fact, he’d probably say she was about as subtle as a rocket launch. But before he finds out that she’s the “PR girl” from New York, Kelly very nearly launches his rocket when they first meet at Wolfie’s Restaurant—an institution on the Cocoa Beach scene. The two have a quintessential meet-cute (befitting of the era that Fly Me to the Moon is set in) involving Kelly setting her notebook on fire without being aware of it.
Because the two already shared a flirtatious glance, when Cole approaches to tell her, “Uh, Miss, you’re on fire,” she replies, “Very original. No, I do not wanna stop, drop and roll with you.” But of course she does. And Cole himself makes no secret about being attracted to her, confessing as much before saying that despite this, he can’t pursue such feelings. He then leaves Wolfie’s, assuming he’ll never run into her again. Naturally, what makes a complete, truly effective meet-cute is a case of mistaken or unknown identity. Hence, when Kelly walks into Kennedy Space Center soon after their initial meeting, Cole is suddenly much less charmed (even though one can imagine Kelly wielding the Gracie Hart [Sandra Bullock] taunt, “You think I’m gorgeous, you want to kiss me, you want to hug me”).
With the crux of the film’s “chutzpah” coming from the way they increasingly butt heads, by the end of the second act, that shtick gives way to a different “problem” angle for the film: Moe tasks Kelly with creating a fake version of the moon landing (and yes, Stanley Kubrick is alluded to as a potential director) in case things don’t quite work out with the real deal (a faulty transmission, etc.). Obviously, this is only going to contribute to the pile of lies she’s told to Cole, therefore making it even harder for him to accept her when the truth comes out (sort of like Josie Geller [Drew Barrymore] with Sam Coulson [Michael Vartan] in Never Been Kissed).
Eventually, her conscience gets the better of her, and she decides to confess what’s going on to Cole after she’s already gotten a diva-rific director, Lance Vespertine (Jim Rash), from her former agency to create the footage. The reaction is as expected, with the usual third-act waiting period for Cole to finally come around. But Fly Me to the Moon, in the end, isn’t as much about a budding romance between two people as it is about America’s budding romance with conspiracy theories in the modern era. Particularly as the Nixon administration would go on to prove that mistrust in institutions ought to be the norm, not the exception. A conviction that’s only become more fortified in the decades since Watergate.
Fly Me to the Moon offers a “light-hearted romp” with a conspiracy theory-related narrative as the backdrop, but, more often than not, it’s pretty much impossible to make light of the behaviors that stem from staunch conspiracy theorists (see: Pizzagate, the 2020 election was “stolen” and anything else related to QAnon). In this regard, Fly Me to the Moon truly does feel like a 60s-era film in that it gives the viewer enough credit to assume they’ll have a sense of humor about this sort of thing rather than taking it all too seriously.
