|George and Sandra sharing a bit of bad dialogue.|
Along for the ride is everyone's buddy, George Clooney. He portrays the captain of the mission gone awry in an affable, Houston-we-have-a-problem sort of way. Despite floating around the interstellar nebula permanently installed in a Barcalounger spray-painted Milk of Magnesia white, and with a gigantic tool chest strapped to his chest, Clooney remains nonplussed and downright jovial for the duration. (Spoiler alert: Not that he's around for the duration.) Anyway, the photogenic twosome are engaged in banter and chitchat while on some everyday assignment when a major goof by those damn Russians--who else?--ruins everything and outer space gets broken. Things fall apart. There is floating debris. Houston does not copy. The script worsens.
The 3-D part is pointless as usual, except for one time when Sandra is crying and one of her tears floats into space and you start watching it instead of Sandra working for that Oscar. That's a good moment, offering a needed break; the tear comes at you, growing bigger and bigger. It's all got to do with gravity. And then too. there is the gravity of the situation, which is that Mitch and I shelled out $21 bucks for the experience, not counting the popcorn. To be fair, it's fun to see outer space and rocket ships and all that astronaut jazz up close. It's just sad that you can't turn the sound off.