Grade: B

In 1968 Stanley Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey” premiered, offering a portrait of space travel that envisioned spacious, fastidiously made vehicles transporting their human occupants beyond the hold of earth in slow, smooth, perfectly calibrated motion. The following year came the NASA moon landing, which Damien Chazelle now recreates in his biographical drama about Neil Armstrong, the astronaut who set foot first on the lunar surface. And one of the major points of “First Man” is apparently to show how different the reality was from Kubrick’s beautiful, austere visuals.

So the feel of the machinery in the picture, beginning with the experimental plane Armstrong pilots dangerously high in the early sixties and proceeding through the various missions that culminated in the moon landing, is of devices cobbled together out of sheer imagination and desperate hope as well as technical wizardry. The craft develop over time, but they remain cramped, shaky and rickety—a reality accentuated by Chazelle’s decision to shoot much of the action from the claustrophobic perspective of Armstrong: even the face-on images of the helmeted astronaut, while similar in composition to Kubrick’s, are kept close-in and jerky by cinematographer Linus Sandgren. One definitely gets a sense of how primitive the equipment actually was, and—as accidents that are staged here with grim economy, or alluded to as happening off-screen demonstrate—how dangerous.

In another way, however, “First Man” is more like “2001.” Just as Kubrick’s Bowman and Poole are impassive characters, so is Armstrong (Ryan Gosling)—at least on the surface. It’s not that he doesn’t feel things deeply; indeed, the first section of the film is largely devoted to the devastating effect the death of his young daughter had on him, and later on he will experience occasional flashes in which she suddenly appears to him.

But Armstrong buries the pain beneath an exterior that appears almost preternaturally unruffled and brusque. It’s a quality that—along with his self-control under pressure and his superb skills as a pilot and an engineer—places him high among the squad of early astronauts in the estimation of NASA officials (played by the likes of Kyle Chandler as Deke Slayton and Ciarán Hinds as Robert Gilruth) and distinguishes him from more extroverted colleagues—and rivals—such as Ed White (Jason Clarke), Buzz Aldrin (Corey Stoll), Gus Grissom (Shea Whigham) and Elliot See (Patrick Fugit). But his rigidity sometimes distresses his supportive wife Jan (Claire Foy), especially when it leads him to be less than honest and forthcoming with their sons about the dangers his missions pose.

There will be those who find the film disappointing for a variety of reason, most of them misplaced. On the one hand, they may object to the rinky-dink, seat-of-their-pants characterization of the entire sixties space program; “Hidden Figures” made a similar point, but cloaked the message in an uplifting tale of its major protagonist and the triumphalism of the outcome. Chazelle, on the other hand, emphasizes the chaotic desperation of the whole endeavor without apology. Of course that makes the accomplishment more, not less, impressive, but critics may not appreciate that.

More specifically, “First Man” has been attacked by politicians looking to score points for failing to include a shot of Armstrong planting the American flag on the lunar surface, although it’s clearly visible in scenes of the astronauts working on the moon. It’s a phony issue, not unlike the one raised when “Superman Returns” didn’t add the words “and the American Way” to the usual formulation of “Truth, Justice…” The point appears to be that unless one embraces the most extreme jingoism, you’re devoid of patriotism.

Apart from such matters, the main problem some will have with “First Man” is the character of Armstrong himself. The portrait is an accurate one—he was a difficult man who held in his emotions in check and often appeared not just inscrutable, but quietly hostile. Gosling presents him that way, in a highly controlled turn that suggests the strain bubbling beneath the surface without ever allowing it to break out. It’s a finely tuned performance that will nonetheless be too low-key for some of the actor’s fans, and does put him at something of an emotional remove from the audience. Foy’s turn is equally nuanced, but Jan is a far more demonstrative person than her husband, and the actress captures her fierce protectiveness—of Neil and their boys—well. The remainder of the cast is more functional, but all are fine, with Clarke and Stoll standing out, the former for expressing White’s stalwart professionalism and the latter for capturing Aldrin’s cocky, abrasive personality.

The technical crew—Sandgren, production designer Nathan Crowley, costumer Mary Zophres, editor Tom Cross and the visual effects team supervised by Paul Lambert—have done expert work in realizing Chazelle’s vision. Even in the non-NASA scenes, this is not a beautiful picture; visually it reflects a decade not particularly known for its loveliness, the period detail unobtrusively right without exaggeration, and even the Armstrong home scenes have a rather dark, gritty look.

Chazelle’s film is an ambitious if uneven attempt to do justice to both an American space triumph and the complex man at the center of it. It aspires to a greatness it does not achieve, but like NASA’s efforts of the sixties, the reach is itself admirable.

Grade: B

If you were taken with the first “Deadpool,” rest assured that the sequel will not disappoint: it offers more of the same—much more. A wild, non-stop avalanche of snarky humor and grossly comic violence, replete with throwaway pop culture references, the overstuffed “Deadpool 2” will appeal especially to fanboy types, but even those who haven’t picked up a comic book in decades may eventually be battered into submission by the barrage served up by scripters Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick (with an assist from star Ryan Reynolds) and director David Leitch. There are things in it that don’t work as well as they did the first time around—the goofily self-deprecatory opening credits, for example, which now feel like a tired retread—but overall it’s an improvement on its predecessor, even if it remains a patently obvious effort to adhere to the template of the superhero genre while pretending to subvert it.

In the first act Deadpool, the super-cocky alter-ego of Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds), dies. Of course since he’s subject to automatic rejuvenation as a result of the scientific experiment that also left him terribly scarred, his death can’t be permanent, but it does allow him to explain his suicidal impulses by casting back his memory a few weeks to a time when he was happily ensconced with his lovely fiancée Vanessa (Morena Baccarin) and keeping busy by wiping out a gang of mobsters. Unfortunately, that mission led to tragedy that ended his desire to live, though his friend Colossus (Stefan Kapičić), who’s also trying to recruit him for the X-Men squad, tries to revive his perverted sense of mission.

Finally Deadpool agrees to become an X-Man trainee, but in his very assignment he proves insubordinate, siding with Russell (Julian Dennison), a chubby young mutant rebelling against abusive treatment in his orphanage by using his inflammatory powers (he calls himself “Firefist”), against the institution’s director (Eddie Marsan). As a result Wade and Russell are clamped into prison, where. Rendered helpless by power-cancelling necklaces, they find themselves in danger from hostile inmates.

That threat proves negligible, however, beside the one posed by Cable (Josh Brolin, who has become, on the evidence of “Infinity War” and now this, the go-to guy for superhero villains), a time=travelling hunk who arrives, like the Terminator, to eradicate Russell for some as-yet unexplained reason. Wilson does battle with him, escapes in the process, and along with his bartender pal Weasel (T.J. Miller, who may be unavailable for publicity purposes because of his real-life legal problems but is still pretty funny), recruits a team of his own that he names X-Force to rescue the boy. After an amusing interview he selects Domino (Zazie Beetz), Shatterstar (Lewis Tan), Zeitgeist (Bill Skarsgård), Bedlam (Terry Crews), Vanisher (Brad Pitt. We’re told) and a simple schlub named Peter (Rob Delaney). Their initial attempt does not go well, and unleashes the brutal Juggnaut as another antagonist. In the final reel Colossus will also reenter the fray, along with his colleague Megasonic Teenage Warhead (Brianna Hildebrand) and her girlfriend Yukio (Shioli Kutsuna).

Saying much more than this about the plot would spoil things for audiences who come to the picture blissfully ignorant of the details, so suffice it to say that the twists bring with them loads of snappy patter (a lot of it composed of groaners, but they’re often accompanied by self-knowing winks, and they’re often followed by a remark that hits the target, even if in a juvenile way) as well as an equal amount of bloodshed, though all of it is supposed to be humorously over-the-top (and in a sequence focusing on X-Force, it certainly is that, even borrowing from “Fargo”). Reynolds delivers it all in that conceited frat-boy style he’s made his own, and Brolin adds heft as Cable. Among the other players Dennison, who was so charming in “Hunt for the Wilderpeople,” holds his own, and Beetz is certainly an asset. Nobody else matters much; even Leslie Uggams, who repeats as Blind Al, has little to do, though Marsan brings his usual sliminess to his role. There are a number of cameos by some of the X-Men that will please those in the know; a reference to another superhero in the last of a series of post-credits clips provides the biggest laugh in the movie, so you’re advised to stick around for it.

Unfortunately, the screenplay occasionally tries to add some serious underpinnings to the mix, and it’s here that things turn flat. Both Deadpool and Cable, you see, have emotional burdens to carry, and whenever they’re laid on too heavily, the picture loses its spark. Happily it always recovers quickly, but suffers some damage in the process. Technically all is well, though admittedly when the movie is one long riff on the genre you’re likely to be a bit more tolerant of any minor glitches in effects and cinematography (the latter by Jonathan Sela), which you might assume are planned rather than accidental. A trio of editors—Craig Alpert, Elisabet Ronaldsdóttir and Dirk Westervelt—keep the action moving at a good clip, bringing the movie in under two hours. And Tyler Bates’s score is less annoying than is usual in superhero flicks.

“Deadpool 2” can’t match the surprise quotient of the first movie, of course, but by providing more of the same it should satisfy fans and maybe win a few more converts.

More important for Fox, it also provides ample opportunity for further installments.