There’s one piece of masculinity that the movie misses. This missing piece I think is the key to why the movie has flown under the radar for so long: a compelling purpose. Men long for a compelling goal and purpose for their life which justifies sacrificing themselves, whether it’s their God, their country, or their family. First Man puts the question “Is this mission worth it?” front and center, with politicians, reporters, and activists asking the question “is the mission worth it, in money and in lives?” So it’s not a question they ignore in the story. The problem is their answer.

This great guest post by New York filmmaker Joseph Holmes is a look at the film First Man, a biopic about Neil Armstrong, the first man to walk on the moon. It’s a film that’s seen a revival of interest as a positive portrayal of classic masculinity. I’ve been thinking of adding more cultural coverage like this to my newsletter, so please let me know what you think – Aaron.

The movie First Man has gone through a minor revival of interest lately. Both with film enthusiasts on X and–more interestingly–in conservative and pro-masculinity circles. Conservative commentator Matt Walsh called it “perhaps the best biopic ever made” and Lomez called it a great film “about masculinity, and the costs and requirements of great civilizational achievement”. The consensus is that it promotes a positive view of traditional masculinity that we rarely see in a post-Barbie landscape.

The revival of interest in the movie is well-deserved. The film is deeply underrated, and there is a lot to recommend it to those who are interested in great filmmaking and traditional masculinity. But there is also a good reason it didn’t generate this level of enthusiasm when it first came out.

Directed by Oscar-winner Damien Chazelle (La La Land), First Man follows the true-life story of Neil Armstrong (Ryan Gosling), the first man to set foot on the moon, in 1960s America as he and NASA risk death and disgrace to try to put a man on the moon before the Soviets do. He must do this while trying to repair his relationship with his wife Janet (Claire Foy), which has struggled since the loss of their daughter.

First Man is undeniably a stunning piece of filmmaking. Damien Chazelle is one of the best technical directors working today, having the mastery of the craft to capture a perfectly choreographed musical (La La Land) and the chaos of Hollywood debauchery (Babylon). Here, he deftly balances a grounded human drama with a quiet epic scale that puts you in the shoes of the first people to cross the lunar threshold. He seamlessly switches between wide shots of giant spacecrafts and the vast reaches of space with tights and mediums on Neil’s face and his family, making us feel like these tiny normal people inside this big experience. 

Ryan Gosling gives one of his finest performances as he puts us deeply in the feelings of a man who doesn’t like to show his feelings. The brilliance is in that the more overwhelmed he is emotionally, the less he shows. Chazelle guides our interpretation of his inner life in these moments as well, giving us a wide view of Armstrong alone, or holding tight on his face to show how his emotions are shutting him out from other people.

What stands out when you watch the film today is its affirming portrayal of many traditionally masculine traits. Neil Armstrong is a “traditional man” in almost every sense of the word. He’s the breadwinner for his stay-at-home wife and kids. He risks his life with his male colleagues to beat the Soviets to the moon. He’s an engineer far more comfortable with numbers and machines than people. When he’s overwhelmed, he rushes to work rather than talk about what’s troubling him–even when his wife or friends are pushing him to talk.

And yet, unlike Ryan Gosling’s more recent role as Ken in Barbie, these parts of his character are not deconstructed. His role as the provider or his wife’s as a homemaker is never questioned. His engineering skills save his and his friends’ lives when their ship malfunctions in space. When Janet Armstrong admits to her friend she wishes her husband took fewer risks, her friend tells her that her friends with safe husbands are unhappy. Neil works through the death of his daughter by achieving his goal of going to the moon––not by opening up about his feelings. His success silences the voices–from the media, journalists, politicians, protestors, and his friends–who say the journey to the moon isn’t worth the cost.

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