Fly Me to the Moon

Unlike the precision engineering behind Apollo 11, the comedy Fly Me to the Moon is a patchwork of mismatched parts that rarely gets off the ground.

This throwback screwball romance set against the backdrop of the 1969 moon landing benefits from an endearing chemistry between its leads, plus an offbeat approach to revisionist history and conspiracy theories. Yet in the second half, the film struggles to escalate the dramatic stakes to match the significance of its true-life subject matter.

In 1969, Cole (Channing Tatum) is a NASA launch director in Florida scrambling to prepare for the upcoming Apollo 11 mission in conjunction with his flight manager (Ray Romano). Not only are the sociopolitical ramifications high, but Cole is still burdened by guilt from a past mission tragedy.

The last thing he needs is interference from Kelly (Scarlett Johansson), a feisty firecracker of a marketing executive hired by NASA to boost the agency’s image amid a space-race rivalry with the Russians.

Kelly doesn’t let the truth get in the way of a good sales pitch, using chicanery to whip the American public into a patriotic fervor. However, she might hit her breaking point after accepting an offer from a government operative (Woody Harrelson) to stage a fake moon landing as a safety net.

As Kelly and Cole become drawn to one another personally, both also realize they must set aside their professional differences for the common good. But will Kelly’s secret spoil everything?

As directed by Greg Berlanti (Love, Simon), the film’s stylish production design playfully evokes the period, effectively tweaking historical facts for laughs.

Johansson and Tatum are charming when they share the screen, and the film is best when it remains focused on navigating their reluctant codependence. From the moment sparks fly during their amusing meet-cute in a diner, the film coasts on their breezy adversarial attraction, even if there’s not much emotional depth or moral complexity beneath the surface silliness.

Rookie screenwriter Rose Gilroy’s rapid-fire banter produces some zingers when swinging at broad targets — stuffy politicians, vintage cars, oppressive gender politics — but the characters and their relationship evolve in predictable fashion while the scheme becomes more complicated.

Despite a clever final twist, Fly Me to the Moon lacks coherence and conviction when it tries to be most ambitious. It’s a breezy trifle rather than a giant leap.

Rated PG-13, 132 minutes.