Terrestrial

by George Wolf

You notice Steve Pink as the director, and then you glimpse both Craig Robinson and Rob Corddry in the opening minutes, and you’re thinking Terrestrial may be another raunchy comedy with a sci-fi catalyst on the order of Hot Tub Time Machine.

The raunch got left behind, but there’s a decent, darkly comic mystery here that’s rooted in science fiction, fandom, a pack of lies and some good ol’ writer’s block.

Allen (Jermaine Fowler) is a struggling science fiction writer who could be on the verge of something big. He fanboys the sci-fi novels of “The Neptune Files” series, and idolizes their author, SJ Purcell (Brendan Hunt from Ted Lasso). Allen’s devotion carries over to the cheesy Neptune Files TV show, and those fictionalized clips (starring Robinson and Corddry) are cheeky and charming.

The mystery begins when Allen’s college buds (James Morosini, Pauline Chalamet, Edy Modica) visit him at his new L.A. mansion. They’re happy for their old friend’s success, but start to wonder about Allen’s odd behavior and the big paydays that hit before his first book is even finished.

What’s really going on here?

To find out, Pink and screenwriters Connor Diedrich and Samuel Johnson take us back to three months earlier, and the film is instantly elevated by a captivating, self-aware thriller vibe. Fowler’s (Sorry to Bother You, Faces of Death, The Blackening) ability to transmit Allen’s refusal to let his slowly growing panic derail the bigger plan is a frantic delight, and it keeps your interest grounded when events get bloody and more than a little spacey.

Pink effectively juggles the story – and the story within the story – for a solid setup, but Act Three can’t quite deliver on the promise. Pink scripted both Grosse Point Blank and High Fidelity some years back, and this friend reunion could have used more of the cynical bite he brought to those interactions. Terrestrial seems satisfied to ramp up the body count, and crawl across the finish line out of breath.