The Spacewalker (2017)

The Spacewalker makes the Space Race feel newly alive by treating it not as a victory lap of history, but as a white-knuckle leap into the unknown where bravery and improvisation matter as much as engineering. Dmitry Kiselev stages the mission with muscular suspense and striking, tactile cinematography—cold metal, cramped quarters, and the vast indifference outside the capsule—while the effects serve the tension rather than showing off. At its heart, it’s a character-driven drama about two very different men forced into absolute trust, and the Russian perspective gives the familiar era a fresh, human immediacy. If you prefer your historical films light or your thrillers uncomplicated, this may feel intense and procedural, but if you want a gripping true-story adventure that earns its awe, it’s hard to shake.

The Spacewalker is clearly trying to deliver a big, patriotic, white-knuckle survival story about the first spacewalk, and when it sticks to the mission mechanics and escalating malfunctions, it’s genuinely tense and impressive. The problem is it keeps interrupting that momentum with sentimental flashbacks and familiar “great men under pressure” beats that can feel like padding rather than insight. If you want a lean, procedural space thriller in the vein of Apollo 13, you may find this one a bit indulgent and formula-driven. Still, the central performances are solid and the in-capsule peril is strong enough that history and space-race fans will likely get their money’s worth.