Astronauts have always seemed so gloriously liberated. They succeed in escaping the gravity of the earth, and, simultaneously, the gravitas of the political preoccupations in their homeland – even if politics is what propelled them into space.
Such was the achievement of Soviet cosmonauts sent on a routine mission to the space station Mir. While their extraterrestrial activities were methodical and predictable, back on Earth their countrymen were playing a funny trick on them. In the time it took Mir to whiz around the planet 47 times, there was a putsch in Moscow – Gorbachev was out, and Yeltsin was in. The cosmonauts blasted off from the Soviet Union and crash-landed in the Russian Republic.
Out of the Present is filmmaker Andrei Ujica’s spare but delightful documentary about this Mir mission. And though he couldn’t have anticipated his original subject would coincide with the collapse of the Soviet Union, Ujica has adroitly managed to encompass both dramas, using elemental effects.
But what’s really marvelous about Out of the Present is the mission crew. They are so, well, human. True, cosmonauts Anatoly Artsebarsky and Sergei Krikalev go about their business with admirable composure: even when the oxygen system fails in Artsebarsky’s suit, he mentions it as an afterthought. But we also glimpse the giddiness behind the scenes, as when Krikalev and a new companion ride atop a metal canister as if it were a horse.
Yet for all his sanguinity, it was a long 10 months in space for Krikalev. When a reporter asks the cosmonaut what he likes best about Earth from "up there," Krikalev replies, "Most of all, what we can’t see from up here: people."
Out of the Present: US$30. Noon Pictures: (800) 343 5540, +1 (212) 254 4118.
This article originally appeared in the September issue of Wired magazine.