Plenty of movies include the historic Apollo 11 Moon landing as a cultural touchstone; it’s one of those events like Woodstock or Pearl Harbor that defines a generation and instantly provides viewers with a concrete sense of place and time. Only a few motion pictures, however, actually center on the events that culminated on July 20, 1969 when two men from the Earth actually walked on the Moon.
The Dish (2000) is one of those films. It offers a perspective rather fresh and different from our American films, because this is an Australian production regarding a key component in the mission which happened to be located in Parkes, Australia.
During the Apollo missions data, telemetry and radio signals were collected and relayed to NASA from observatories and radio telescopes all over the world. The radio telescope located in Parkes — the “Dish” of the title — became the primary relay point for the television signals originating from the Moon. It’s up to the small but professional team of scientists running the Dish (Sam Neill, Kevin Harrington and Tom Long), along with the assistance of a NASA official (Patrick Warburton) to ensure that the signal is captured and relayed correctly.
Much of the film depicts what a painstaking and tricky job it was to maintain contact with the spacecraft, which was moving farther and farther away all the time. The human element is all important within the mathematical and mechanical wizardry employed to put people on the Moon, and this is stressed as well, particularly when things go wrong, as they inevitably do. And of course there is a tremendous pride in the accomplishment when Neil Armstrong sets foot on our planetary neighbor.
Yet what makes Rob Sitch’s film truly enjoyable is its delight in the people of Parkes. The four scientists are all admirably portrayed, but so are some of Parkes’ oddball residents, all of whom are affected in some way by the event. Besides the understandable sense of pride that fills the community, there is a gentle spirit of camaraderie and humor that permeates the atmosphere. Whether it’s the nervous mayor introducing his yellow-dressed wife to the U.S. Ambassador (“My wife, May. She’s the lemon.”), the Dish’s security guard asking his sister to not tell their mother he’s got to wear a gun, the local band’s version of the American National Anthem or the constant wisecracking by Harrington as the pragmatist at the Dish, this film’s dialogue and character-driven situations are well-conceived and hilarious.
As a longtime supporter of the space program — I feel that space exploration is one of the most important things we should be doing — I admire this story for its stance that science should be daring. More importantly in this case, I admire this movie because it’s darned entertaining. My rating: ✰ ✰ ✰. (8:2).