Never Surrender: A Galaxy Quest Documentary

It is all too often that these kinds of fan documentaries end up being an unending, uncritical lovefest in which there is essentially no material value provided to the watcher other than to ensconce themselves in the same warm sense of nostalgia that all of the people being interviewed are also experiencing. I’m happy to report that Never Surrender: A Galaxy Quest Documentary is more than just that.

With interviews not just with the cast of Galaxy Quest, absent Alan Rickman who tragically died before the documentary was filmed, but also several producers, the casting director, set designer, representatives of the special effects houses (Stan Winston for practical effects, ILM for digital ones), the composer, editor, screenwriter, and director, Never Surrender actually provides an amazingly in depth look at the process that took a germ of an idea put forward in an unsuccessful “spec” script and turned it into a full blown cult hit. Given the dangers of burning bridges in the industry, these types of projects often fail because no one wants to either say something publicly that insults a part of their professional network, or be seen as the kind of person who tells tales out of school. Never Surrender doesn’t fall into this trap. While certainly many of the anecdotes are mild, the movie’s subjects are surprisingly bold in their willingness to talk about what worked and what didn’t, and why, in the total process of spinning up, shooting, and distributing the movie.

We learn the key ideas that shaped the picture, like taking the captain from someone reluctantly trapped in a role to the only one who was still fired up about his importance to the fandom. We learn about the struggles of switching directors, from the shifts in tone from the more cynical Harold Ramis to the more affectionate Dean Parisot, to the budgetary issues felt by departments like sets and effects. We learn about the creative side’s frustration with the business side at Dreamworks in failing to market to the right audience. We learn about casting, like how hard they found it to get the perfect lead, or that Sigourney Weaver had to advocate for herself for her role because of worries that in a sci-fi movie audiences could only see her as Ripley.

This frankness also helps sell the notion that when the cast speaks in relatively glowing terms about one another, and their time on set, that they aren’t just blowing smoke for the sake of their careers. It also gives us some glimpse into how clashing personalities can create tension on set while producing magic in frame, in particular with Alan Rickman’s dry humor and constant professionalism contrasting with Tim Allen’s affable goofiness and constant on-set clowning. Not that the two ultimately hated each other, but seeing how those contrasting temperaments gelled, or failed to gell, as part of the overall process (as seen through the eyes of their coworkers) is fascinating, especially if you are the kind of person interested in the making of art and the general creative process, as I am.

The film also includes interviews with people outside the film’s production. Some small amount of this is people who found the film and engaged with it on a passionate fan level, such as cosplay and convention attendance. Another small component is cast members of Star Trek: The Next Generation discussing how a spoof of their predecessor affected their work. However, a lot of it is with current Hollywood movers and shakers who consider the movie extremely influential. These include television showrunners Damon Lindelof (Lost, The Leftovers) and Greg Berlanti (Arrow, The Flash), as well as writer/comedian Paul Scheer. This also extended to proxy discussions of its impact, such as Lindelof mentioning J.J. Abrams’ love of the movie as it relates to the modern Star Trek reboot, or when Rainn Wilson referenced it’s likely influence of James Gunn’s direction of Guardians of the Galaxy.

This is another place I have to give the film major credit. It actually helped me understand or see something about its subject that I had never considered before. I have been a fan of Galaxy Quest since I was shown it on DVD maybe a year or two after it was released. I was also a fan of Star Trek, having watched a decent amount of it on what was then the SciFi channel. I was not a card carrying, cosplay wearing superfan, but I liked the show(s). I appreciated Galaxy Quest on the level that it was a sincere and heartfelt part-parody, part-homage to the cheesy science fiction of the 1960s with Star Trek (the original series) chief among them. Never Surrender opened my eyes to the fact that subtly Galaxy Quest is also a love letter to the fans and to fandom in general. Made by, at least in part, genuine fans of those shows and all their low budget weirdness, Galaxy Quest doesn’t shy away from the silliness of early Star Trek while also acknowledging why it was, and is, so popular. And it does this in a way in which the fandom itself is woven into the story. It is aliens that are fans of the show that pull the cast to space to save them and it is human fans of the show that, at the end, help save the day.

I was worried going in that this documentary would be a reminiscence about the making of an unlikely cult hit with lots of self-congratulatory interview segments and not much substance. Instead, it was both a behind the scenes look at the process of getting a film made and an informative look at how the film, and its fan-first mentality, may have represented a hidden sea-change in how fandom is treated in the way studios and filmmakers think about their projects.

Would Recommend: If you are a fan of Galaxy Quest…obviously.

Would Not Recommend: If the whole idea of Galaxy Quest and/or Star Trek makes you want to put someone’s head in a toilet to give them a swirly.