There are people who believe and promote that the Earth is flat—that astronomy textbooks and NASA are lying to us. The author of Discworld would laugh hysterically at such a claim, and so would Galileo, even Columbus.
There’s a joke I’ll share (hoping not to break any rules):
"Chickens preserved the genetic memory of when they could fly. So they knew there was corn in America... They did everything possible to send humans here... First the Vikings (who took a wrong turn), then Pacific Islanders (who only made it to Easter Island), the Egyptians, and finally the Navigator [Columbus]... That’s why there’s a chicken etched into the Nazca Lines...
#alien-chickens
Follow me for more theories a flat-earther would believe."
Today’s Comedians Master Equal Subtlety
Some modern "vintage-style" comedies dive into controversies fueled by the prejudice that "the system is lying to us." They weave all facets of the issue into brilliantly crafted punchlines.
Take the recent dramedy Fly Me to the Moon—a parody (even self-parody) reviving the age-old conspiracy that the moon landing was faked. But above all, it humorously explores the propaganda machine that turned Neil Armstrong into a national hero.
Back during the space race, the Soviets, amid Cold War tensions, tried discrediting America’s achievement. The film trolls these conspiracy theorists by simultaneously showing what happened and what they claim didn’t happen. I won’t spoil the conflict’s resolution—let’s just say it’ll make you smirk.
In broad strokes, the film follows Kelly Jones (a delightful character played by Scarlett Johansson), a brilliant marketing executive hired by the U.S. government to "sell" the Apollo 11 mission to a skeptical public amid budget cuts. She must also win over reluctant politicians questioning the project’s value.
Naturally, there’s a love story: Kelly clashes with Cole Davis (Channing Tatum), NASA’s rigid launch director obsessed with safety and authenticity. Conflict escalates when Kelly is tasked with a secret plan (no spoilers—watch the movie, lol).
The protagonists’ shared mission creates a delicious emotional salad—enjoyable both for casual viewers and those dissecting its subtext. Above all, it intensifies the core dilemma: Ethics vs. Patriotism and Reality vs. Perception. I’ll admit I felt genuine anguish, unable to pick a side—the tension between authentic scientific triumph and the need to manipulate public narrative transcends both characters against the cutthroat backdrop of the Cold War.
Yet within this period atmosphere, a traditional value shines through: "Don’t lie to those you love, even at great cost." The lovers chose truth. The public wasn’t deceived either.
Extrapolating this intimate truth to society, the film delivers a fistless punch to conspiracy theorists everywhere—Russians or otherwise—by inviting us to laugh at "evidence" and "proof" that maligned actors deemed (or still deem) fake.
This humility and confidence stem from the old adage: "Words move, but actions drag." I’ll say it plainly: The world celebrated the real moon landing. Supporting anecdote? Buzz Aldrin (the second man on the moon) has a cameo. During filming, he improvised a comment about lunar gravity based on his actual experience, leaving the cast in awe. The director kept it in.
Artistically, the filmmakers nailed it: an elegant, shrewd heroine paired with set design reflecting conservative American pop culture creates endlessly enjoyable scenes.
Another wardrobe anecdote: For key scenes, the costume team used an ultra-authentic Apollo-era spacesuit loaned by a collector. It was so valuable and fragile that actor Ray Romano joked he was "more afraid of damaging the suit than of bad acting."
In short: Scarlett Johansson as a femme fatale advertiser; the Apollo 11 landing as global spectacle and Cold War chess move; a love story; and a masterful troll-job against conspiracy theorists—these elements guarantee both a gratifying watch and proof of high-quality, high-concept romantic comedy. Enjoy it.
(Frames captured as screenshots by me)
