'Delta Space Mission' Review: The Joy of Evil Computers & Abstract Shapes
Everybody remembers that one kid in class who spent all of their waking hours obsessively drawing. Likely a little strange but typically affable, their entire personality was built around an imaginary world that was paradoxically nonexistent and yet fully realized. Their vision was practically impenetrable to anybody outside of their own head, but they’d excitedly recount intricate facts and details to anybody that would listen – whether you asked or not.
After watching the recently restored Delta Space Mission / Misiunea spatialã Delta, a Romanian animated film from 1984, I'm convinced that's exactly who directors Mircea Toia and Călin Cazan were as children. This isn’t based this on anything factual, but it's definitely the first thing that came to mind. Mostly because I’m not sure how else to describe it; Delta Space Mission exists somewhere between Ralph Bakshi and Hanna-Barbera, beyond its 2001: A Space Odyssey-but-make-it-the-Death-Star plot, past its Yellow Submarine-esque surrealist style, its anime inspired alien-dog sidekick and Star Trek-like vision of a unified planet Earth. But what makes Delta Space Mission so charming is its clear-eyed belief in itself, audience comprehension be damned.
Not that the film is particularly hard to follow: Alma, an intergalactic reporter from the Planet Opp, arrives at Earth, with her loyal pet Tin at her side, to get the scoop on the Delta Space Mission launch. The mission is fairly utopian, engaging other planets in a peaceful exchange of ideas. But more excitingly, the Delta station will be run by a brand new super-brain computer that has the ability to cultivate planets, fabricate helper robots, and travel to the edges of space – all without any human operators on board. Less impressed by its functionality, Alma is shocked at how beautiful the machine is. She confesses she’d love to keep it all for herself just to bask in its otherworldly elegance. But shortly after the station is set to launch, something goes wrong. The station goes into emergency lock down as the super brain has seemingly developed an agenda of its own…
What Delta Space Mission lacks in big budget or original plot, it makes up with an almost inexplicable attention to tertiary detail. There’s palpable passion and talent behind this film; from its beautifully abstract hand-painted backgrounds that dwarf its own characters, to its clear love of superfluous world building. Focus is not the name of the game here, but if you can accept the fact that the central plot barely matters – which, lets be honest, you should have picked up on with the first five minutes being dedicated to the end of a different story that never gets brought up again – then the rest of this is just a ball.
Alma is an engaging heroine who stands out as a refreshingly super competent female character. She’s quick with a plan, rarely in need of help and not overtly sexualized. Even more impressive is how the film makes a point to point out how attractive her intellect and sense of empathy are – both of which become the cause and the solution to everyone’s problems. With her unique character design, reminiscent of a Modigliani painting on acid, Alma feels like she might have been the original drawing that inspired the rest of this entire galaxy into being. It’s tempting to speculate that the computer’s obsession with her is a stand in for the filmmakers’ – green skin and red hair will do that to a lad, you know.
Delta Space Mission truly leans into your imagination, rewarding any viewer who can get out of their heads long enough to just roll with it. Sometimes entire sequences and scenes go by without any explanation, introducing characters or concepts we never hear from again. Heck, sometimes these scenes are told solely through silent mugging and atonal electronic music. Kick back and enjoy the way the colors whirl past your eyes. Space out to its ‘80s arcade game bleep-bloop soundtrack. Oh, you want several minutes of evil robots just replicating? Sure. What was that, stop the action to watch a bunch of Muppet-esque swamp monsters do a little dance? Yes, please and thank you.
Honestly, it's just a relief to watch something like Delta Space Mission after decades of balloon-faced 3D animated tyranny. Never mind that Deaf Crocodile’s restoration looks so spectacular, super crisp and bright – it’s the sort of thing I could enjoy looking at even without sound. Considering how pervasive and tiring Hanna-Barbera rip offs were in previous decades, I know it’s a funny sort of irony, but I’ll be damned if I don't actively yearn for this type of animation. I’ll happily take watching the same rotoscoped animation loop replay three times in one scene over the current trend of hyper-realistically textured, weightless CGI worlds.
What Delta Space Mission lacks in budget, and sometimes plot points, it makes up big in its homegrown charm and unique vision. Between this re-release and last year's The Spine of Night, let the '80s animation nostalgia resurface. If it means more unique character design and barely justified psychedelic sequences, I'm all in.
The special limited edition Blu-Ray of Delta Space Mission is available to order at Vinegar Syndrome.
