The Alien Within: When Grief Meets the Cosmos in a Welsh Teen's Odyssey
There’s something irresistibly charming about a story that blends the absurd with the profound, and Out There does just that—with a dash of Welsh humor and a whole lot of heart. Personally, I think what makes this YA comedy drama stand out isn’t just its quirky premise but the way it uses aliens as a metaphor for something far more human: the struggle to accept loss. Writer-director Simon Ryninks, in his feature debut, crafts a tale that’s equal parts whimsical and melancholic, set against the backdrop of a fictional Welsh town in 1999. It’s a world of dot-matrix printers, Sony Handicams, and New Labour references—a nostalgic time capsule that feels both distant and oddly familiar.
A Teen’s Quest for Closure (or Aliens)
At the heart of the story is Maz (Nerys Amber Stocks), a teenager haunted by her father’s mysterious death. Five years ago, he was killed in a bizarre incident involving a flash of white light—an event Maz witnessed as a child but can’t fully recall. Is it PTSD, or did aliens erase her memory? What makes this particularly fascinating is how Ryninks uses Maz’s obsession with UFOs as a lens to explore grief. Her belief that her dad was abducted, not dead, isn’t just a plot device; it’s a coping mechanism. In my opinion, this is where the story transcends its comedic trappings. It’s not just about finding aliens—it’s about finding a way to live with the unknown, to reconcile the pain of loss with the hope of something more.
The Power of Belief (and Shrooms)
Maz’s plan to infiltrate a top-secret Ministry of Defence base is where the story takes a delightfully absurd turn. With the help of her nervous best friend Elis (Tom Maya) and local ufologist Bryn (Aneurin Barnard), she embarks on a mission that’s part heist, part spiritual quest. But it’s the introduction of Shifty Gruff (Michael Sheen) that steals the show. As Caradoc’s resident new age guru and drug dealer, Gruff offers Maz hypnotherapy to unlock her memories. His line, “I have [done regression therapy] in a past life,” is delivered with such smooth conviction that you can’t help but laugh. What this really suggests is that belief—whether in aliens, past lives, or commercial opportunities—is a powerful force. Gruff’s excitement when the hypnosis works isn’t just about helping Maz; it’s about validating his own worldview.
The Melancholy Truth Beneath the Laughter
Amid the extraterrestrial shenanigans, Ryninks weaves in a deeper question: What if our fascination with UFOs is just a way to avoid the finality of death? This raises a broader perspective—one that’s often overlooked in stories about aliens. UFO belief isn’t just about little green men; it’s about the human need for transcendence, for something beyond the mundane. Maz’s quest for her father isn’t just about finding him; it’s about finding meaning in a world that often feels chaotic and unfair. From my perspective, this is what makes Out There more than just a comedy—it’s a meditation on mortality, wrapped in a saucer-eyed adventure.
A Missed Opportunity (or Is It?)
One thing that immediately stands out is the underutilization of Kimberley Nixon, whose talent feels wasted in a minor role. Personally, I think this is a missed opportunity, especially since the story could easily expand into a TV series. What many people don’t realize is that the best stories leave you wanting more, and Out There certainly does that. Its blend of humor, heart, and existential questioning feels tailor-made for a longer format. If you take a step back and think about it, the show could explore not just Maz’s journey but the quirky lives of Caradoc’s residents—each with their own reasons for looking to the stars.
The Bigger Picture: Why This Story Matters
What this film really nails is the balance between the absurd and the profound. It’s entertaining, yes, but it’s also a thoughtful exploration of grief, belief, and the human condition. In a world where we’re constantly bombarded with doomscrolling and existential dread, Out There offers a refreshing reminder that it’s okay to look for answers—even if they’re out of this world. A detail that I find especially interesting is how the story never dismisses Maz’s beliefs, even as it grounds her journey in reality. It’s a rare approach that respects both the character and the audience.
Final Thoughts: A Cosmic Coming-of-Age Tale
In the end, Out There is more than just a YA comedy drama; it’s a cosmic coming-of-age story that asks: What if the aliens we’re searching for are just reflections of our own fears and desires? Personally, I think this is a question worth pondering. Whether you’re a believer in UFOs or a skeptic, there’s something universally relatable about Maz’s journey. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most important discoveries aren’t out there in the stars—they’re within us.
