As we live in a sort of dystopia with the Covid-19 enforced lockdown, we can cheer ourselves up by observing that things ain’t as bad as they might be. In Children of Men, director Alfonso Cuarón and his four other scriptwriters, show a truly terrifying vision of a future without children (based on PD James’ novel). As is the way with science fiction, the film is about now; and the now of 2006 is even more relevant in 2020. The focus of the film is on the treatment of migrants and things have got much worse in the last 14 years as the right-wing dehumanisation of human beings has gained more traction. It’s noticeable that there are those on the right, in the current crisis, who are being honest in their defence of the economy over the lives of the old and infirm (I won’t link to any as they are not worth reading). If the likes of Toby Young are seen on mainstream broadcasters such as the BBC again . . .
In the film Cuarón highlights the lack of human empathy in our world through: the treatment of migrants; police state tactics; the desecration of the environment; the war on terror; celebrity culture. It shows illegal migrants being caged before deportation and a police state similar to that imagined by George Orwell in his novel 1984 (published 1949). There are numerous contemporary UK references, such as the burning of livestock because of ‘mad cow’ disease and the hysteria that accompanied the ‘national’ mourning of Princess Diana.
In a documentary short that accompanied the DVD release of the film, The Possibility of Hope (US 2007), the broader issues of climate change and capitalism (which both fuel increased migration) are investigated showing Cuarón to be a political filmmaker even if his films are commercial in nature.
I’m not sure why Children of Men wasn’t a hit as it is a brilliant action movie containing some of the most thrilling sequences in cinema. Cuarón likes to use the long take, also used to devastating effect in Roma and with didactic purpose in Y tu mama tambien. Film theorist André Bazin would likely have approved of Cuarón’s aesthetic except for the fact he favours a moving camera. Having screentime mirror the audience’s experience of time does signify realism, we get a sense that we see characters acting in real time and so avoiding the manipulation of editing (ignoring the fact that a number of long takes in the film are separate shots digitally welded together). In addition, this ‘sense’ of real time can serve to heighten suspense in a ‘race against time’ narrative sequence. Hence, when the protagonists are under attack in a car the escape unfolds in the same time experienced by the spectator and, as there are no cuts, it seems as if the profilmic event happened as it is shown. Having the camera inside the vehicle further enhances the suspense as this gives the audience the same viewpoint as the characters.
Cuarón’s long takes are not always focused on key narrative action. For example, at one point the camera wanders away from Theo, who is present in every scene of the film, to seemingly investigate what’s going on elsewhere: when he’s on his way to work, soldiers are standing on the street and the camera walks through them to see a block of flats being emptied, presumably of refugees.
Clive Owen’s taciturn persona as the protagonist Theo is perfect for the role. Danny Huston’s cameo as a government minister is a masterful portrayal of the vapid urbanity of the English upper class. Michael Caine channels John Lennon as a Steve Bell-like political cartoonist (Bell did the actual cartoons on view) and Chiwetel Ejiofor, as a revolutionary, manages to convey deranged fervour and genuine concern. However, the true star of the film is Cuarón and his long-time collaborator, cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, who have produced a devastating vision of life without a future and life with humanity.
Writer-directors Caroline Poggi and Jonathan Vinel won an award for their short As Long as Shotguns Remain (Tant qu’il nous reste des fusils à pompe, France, 2014) at the Berlin film festival and hence this, their feature debut, was greeted with interest. And the first part of the film is interesting, a dystopian future where orphans are treated like, and actually seem to be, homicidal maniacs and hunted down by the state. ‘Fortunately’ Jessica (Aomi Muyock, who starred in Gaspar Noé’s Love) is on hand to maternally protect them. If my summary sounds a bit facetious that’s probably due to my annoyance at the film’s failure to be convincing. Dystopias tend to be warnings about the present and the treatment of orphans, particularly those housed in institutions, can be highly problematic; in the UK many girls, in particular, find themselves in abusive situations. However Poggi and Vinel never convince me their society is a metaphor for anything.
Jessica’s orphans are all male and she is barely older than them (they are probably in their 20s) making her maternal role problematic at best. The boys are clearly hormonal and it’s barely convincing that none of the men would fancy her, and given their behaviour, not try to act upon their desire. It’s not until toward the end of the film that sex is treated as a key aspect of being young. Psychologically it’s simply not convincing and the ending doesn’t solve any of the narrative issues.
It’s also the first feature of cinematographer Marine Atlan and she comes out of the film with a lot of credit. Altan gives the settings, often middle class suburbia, a slightly ethereal feel which creates a sense of uncanny suitable to the dystopia. Muyock is adequate in the virtually silent main role but she isn’t given much material to work with. Sally Potter, speaking recently on Radio 3, stated that the script is the key element of film, the architecture on which everything is hung, and in the case of Jessica Forever, its lack of coherence meant the film was almost certain to fail.
The first of the adaptations of Phil K. Dick short stories was something of a disappointment for me. I’d read that the changes made to the narrative were only minor but in fact they are fundamental. Does it matter? I’m not sure. The adaptation is by Matthew Graham who wrote the ‘going back in time’ TV seriesLife on Mars and Ashes to Ashes in the 2006-10.
The ‘Hoods’ of the title are protection for ordinary citizens who don’t wish to be ‘probed’ by telepaths (‘teeps’) working for the government in this alternative future. The hoods are not yet illegal but an ‘Anti-Immunity Bill’ is in the works which would mean refusal to be probed (to prove ‘loyalty’) would become an offence. Dick was writing in the early 1950s and created the ‘teeps’ as the children of parents affected by a nuclear explosion.
The major change in the adaptation is to shift the narrator character from an older man who receives a hood and becomes an unwitting tool of the ‘rebels’ to the pairing of a police ‘Clearance’ officer and his teep partner. In the original, the teep is male but in the adaptation she is female. The other change is in the presentation of the alternative world. Dick barely describes his worlds in the early stories, but they are easily imagined as rather sterile cities and their suburbs not dissimilar to Eisenhower’s America of the 1950s (these are also the settings for Dick’s non-SF novels). Since the film adaptation that became Blade Runner (1982) the ‘dystopian city of the future’ seems to have become a standard presentation. In this new adaptation there isn’t the budget to go the whole hog so we get an odd mash-up of architectural styles and 1960s/70s cars. The ad breaks also featured a trailer for the Blade Runner sequel due out in a couple of weeks – a truly Dickian touch. But I do worry that Ridley Scott’s conception is pushing out Dick (Scott is the Executive producer of the new film directed by Denis Villeneuve but he seems to have a major say in the look (and music) of the new film).
The result of the changes eventually leads us into an emotional relationship between cop and teep (similar to blade runner and replicant?) which makes this quite a different narrative to the original. Dick’s sympathies are clearly with the rebels but the new version makes the police officer more sympathetic and the teep’s motives are more difficult to understand. Dick’s 1953 story ends with a certain twist which was then traditional in science fiction. The ‘threat’ to humanity from a teep takeover is ended by something simple and central to the teep’s existence – so the effect is like the common cold contracted by the Martians in the War of the Worlds and also like the problems of humanity in Children of Men. The new version has an ‘open’ ending – again a Blade Runner link? I think that it is actually more powerful to contemplate the incipient fascism of suburban 1950s America than to create Ridley Scott-type dystopias.
Holliday Grainger and Richard Maddern are good leads (and Grainger copes well with the hair and make-up) but I struggled to hear the dialogue – I recorded the show and I should have thought about subtitles. The next episode in Electric Dreams is based on an even shorter story (10 pages) with a single narrative enigma. I wonder how that will be extended? I’m going to record all the episodes and then perhaps make a final judgement.
One last point – I’m happy to greet the next reviewer who refers to Dick adaptations as ‘sci-fi’ with a metaphorical ‘slem gun’ blast (the weapon used in these early 1950s stories). It’s SF or science fiction!
The broad genre category of horror/science fiction/fantasy has long been popular in Spain and this latest example is a CGI-heavy CinemaScope dystopian narrative set in Barcelona after a mysterious virus associated with agoraphobia has killed most of the population caught outside their homes. This basic premise is perhaps the major weakness in what is otherwise a well-mounted and entertaining narrative. Simply being outside a building seems to bring on all kinds of physical afflictions (bleeding from the ears, frothing at the mouth, heart attacks etc.). The ‘virus’ is never really explained, except that a volcanic eruption is said to be a trigger. Otherwise people seem to be dying from mass hysteria. In one sense it doesn’t really matter – this is a classic survival/rescue story. A computer coder, Marc, is desperate to find his partner Julia who he thinks was at home in their apartment when the crisis began. Circumstances mean that he must share his quest with Enrique, the HR executive who has been sent into the company to ‘reduce staffing levels’.
The prohibition about ‘going outside’ means that the characters are forced to travel along subways and sewers, attempting to navigate precisely to ‘come up’ inside buildings. A working satnav becomes a highly-prized tool and Marc and Enrique meet the usual gangs of thugs who control food stores and who maraud along the subways. Most of the action is familiar from other films using the same repertoire. Several scenes reminded me of Havana as seen in Juan of the Dead (Cuba-Spain 2011) and aerial shots of Barcelona’s boulevards reminded me of the empty Madrid streets in Alejandro Amenábar’s Abre los ojos (Spain 1997). Underground we could be anywhere and my favourite scene (thought to be the silliest by one reviewer) is set in a church where the pair have a confrontation with an unlikely opponent. I always find church scenes in Spanish films to be intriguing. When I came out of the screening I heard one audience member explaining that Enrique was a Christ figure in the narrative. He had a point.
IMDB gives a budget estimate of 5€ million. If that is correct it is an efficient job by the two directors Àlex and David Pastor. The film doesn’t just attempt to offer constant eye-catching action but spends time on character development. They offer us an entertaining genre film with an ending that made me think of manga/anime stories. It isn’t very original but it works well in this film. The two central performances by Quim Gutiérrez as Marc and José Coronado as Enrique carry the film. I’m not sure if it is significant that one of the pair of actors is from Barcelona and one from Madrid but the film is in Castilian Spanish with only the occasional word of Catalan (some of it not subtitled I think, but some dialogue given as “spoken in Catalan). The film does appear to have got a UK DVD release from Metrodome so if you like this kind of film do look out for it.
Attending this screening with Rona felt a little like a cultural studies day out. There was a big audience for a 4 pm showing in the Hebden Bridge Picture House – young teenagers and some parents and grandparents. I didn’t count them but my impression was that the audience was more female than male. This was a different experience to watching part 1 of the franchise in an early evening show in Cineworld with the usual dozen people in a 200-250 seat cinema. Since then the franchise has really taken off and Jennifer Lawrence has become the star of the moment.
Our interest in the film is principally in terms of a social phenomenon. I remember enjoying Part 1 but finding it insubstantial apart from Ms Lawrence and the presence of Donald Sutherland, an old favourite. At the beginning of part 2, I realised that after 18 months I had forgotten most of the other characters (and most of the plot details) and it took me a while to get up to speed. It’s a long film at 146 mins and although never bored I did find myself reflecting on the nature of blockbusters. Half the film is a variation on the first film with more sophisticated games (with much more spent on effects) and the other half deals with the politics of preparing the contestants. This half has moved on and allowed some development of the theme of resistance in the fascist state that created the games. So, on the one hand we have a film that increasingly resembles the experience of playing a game (but I’m not a gamer and I might be reading this incorrectly?) and on the other at least the possibility of some kind of political comment. Critics and audiences have seemingly found this irresistible since the film is one of the biggest box office successes of the year with over $800 million worldwide. Half of that comes from North America suggesting that the international appeal is slightly less (the ‘normal’ split is more like 37:63). I’m not sure how to read that and it may be something worth investigating. Like the Twilight franchise, The Hunger Games is not a major studio release and the international market may be a harder sell for Lionsgate.
There can’t be too much doubt that much of the film’s success is based on the performance and star persona of Jennifer Lawrence. A genuine female action hero is hard to achieve. All the comic book female heroes seem to end up in some kind of fetish gear outfit like Michelle Pfeiffer as Catwoman, in leather like Kate Beckinsale in Underworld or in hot pants like Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider. Ms Lawrence does wear a wet suit in Hunger Games but her appearance is much more like a triathlete in the Olympics with a body for fighting not posing. She looks terrific without make-up but she can still carry off the twirl in a fantastic wedding dress. She’s a young woman with a great mind, a great body and a healthy attitude, no wonder she is a potential role model. She carries the film but I did wonder, sitting amongst a large audience, exactly how they were interacting with her screen presence. I was surprised that I didn’t feel more of the excitement of the audience. Instead there was the stillness of rapt attention.
I would concur with the critics who see this as a highly competent directorial effort by Francis Lawrence (perhaps helped by Simon Beaufoy’s addition to the writing team). The money is on the screen and the addition of Philip Seymour Hoffman is a major plus. The ending of the film is well-handled, setting up the next in the franchise. I think, however, that the ‘political’ theme has been over-hyped and I did find most of the other characters rather bland and unmemorable. I know the film isn’t aimed at me and the target audience won’t have seen many of the earlier films referenced – or have the same bored response to a satire on reality TV. I excuse Jena Malone from the bland tag. I recognised her from Donnie Darko and she injected a bit of extra life. Otherwise Jennifer Lawrence commands the screen.
One one trail for the film I spotted a typo in the director’s name which was listed as ‘Frances’ Lawrence. That did make me wonder why the film doesn’t have a female director – who might have a clearer idea of how to exploit the star power of Jennifer Lawrence in even more productive ways for the benefit of a young female audience?