I watch movies to feel things. I'd like to imagine that most people do, too. Whether it be laughter, vindication, empathy, it's all catharsis. Sure, movies can have grandiose schemes of philosophical concepts that chalk up victory points with whatever the creator's point was. I like to be intellectually stimulated by film. But when it comes down to it, there's a certain magic to seeing people live out a story, and especially one where we see parts of ourselves. It's a distinctly human form of storytelling. We react to what we see, and emotions pour out, visceral and beautiful and haunting and whatever else they need to be.
This visual intimacy is why Children of Men is the astounding piece of art that it is. Alfonso Cuarón lets the camera linger. It follows, almost seeks, the action in a devastating plunge into hope and despair. It's a fairly complex film, with themes of xenophobia, authoritarianism, and moral relativity, and it sounds cliche, but the characters and their motivations are the driving force of the film. Cuarón misses none of this. His camera sits and stays and absorbs all the drama the film has to offer. It's a simple premise-- in a dystopian future, society in almost all the world has collapsed due to infertility. The opening scene shows the film will pull no punches. It's brutal and unforgiving in its depiction of human suffering and cruelty, but it's not cynical-- characters do good, help each other. In a memorable soliloquy by Jasper (the never-better Michael Caine), fate and chance bring us together and tear us apart, but we can't know exactly what or why, but dammit, why not just enjoy those fleeting moments? Theo (Clive Owen) has had that hope ripped away from him, and the realism of the film and his character add an onerous pathos that can't be ignored. The camera settles on him more often than not, and he delivers on every note.
The film feels real. I've seen more apocalyptic films than I care to admit, and I didn't know how Children of Men was going to shiny up the tired formula. It didn't go for the bombastic or overly gritty. It made it real, almost a mirror, and that's the most terrifying part of the film. We could someday ban all immigrants. It seems far-fetched for many nations at this point, but if some catastrophic event happens? What then? The various religious and political groups, in their uncompromising ideologies, feel extreme, but that's what they've been pushed to. This is life pushed to hysteria, the breaking point. It feels barren, but never loses the edge of rebellion and hope. I had no idea what resolution would be reached, if any, but the balance of faith and despair drives the film, and I couldn't help but follow it as it delves into the worlds of ghettos, the fanciful rich, and every other abscess of humanity.
Art compromises to please the viewer. It happens, and with varying levels of sycophancy, it detracts. I'm not saying that an action romp or a raunchy comedy are worse than arthouse-- if a script has a vision, it should stick to that vision, and the audience should take it as is. Children of Men is as uncompromising a film as I've seen. It's alternatively dark and hopeful, but the one doesn't act as a salve to the other. It's startlingly natural in a world that isn't. This is a film that deserves a 2nd and 3rd and 4th viewing. I haven't said nearly as much as I would like to say, and I'm sure that I'll say more. This film is a masterpiece, and from the 2000s, only No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood best it. A wonder of a film.
Final Grade: A+
No comments:
Post a Comment