Showing posts with label Children of Men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children of Men. Show all posts

Monday, November 1, 2010

Children of Men (2006)

“Children of Men’ is the movie 1984’s “Nineteen Eighty Four” wanted to be. It takes the DNA of P.D. James’ stellar dystopian sci-fi novel of the same name, and runs in a vastly different, but fascinating, direction.

On its bleak surface, it’s a nightmare about the collapse of civilization. Dig deep and pay attention, and it is apparent that director Alfonso Cuaron has made the redemptive film of our time, outpacing Mel Gibson’s torture-porn film, “The Passion of the Christ” by miles. "Children" also is one of the most pro-life films ever made despite the shocking violence. It is one of the best films of this young century.

Its 2027, London. The world has de-evolved into madness. No children have been born for 18+ years. The world’s youngest person has been stabbed to death. New York City has been obliterated. Entire nations have fallen. And the coffee shop that cubicle office worker Theo Faron (Clive Owen, robbed of an Oscar) has just walked out of explodes in a fireball. Theo drops his coffee cup. This is in the first amazing 5 minutes of “Children.” The film gets better, and remains mysterious. We never learn the cause of the infertility, and that unknown is vital. The unknown is ... vital. A must.

Faron is a dead walking soul who doesn’t give a fuck, living in a world that’s dying. Not even the sudden appearance of his radical ex-wife (Julianne Moore) spurs him to life. When she asks him for a favor – to help ferry a young African woman to safety – his only interest is money. In a quick scene of shocking violence along a rural highway, Theo’s world is turned upside down. I can’t give away the plot details here, but slowly and viciously, every one and thing in his life is ripped away. Even his shoes. As the film marches to its climax, though, Theo gains purpose. He finds his life and hope in a land of darkness.

Cuaron and his screenwriters use every ripped-from-the-headlines source they can, turning England into a Euro-Iraq, torn apart by terrorism. Mixed in are anti-immigrant mantras, Homeland Security and hate as a government-led religion and mafia, religious strife, privileged art collectors, and satisfaction guaranteed suicide pills.

That’s why this film is not just great, but masterful. It’s twisted mirror of our own existence, where some Fox News bonehead can tout his Christian faith in one breathe and call for the death of all Muslims in the next. I’m talking about O’Reilly, here. I’m not one to wax on about religion or church, but this truly seems to be the opposite approach: Love so strong, it's a sacrifice. In a world of madness, it’s the most lost soul who can save us.

The film's final chapter is among the greatest I've ever experienced. Heart-breaking, hopeful, shockingly violent, and unforgettable. Listen to that laughter. A+

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Blindness (2008)

"Blindness" is a close cousin to 2006‘s "Children of Men": A malady besets society (here, blindness; barren wombs in "Men") and a group of survivors including Julianne Moore (both films) must muddle through before they see any sign of hope. Here, the metaphor is obvious … loudly so. Among the victims are Mark Ruffalo’s casually racist eye doctor, Danny Glover’s one-eyed wise man and Gael Garcia Bernal’s anarchistic psychotic. NOT affected is Ruffalo’s dutiful wife (Moore), who keeps her sight a secret. As the Miracle Woman, logic leads one to believe that Moore would take charge. Maybe even take advantage. Not so. She is starved and orally gang-raped with sickening ease, watches and shrugs as her hubby screws a whore, and cries. A lot. “Men” soared with heart, shocks and quite possibly the best pro-life film message in memory. It was alive. Different. “Blindness” is flat, and more proof that good-intended liberal-message films can mimic a Sarah Palin book: All out nonsense. A misstep by director Fernando Meirelles (“City of God”). C+