It's the finest bit of cinematic dystopia since
Brazil and/or
Blade Runner -- take your pick. And it's every bit as good as either of those. And also, for DUers, a necessary compantion piece to
V for Vendetta.
Director Alfonso Cuaron, of
Y Tu Mama Tambien and "one of the good Harry Potter movies" fame riffs off P.D. James' novel about a near future world (2027) where humans have stopped reproducing, and waiting for the end has pushed humanity even more over the edge than it/they already are.
The ethos -- or is that "aesthetic?" -- of Darfur, of Baghdad, have completely overrun the world, and the last "haven" for the fading West is totalitarian London (a la V for Vendetta, but much grittier).
Clive Owen is one of those Hitchcockian everymen who gets Drawn Into Things in spite of trying to stay aloof, noncommittal. Those "things" involve the machinations of governments vs. terrorists, and whether, at last, there is some still, small reason for "hope."
I won't be more specific, because anything else would give away the story's twists and turns -- but suffice it to say, speaking of Hitchcock, that Cuaron uses that director's "Psyscho"-era disdain for traditional narrative expectations to great effect
Cuaron also said it wasn't his job to handhold viewers and decide whether there actually is any hope or not -- that's up to you.
The film is intense, harrowing, grim, unrelenting -- and, along with the aforementioned "Vendetta," the year's most expansive cinematic political commentary. At least as far as fictional narratives go.
Ah, but how "fictional?" There's the rub. A note of warning: That brief exhalation you've enjoyed since the midterm elections may be somewhat jeopardized.
It's going to be a rocky century, no matter what.
And what does it tell us that this film about babylessness is supposed to open wide on Christmas Day?