Friday, January 12, 2007

Children of Men - Reviewed



Everyone is choking themselves on their popcorn for Children of Men. One person I saw the movie with literally shot himself in the head. It's just that good. The Village Voice's J. Hoberman, the rum-drinking lush, lauded one of the movie's gripping scenes, "The year's most brilliantly choreographed action sequence," and The Guardian called the film, "A brilliant vision of a dystopian future Britain." It's odd, because I almost always disagree with critics about films - it's a spite thing. A few years back, my father told me when we walked into The Sixth Sense that it was going to suck, and dammit, he was right. His prescience is phenomenal, even for a blind man with no dog. He ruined the whole thing. But, alas, in the case of COM, the critics are absolutely right, it's fucking fun.

Set twenty years from now in London (Orwell's London), Children of Men opens with the world on the brink of total - "it's okay to rob that old wanker" - apocalypse. Society is sliding into anarchy, the only people who keep order actually inflict horrific disorder (sorta like our army). It's like looking into a modern-day, fascist Nazi situation. Images are eerily reminiscent of Abu Ghraib, and, cleverly, like the graphic novel "V for Vendetta." Theo, played by Clive Owen dressed in a pig costume, is kidnapped by members of a "terrorist group" called "The Fishes," headed by Julianne Moore. I find issue here only that a woman could never lead a terrorist group (they're inferior), especially in a world where it's their fault they can't have babies. It has nothing to do with men. Men, of course, still rock-the-mic raw. However, Moore is Owen's estranged wife, and she asks him to lead Kee (the name inference is not lost on the most retarded of female viewers) to "The Human Project." Thus, Cuaron's awesome chase begins with all sorts of weird events, improbable but welcome twists, and, of course, a Bear is slaughetered for no reason whatsoever. Pure, trademark Cuaron.

Where I love this movie is where I actually disagree with the wonderful writers at Pajiba. "Perhaps the most compelling aspect of the film is Cuaron's somewhat hopeful outlook," they write. However, this is simply not true. I'll not spoil the ending here, but watch carefully in the last few shots. I think you'll find that there may be hope, but darkness and despair overpower this chilling view of a world that isn't just a fiction. For various reasons, it's very fathomable. Worse even, it's filmed and set in England - perhaps one of the least aesthetic people on the planet. Even their bosomy beauties are not as attractive as the little, pock-marked street urchins sucking on the meth pipes and sniffing paper-bag-hidden Elmers in Nebraska's weirdest rural suburbs. Yes, dear readers, a great, fun movie that leaves itself open to interpretation, but, moreso, gives you a thrill for a mere $12 dollars.

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