Feb
8
For Paul Drozdowski. Spoilers abound, be warned.
Our hero’s day job at the Energy Company proves far too nauseating for him, when he sees his fellow employees all at their workstations, each watching the exact same broadcast, and crying. There is nothing nauseating occurring in his mind when he’s bleeding to death at an old water station, helping a woman and her baby into a small rowboat, and he is surrounded by paintings similar to those of cave paintings, bright and unique and primitive.
And that’s really the question of “Children of Men,” and it is a question, not a theme. What aggravated me about the movie was that I was always on edge - there was no time to linger or think. The characters are rushing, the scenes are racing, our senses are provoked one way, then another. Get the symbols in: like how he drinks alcohol until the moment of delivery, or the times “Jesus Christ” is uttered by him and the man who kills him and his wife, and move on. Nothing to see here, there’s a story to complete, with a big fat boat saying “tomorrow” at the end, as if there’s hope.
I mean, please. It’s very clear the movie’s question is whether we are beyond hope, as Clive Owen says at the beginning of the movie in a moment of reflection with Michael Caine. All the heroic virtues, placed in our dysfunctional time, are made less than what they are, even as they shine brighter. Note how Owen and Julianne Moore, the terrorist ex-wife, fight. There is no way to reconcile these two, even as they are going to try to save humanity. In another movie, we’d say they’re symbolic of two things that are key to the human, but cannot be reconciled perfectly. But I looked at them and saw at least two relationships of mine up there, on screen: there was the point we just couldn’t talk to each other anymore. She’d start getting hysterical and wouldn’t listen, and I’d start getting frustrated and wouldn’t talk. (Note what happens to husband and ex-wife when ex-wife does start getting receptive to his advances, and how much pressure there had to be to give into the old feelings). And these two are the virtuous ones of the “future.”
That’s the real reason why there are no children in the “future” - “Children of Men” isn’t about the future, it’s about the present. Who has kids anymore? Those cages on the subway platforms, crowds shouting “Allah Akhbar” and firing guns into the air, police in full riot gear - are we separated from that by something in us, that won’t give way, or by degree?
The movie seems to say it is a matter of degree. Our hero is one who is above love in any erotic sense, because he has to be. He’s put in that worst of all positions well before any greater responsibility, because of the need to survive himself. All his heroic actions, though, depend on Fortune. Someone has to be there to pick up the woman and her baby at the end. And yes, there is an element of Fortune, a trust in Nature, that is needed for us to be human, don’t get me wrong. And he is a genuine hero, a complete human being, because he does take chances for love.
But the Fortune involved here is that a miracle needs more miracles to be a miracle. It is not unbelievable: the movie is credible enough. It’s rather saying something about the movement of the movie. The death of an age may mean there is a new beginning, somewhere. But any life connected with the previous age isn’t part of that age. The old age can’t even see anymore. It just stands in awe or confusion, like the most simple things are beyond it.
We move from land and energy to water and fog. The life that is born isn’t a new hope for man. It’s a new hope for another age. This one is done, and the reduction to the primal is complete. In a sense, everyone is doomed, even those who might start the new age. For no one wants to be at the beginning of something which has so suspect a chance at being preserved.
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5 Responses to “The Fall of Man: On "Children of Men"”
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Dammit!! I wanted to see that! Oh well, I suppose in a few days I will forget the review, and its lesson. Then again, probably not.
I keep thinking about virtue and virtues, and the distinction between the two words. More to the point I wonder if there exists today any thing like a set of virtues, or even one “uber Virtue” that covers it all, today. Are we in a society, a culture, that lacks any sense of ethic?
I get the point about the vulnerability of the virtuous. I shouldn’t respond to comments when drinking wine. But I still feel that the vulnerability is what makes virtue virtuous. If we weren’t left vulnerable to evil and the unvirtuous is it really worth anything? I doubt it.
One of the themes that seemed to constantly hound me in this movie is that obligation. Obligation to the state, to the next generation, where that obligation lies.
The movie would say that an obligation to the state is not required but simply that the adherence to the state is the medium by which we further ourselves in the next generation. Without an upcoming generation the world, sans Britain (as Britain has always fancied herself an exception to the rule), descends into anarchy. I’m not sure if that is sufficient.
Is the world simply held together because we have kids? Given the way that our society is going I’m quite surprised it wasn’t seen as a blessing in order to make the most of their lives without any sort of sacrifice.
The one issue you didn’t touch upon was Clive Owen’s cousin and his temple of arts and civilization. I would love some feedback on that
I was just talking to my coworkers about this movie today! It was a short story, right?
Haven’t seen it myself, but they tell me it’s somewhat of an “artsy fartsy” movie with no real point. I guess you got more out of the movie. =)
I wouldn’t call it an “artsy fartsy” movie at all. If anything it is more a dystopian adventure-drama. I mean its far closer to blade runner than to garden state (which I completely loathe for the blatant “artsy fartsy”ness). It’s a movie that creates a lot of questions and not that many answers.
I can see where you’re coming from. *nodding head* I think the pacing was perfect. How often do we reflect while experiencing changes? It boils down to the instinct to survive; one does what is necessary to move forward. Reflection comes later.