“I know why you liked that, John,” Kris said. “It’s because it was what the V for Vendetta movie should have been.”
Seeing Children of Men gives me hope. The movie itself is nihilistic to the core, and from that nihilism, I gain a shred of light. Here is a film that is unafraid to startle you, shock you, anger you, amaze you, and pull at your heart. It is merciless in all these activities. From the first few moments, you know that no-one is safe.
I’ve called it my favorite science fiction movie since Blade Runner. I may need to amend that to my favorite science fiction movie ever. No kidding.
I’ve never seen a more convincing environment for a film. I’ve never felt a place feel so believable. So utterly real. The camera tracks over long, long shots of the ruins and every detail sings authenticity. A 9 minute fire fight had me gripping the chair. Holding my breath. As the protagonist slowly works his way through the building–with explosions and bullets everywhere–one shot spills blood on the camera… and it stays there for the rest of the scene.
The Motion Picture Academy of Arts and Sciences will not recognize Children of Men. It will tip its hat to movies like Showgir–I mean Dreamgirls. Pretty movies about pretty people saying pretty things.
Children of Men is dirty, ugly, and disturbing. You don’t want to think about it after you’ve seen it. You won’t walk to talk about it. You won’t want to remember it or see it again.
But you will. Because art–true Art–is that which has the capacity to disturb us. To make us think, cry and dream.
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