Weekly meditations from your humble messenger
Women
and Children First
(Children of Men and Volver, 1/29/07)
By Nicholas Nicastro
In
Alfonso Cuarón's fine new futuristic thriller, Children of
Men, the day after tomorrow looks a lot like today's Iraq. The British,
having sealed off their borders against illegal aliens, have erected
a national security state complete with checkpoints, identity cards,
and the inevitable insurgency. London looks both tailpipe crusty and
hopped-up on digital imagery. "The world is falling apart,"
a government commercial blares, "and only Britain soldiers on!"
We can almost hear Donald Rumsfeld boasting that freedom is on the march.
There's one significant difference:
based on P.D. James' novel of the same name, Children of Men
posits a future where all human females have mysteriously become infertile.
With no children born for the last 18 years, humanity is looking into
the abyss of inevitable extinction. Naturally, the "wrath of God"
nutcases—Islamist and otherwise—come out of the woodwork,
triggering a worldwide wave of terrorism. Suddenly, market day in Sadr
City isn't looking so bad.
Granted, there are quite a few folks
around today who would take the prospect of childress restaurants and
airplane flights as blessings. For the rest of us, though, Cuarón
(Y Tu Mama Tambien) presents what is possibly the most vivid
dystopic nightmare since Blade Runner. As in Blade Runner,
the script by Cuarón, Timothy Sexton, et al. builds on the old
gumshoe/hard-boiled genre—one built on the notion that no human
depravity should come as a surprise—and subverts it into something
hauntingly the opposite.
Perhaps most impressive, he achieves
this not through flashy production design, but with a confident visual
style that includes some truly brilliant (and harrowing) long takes.
Compared to this, V for Vendetta feels like a trip to feed the
pigeons in Hyde Park.
* * *
On
January 19th, the attendees were packed so tightly at 7th Art Corporation's
Volver benefit screening that reaching the banquet table was
an achievement. Fortunately, the cause was worth the trouble: the event
was held to raise funds for the non-profit corporation's projected multiplex
theater on Green Street. Along with Cornell Cinema, 7th Art is a mainstay
of Ithaca's lively film culture, and deserves support in its quest to
grow (information for donors is available at their website, www.cinemapolis.com).
In this particular case, the pre-screening edibles (donated by Just
a Taste, Moosewood, Madeleine's, The Lost Dog, and the Mahogany Grill)
and Iberian-style live music (by guitarist Matthew Billie) made doing
the right thing the pleasant thing as well.
The local premiere of Pedro Almodóvar's
Volver ("to return") was received with similar enthusiasm.
I mean, you know you have a receptive house when, as the heroine (Penelope
Cruz) turns a bowl of flan, the audience lets out an audible gasp of
awe. Cruz has been nominated for an Oscar for the role of "Raimunda"
in Almodóvar's latest gynocentric talkfest, and by the way her
radiant presence dominates the film, she deserves it. Watching her,
it's as if we've been transported back a couple of generations, to when
actresses like Jeanne Moreau and Sophia Loren had opportunity to show
the glamour of being complex, grown-up women.
It's to the credit of Almodóvar
(Talk to Her; Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down) that he's willing to give
the film over to Cruz. Alas, being a conscientious objector to the director's
chatty girl-fections, this writer too often found his mind drifting
back to that banquet table out in the lobby.
©2007 Nicholas Nicastro
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