Children of Men

The horizon is thick with smoke. Polluted by years of abuse by mankind. Roving bands of marauding refugees wage war on the tiny pockets of civilization left around the world, the key area being London. Those who were unlucky enough to be part of either group are rounded up and placed in holding pens and ghettos, society's way of disposing of unwanted guests. It is very nearly the end of the world, mankind is literally on its' last legs. This kind of scenario is typically reserved for the kind of niche horror market predominantly ruled by the likes of George Romero, but here, "Children of Men," is that special blend; a socially conscious movie that attributes the almost supernatural declination of mankind to his own sins. Although it would seem incorrect to state this, Alfonso Cuaron's brilliant and sobering film is in fact, a zombie movie.

Hell, certainly may not be full, but here, it doesn't matter. The world, inhabited by the likes of Clive Owen, Michael Caine, Julianne Moore and the always brilliant Chiwetel Ejiofor, is on the brink of collapse; brought about by the absence of new life. Instead of being denied death, like in the classic zombie tradition, it is the denial of life that so transcendently brings about the connection the two films have with each other. Instead of the omnipresent horde of the undead, mankind is forced to confront an irrepressible shroud of nothingness. Having not seen a new child born in over 27 years, the end of mankind is literally only years away.

Cuaron has a deft touch that is reminiscent of early Ridley Scott, presented by a love of heavily filtered filming and camera speeds that allow the viewer to see every speck of dirt that is thrust into the air during some of the most dynamic war scenes captured on film since "Saving Private Ryan." At first it appears that Cuaron has decided to shoot his movie in a cinema verite, but that soon turns into the notion that he decided to film in a sort of documentary style; something akin to Paul Greengrass, but again, this seems to underscore what was accomplished. It is only later, as the viewer is completely sucked into the film that it becomes apparent; "Children of Men," was shot in a voyeuristic fashion. Cuaron and his crew - the actors included - have constructed a film that allows the viewer to be the proverbial fly on the wall, a chance to witness the last attempt at a future mankind may have. This technique, of voyeurism, enhances the effectiveness of an already enlightening film to the degree that it becomes real, the threat here is very real and that must be what Cuaron and company had in mind. When filmmakers decide to shove their morality down an audience's throat, it should be done in this fashion. There is no sense of guilt or leveling of blame, which was the choice of "An Inconvenient Truth," but rather here, "Children of Men," even in its universally bleak outlook, seems to hold on to the notion that while it is condemning humankind, it is also celebrating the individuals who would still fight for a little more time.

Wisely, the film's condemnation of mankind is completely encapsulating. Here, everyone has something to hide and is totally willing to sell out anyone else to suit their belief in what society - should it be rebuilt - should resemble. Owen, an unfortunate parent to have outlived his first and only child, then finds himself the caretaker of the only woman on the planet able to bare children. When it becomes depressingly and shockingly obvious that people will further destroy one another over the chance to control her and her offspring, Owen springs to action; delivering what one can only consider being the salvation of the world. However, as all the double-crossing and backstabbing continues to be revealed, it becomes apparent that the film has an utterly nihilistic view and despite having what appears to be a hope for the future, held within the confines of a shadowy group known only as The Human Project, it really only additionally appropriates the notion that perhaps humanity will not make it much further than the final scene of this film. The Human Project, a group so obsessed with bringing a brighter Tomorrow, that they cannot be bothered to help today. The group's astonishing amount of inaccessibility only further accompanies the notion that while all exterior appearances, for those who know of their existence, suggest savior, they really are the same as every other group battling for societal dominance.

Bleak and uncompromising, "Children of Men," should be lauded for what it is: an unapologetic look at the abuse mankind has inflicted upon itself and the subsequent punishment that will come in the form of uncontrollable emotional and physical devastation. It is rare that a film like this would be made especially given that much of its moral conviction is told without the unnecessary and unfortunately ubiquitous heavy-handed style that so many in Hollywood seem to feel as prudent filmmaking. Congratulations to Cuaron and his amazing cast for making a film that will not only leave most people contemplating its deep meaning, but for also making it astonishing entertainment, as well.