Guy de Fraumeni’s Hollywood in The Hamptons

Children of Men

Since a ghostly-ghastly vision of the apocalyptic near future was not exactly the present you wanted in your Christmas movie stocking, you probably did not leave your cozy, warm hearth and kin to face it at the Cineplex. ‘Tis a great shame that Children of Men, terrifically brilliant cinema, was crowded out by over-stuffed Santa treats. Now that the holidays have passed, you might now want to be thrillingly impressed by images that will come back to move you repeatedly.

Set in England, only a gasp away from now in 2027, the film plausibly acts out the cataclysmic failing of this world, a world we have mistreated, mishandled and mistakenly assumed to be indestructible. Maybe we were prophetic, for by 2027 the population has been polluted to withered infertility. Life and landscape are barren and bleak, a dark, smoky no man’s land battlefield, writhing with frightened figures prodded and subjugated by military hordes. It is Iraq gone global – warring disparate factions in continual attack, acts of terrorism disrupt and destroy, the military stifles what little freedom remains in the rubble, refugee camps crowded to the wire fences and illegal immigrants herding through barbed wire.

The fascinatingly cinematic director, Alfonso Cuaron (Y Tu Mama Tambien), has grasped upon the illegal immigrant theme with avid zeal and made Children of Men a zinger of a political thriller. He and three other screenwriters have adapted P.D. James’ (best known for her mysteries) 1992 Orwellian novel, also titled The Children of Men. Sr. Cuaron and Ms. James’ dystopian future is made fabulously real because of Cuaron’s inordinately skillful artistry. Even when he presents us with fable-like symbols, he is genuinely convincing. His cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki, suits Cuaron’s artistry to a synchronized film sprocket, matching visual and editorial frames with glorious meaning. Lubezki’s smoldering charcoal and iron blue palette chills and dampens the spirit whereas his hand-held swirling cameras not only generate spectacular action but also the awful sensation that you are in the midst of it all.

A minimal and predictable storyline is transformed by the moviemakers and performers. Clive Owen, as Theo, is a once-dedicated activist who gives in to bureaucracy until he rejoins one-time lady friend Julianne Moore (as Julian), who encourages him to get back into the conflict by aiding underground rebels who give assistance to refugees, called ‘fugees. For too long, Theo has tried to escape despair. He’s content with cynicism and idly picking through the rubble. He spends time with a political cartoonist, Jasper, who’s retired to drugs and rap music and wears shoulder-length hippie hair that is actually believable coupled with Michael Caine’s quirky, tender performance. Besides sharing weed with Theo, he continues to poke jibes at the rotters. What thoroughly persuades Theo to get back into the fray is Kee, a young woman so touchingly enacted by Clare-Hope Ashitey, a new talent, who is the world’s hope. She is pregnant. She could possibly restart the life cycle. However, conflicting sources intercede for special interests and they are serious, death-dealing opponents. Theo finally takes action. He awakens like an angry lion inspired by a tiny white kitten. Will he sail off on the good ship Tomorrow? Do you believe it?

Children of Men is an incredible movie in every way. Sit back and allow Sr. Cuaron to enthrall you and make you believe. He’s a magician, as are most excellent artists working with pen, brushes or film. There have been other good futuristic political thrillers but Cuaron’s uniqueness is his ability to combine action, speed and ferociousness with sensitive, deep political meaning and make them one. Too few filmmakers can do that. In the past, I’ve ridiculed the many reviewers who choose a movie as the Best of the Year every other week. My choice of Children of Men is a rare declaration. It’s not a film that was made to win awards. It is not an up movie, nor full of sex and the stuff that screams “ Oscar.” It relies on adult intelligence and doesn’t lay on its message with a trowel. There are no ultra-imaginative computer-generated effects. It does it all with basic, heavenly art.

Probably because of the power of movies, when Mexican Art is mentioned, most think of Frida Kahlo and for good reason. But are you aware that today, three leading creative filmmakers are Mexican? Alfonso Cuaron, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (Babel) and Guillermo de Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth). Interesting, no? Let’s keep ‘em coming across the border.

Guy-Jean de Fraumeni is the producer/writer/director of award-winning European and American feature films. He has been a judge at Major Film and TV award competitions, including the Oscars, the Emmy’s and various film festivals. Sarah Halsey assists him.