Children of Men
Children of Men, starring Clive Owens, Julianne Moore and Michael Caine is a frightening futuristic romp in which England remains the only country without war thanks to its Big Brother militant socialism, or something of the sort. Humanity is dying off as infertility is the lay of the land. Mr. Owens, whose venerable screen presence enhances celluloid, plays a once father who drones on in an occupation that provides him less relief than the booze he swigs to forget his sad past at the end of the day. When not drunk or working Mr. Owens trains it out of military lockdown London to visit his mentor in the hidden countryside to taste the beauty of life and art in the character of Mr. Caine, who I will watch forever.
The government is busy exporting illegal aliens and killing activists in a contemporary way. Mr. Owens is guilted into escorting an illegal alien to the coast for big cash money, at which point all hell breaks loose.
The story line is smart and stylish, very English and therefore easy to slip into, a sort of picture that reminds of me of Mr. Boyle’s frightening 28 Days (writer and director of Trainspotting). Mr. Owens pilots the action in his trademark cynical way, grudgingly doing the right thing at all times, the unlikely hero he is born to play and why directors tap for this sort of role. He is the smart, prescient undercard, pulling off Croupier and Inside Man characters with ease, a sort of Steve McQueen, the loner with a conscience, the man with the plan. Once he sees what’s at historical stake he takes the lead and protects his people at all cost. Julianne Moore, who I adore in the cinema, is unfortunately not present enough in the film for its strong writing, so I can’t complain that much. She is jarring and effective as always, my favorite of hers Far From Heaven, one of the best films of the decade.
There is a remarkable cinematic moment in this film that is worth the ticket. Perhaps there is fertility on earth, and when this suspicion arises warring factions over silly things stop dead in their tracks to observe the magic of humanity. This alone makes the movie a strong recommendation, this two minute passage, the special moments film buffs watch a hundred hours of film to see. This mirrors those moments of epiphany in art making that I spend my life going after, and when they occur the world stands still and the soul is charged and regains its purpose to live this life with all we have to bring to the table every day. As my beloved father often reminds me, there are no dress rehearsals. God bless him for that pearl of wisdom because it’s so true.