| Matt Lambert |
Children of Men returns to the Trylon in glorious 35mm and plays from Sunday, August 4th, through Tuesday, August 6th. Visit trylon.org for tickets and more information.
By the time Children of Men plays at the Trylon, my son might be born. It will be my wife and I’s first child. It’s something we’ve waffled on in our marriage for many years. The decision to bring life into the world has changed drastically as I’ve grown older. When I was younger, I thought the idea of having three children would be amazing. Now, I’m not sure I can see past one.
It’s an odd way to start a movie review of one of this century’s best science fiction films by talking about the birth of my son, I know. Every time I watch Children of Men though, I’m reminded how frighteningly possible the events depicted in the film are to our real life.
The events of Children of Men take place in 2027. Only one child has been born in 20 years. Infertility caused by ecocide has placed human beings in line for extinction. Theo (Clive Owen) is a civil servant who is still mourning the death of his son years prior to a global pandemic. Theo is forcibly recruited to help Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey), a young refugee woman, to safety, when it’s revealed she is pregnant and humanity’s last hope for survival.
Children of Men is a technically brilliant masterpiece helmed by its director, Alfonso Cuarón. The single-take shots are astounding. Attempts have been made to recreate those shots in movies every year since Children of Men’s release. I’ve always been an admirer of Cuarón, viewing him as closer to Stanley Kubrick than most other contemporary directors. I still think justice needs to be served on his career-crowning achievement Roma losing Best Picture at the Oscars a few years ago.
Children of Men is not merely awe-inspiring single-take action sequences though. At the center of Children of Men lies a powerful allegory about humanity. More specifically, the film asks: if the possibility of a future was taken away, how would humans react?
We live in a fractured country with an ideology of freedom that is simultaneously liberating and full of prejudice. Having lived most of my adult life during the Trump Administration, MAGA, and far-right extremists, it doesn’t feel like the events depicted in Children of Men are that far off. Each day I receive a news story notification on my phone, I shutter in wonder of what kind of rights could be taken away for the most uneducated and misguided reasons.
Optimism seems like a luxury now. I often think of the world my son will inherit. Will he have a chance to live the life he wants to live, or will he not even be given the chance because of other forces around him?
Maybe it’s not my place as a cis white male to write about body autonomy. Before submitting my pitch to Perisphere, I thought about this absolute right for each person a lot. Bringing life into the world is a responsibility that I couldn’t have been ready for three or four years ago. I was immature, depressed, and struggling to figure out my identity. We made the choice to not have children together. We live in a state that believes the birth of a child is a choice. Not everyone has that.
Children of Men is a cynical depiction of what happens when the future is taken away. It also shows the horrors of what people will do to claim that future for their own. But in the end, Children of Men believes in humanity. There will always be selfless people who dedicate their lives to saving us all. What the next year, four years, and decades to come will be for my son are beyond me.
I’ll do everything I can to teach him empathy, patience, and kindness. And I hope he’ll do the same for me.
Edited by Olga Tchepikova-Treon